Gourmet Hunter (HxH Fanfic) Chapter 448 448 I’ll Hit You Along The Internet Cable

A headless knight stood atop a mountain of corpses and bones, clusters of flas blooming like lotuses on the ground around him, against the backdrop of a sunset as red as blood.

This was the oil painting that greeted visitors upon entering through the main door, evoking a heavy, oppressive feeling.

Salin paused to examine it for a mont, her eyes filled with contemplation.

'This painting… is Blood Sunset.'

Beside her, the butler softly urged her forward.

Salin snapped out of her thoughts, offering an apologetic smile before following the butler into the living room.

The mont she stepped inside, her gaze imdiately landed on Clover, who is seated on a wooden chair. He was a man in his fifties or sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a deep, striking face, his piercing eyes full of vigor.

Aside from Clover, the living room was guarded by about twenty black-suited bodyguards. On the expensive wooden chairs sat two other guests… a man and a woman, both around forty years old.

The man had his hair slicked back with wax, a clean-cut face adorned with gold-rimd glasses, and wore a well-tailored suit, exuding an air of refinent.

The woman had her hair elegantly pinned up, her face adorned with tasteful makeup, and was dressed in a long red gown, radiating grace and nobility.

As Salin observed the three people in the room, they were also sizing her up.

She wore a black won's casual suit, no makeup, not even foundation, and her hair was tied back in a practical style, giving off an energetic, no-nonsense vibe.

At first glance, she left a decent impression on the three. However, judging by her deanor and attire, she didn't seem like a collector or a person of wealth and influence.

Instead, she resembled a white-collar professional thriving in the concrete jungle.

Clover didn't rise to greet her, rely gesturing toward the wooden chair in front of him with a smile, "Please, have a seat."

He knew everyone who received an invitation, and he was aware that Salin was an employee of a recently erged antique-related website.

"Hello, Master Clover."

Salin sat down naturally, greeting Clover without using any etiquette.

Unbothered by this minor detail, Clover asked, "You're the chief appraiser at the Lawlin Museum?"

"Yes." Salin replied with a nod.

"Lawlin Museum? That website that put thousands of antiques up for sale online?" The bespectacled man asked curiously.

Perhaps due to recent promotions, the woman in the red dress was also familiar with the Lawlin Museum. Seizing the opportunity to join the conversation, she interjected, "They've been online for months and haven't sold a single antique. Lately, they've been throwing money into promotions, right?"

Her tone was haughty, laced with disdain when ntioning the Lawlin Museum.

Salin remained unfazed, ignoring the woman and smiling at the bespectacled man, "Yes, our company currently has 1,205 ancient artifacts, most of which are genuine relics from the Vela Era of the Kandhia Desert."

"The Vela Era… I recall that was the most powerful empire in the history of the Kandhia Desert, but it collapsed a thousand years ago for unknown reasons, vanishing from history at an alarming speed." The man mused with interest.

"It seems you're quite knowledgeable about this subject. If you're interested, you can visit our website to see if anything catches your eye." Salin maintained her smile.

The red-dressed woman, seeing that Salin had ignored her, shot her a glare filled with suppressed anger but refrained from making a scene.

A thousand genuine artifacts sounded like a joke, but the others tactfully avoided calling her out, maintaining proper decorum.

Clover observed quietly, stepping in to introduce the others as Salin finished speaking, "This gentleman is Miki, the owner of the Yorknew City's Bora Auction House. And this lady is Angie, the heiress of the Tiffany Jewelry Group. She has a particular fondness for collecting ti-honored jewelry."

He simply stated their nas and affiliations without embellishnt.

Yet, just the ntion of the Bora Auction House and the Tiffany Jewelry Group was enough to highlight Miki and Angie's extraordinary status.

The Bora Auction House was Yorknew City's third-largest auction house.

The Tiffany Jewelry Group was the world's largest jewelry conglorate, owned by Angie's father, who also happened to be the world's third-richest billionaire.

"Nice to et you. I'm Salin, the chief appraiser at the Lawlin Museum. I have so expertise in various categories of antiquities and the histories of different nations… though of course, I wouldn't dare show off in front of Master Clover."

Salin stood up, subtly flattering Clover.

To foster a cooperative relationship between the Lawlin Museum and Clover and leave a good impression, Salin had suppressed her usual temperant, adopting the role of a polished, professional employee. This change was entirely for the sake of the Lawlin Museum.

Before boarding the plane, Law's rhetorical question now had its clearest answer.

"Then, do you know the origin of that oil painting outside?" Angie asked abruptly, her gaze cool as she stared at Salin.

Clover and Miki exchanged glances but remained silent.

"I know a little."

Facing Angie's challenge, Salin slowly sat back down and replied calmly, "It's a fantasy piece from the late 12th century, titled Blood Sunset, painted by a deserter from the last battle of the Dunkirk Campaign at the end of that era."

When the three people present heard this, they looked at each other in surprise. This was different from what they knew.

"The Dunkirk Campaign was a brutal battle between two nations, involving 80,000 soldiers in the Dunkirk Gorge. It was the final battle of the late 12th century."

"The outco of that battle was that no one survived… all soldiers on both sides died heroically. How could there be a deserter? Moreover, the artist of that painting was Roderic, the most renowned painter of that era. How could he have been a deserter?"

"Miss Salin, ignorance is no excuse for baseless claims."

Angie let out a light laugh, her tone laced with a chilling edge.

Though Clover and Miki didn't speak, their expressions showed they agreed with Angie.

"In fact, the paintbrush made from Roderic's leg bone, along with his final letter, were acquired by one of our museum's senior Hunters and are currently stored in our collection."

Salin t their gazes steadily and continued, "Furthermore, Roderic's real na was Ciredor, one of the many unremarkable nas on the list of fallen soldiers."

At this point, Salin's tone grew slightly more serious, "Sotis, the truth is only known to a select few."

As she spoke, Salin recalled the mont Law had brought her a set of bone-made paintbrushes and a leather-bound final letter, excitedly recounting their history like a child who had stumbled upon an incredible treasure.

At that ti, she had adored that side of Law… it reminded her of her younger self, and she saw in him an infectious vitality.

Ciredor had been a painter forcibly conscripted into the army, the sole deserter of the Dunkirk Campaign. He later changed his na and rose to fa five years after the battle ended.

In Blood Sunset, the dominant hue was blood-red, with heaps of corpses forming a mountain in the background. But the most striking figure was a headless knight, drenched in blood, standing unyielding even in death, refusing to fall.

The so-called 'fantasy piece' referred to the fact that Ciredor had never witnessed the aftermath of the battle but had painted this scene… hence it was labeled as such.

However, what Salin ant by 'fantasy piece' was different.

Ciredor had seen this scene… except for the headless knight. That knight was his deepest, most sincere fantasy… the warrior he wished he could have been.

This was… the truest fantasy of a deserter after the war.

If it weren't for Law finding the bone-made paintbrush and the final letter, no one could have uncovered the truth hidden beneath the fog.

At least in this matter, Law was one of the few who held the truth.

After hearing Salin's words, Clover didn't imdiately refute her. Instead, he showed great interest and said, "Can I see the paintbrush and the final letter with my own eyes?"

The fact that he had hung Ciredor's famous oil painting at the entrance showed just how much Clover loved art.

When Salin saw the painting, she had already begun strategizing. Thanks to Angie steering the conversation toward the painting, she had successfully piqued Clover's interest.

There was a huge difference between bringing sothing up proactively and being prompted to discuss it in such a setting.

"I didn't bring those two items with , but I can have soone deliver them. They might arrive in ti for the day after tomorrow's appraisal conference." Salin said.

Before coming, she hadn't expected Ciredor's paintbrush and final letter to have such an effect. After all, she had only co up with the idea after seeing the painting upon entering. But that wasn't an issue… she could just have Law bring the items over.

"That would be perfect." Clover's face lit up with delight as he sighed, "The truth hidden beneath the truth is why I entered this profession in the first place."

He didn't fully believe Salin's words, nor did he outright dismiss them. He simply wanted to see the paintbrush and final letter for himself before drawing any conclusions.

Beside him, Angie frowned slightly but didn't say anything more.

Salin was so confident that Angie couldn't imdiately challenge her. In any case, the truth would reveal itself the day after tomorrow.

Afterward, the group chatted about topics related to antiques and history. Salin's eloquence and knowledge repeatedly drew the attention of Clover and Miki. Both n were professionals in the field and had already begun treating Salin as a peer worth conversing with.

Clover himself was the most renowned appraiser in the industry. Though he had been less active in recent years, the juniors he had ntored were now spread across the world, all of them highly respected appraisers.

Seeing younger generations excel was sothing he took great pleasure in. Now, he regarded Salin in a new light… though he had no idea that her appearance didn't match her actual age, nor did he know how old she really was.

Miki, the owner of a Yorknew's major auction house, understood the importance of skilled appraisers in this line of work. After witnessing Salin's expertise, he even began considering poaching her.

As the conversation reached its peak, Clover invited Salin to stay for dinner.

Salin happily accepted. After several interactions, she could tell that Clover was a big shot who didn't put on airs.

In truth, if not for their shared interests and profession, Clover likely wouldn't have been so courteous to Salin.

At five in the afternoon, Clover received a phone call and left the living room.

Seeing this, Salin seized the opportunity to call Law, but the call didn't go through. Left with no choice, she dialed Sabro's number instead.

Far away at the Hunter Association, Sabro picked up his ringing phone and answered.

"Where's Law?"

Salin's voice ca through the phone.

Sabro glanced at Law's closed door and replied casually, "Still sleeping."

"Wake him up and put him on the phone."

"Alright, hold on."

Sabro set aside what he was doing, stood up, and walked to Law's door. He knocked loudly while calling Law's na.

After pounding on the door for over ten seconds, there was no response.

Puzzled, Sabro tried turning the doorknob, then the door opened easily. Inside, there was no sign of Law. The bed was neatly made, the blankets folded properly.

Seeing this scene, Sabro froze. He had assud Law had stayed up all night and was still sleeping in his room. Turns out, that wasn't the case.

"Law's not in his room." Sabro said.

"Then where is he?"

"I don't know either."

Salin frowned slightly and said, "Then go to the warehouse and find Ciredor's paintbrush and final letter. After that, find Law and have him bring those two items to Bit City to et as soon as possible. If you can't find Law by midnight, you bring them yourself."

"What about the website?" Sabro asked, surprised.

"We'll deal with that later."

Without another word, Salin hung up.

Compared to the daily operation of the website, securing a partnership with Clover was the top priority.

Sabro stared blankly at his phone, finally grasping the importance of the matter.

"Where the hell did that guy run off to?"

Muttering to himself, Sabro couldn't be bothered to search for Law. If Law didn't show up by midnight, he'd just follow Salin's instructions.

With that thought, he went online and booked two plane tickets. Then, he headed to the warehouse to retrieve the paintbrush and final letter as Salin had requested, carefully packing them in a box.

After finishing, he returned to his computer and got back to work.

Ti passed slowly. By 9:30 p.m., Sabro still hadn't seen any sign of Law.

"Where the hell did he go? At least give a heads-up."

Sabro stretched and grumbled under his breath.

Suddenly, his expression changed. The computer screen in front of him began glowing with the unique white light of Nen. Then, a head erged from the screen.

Sabro was so startled that he fell backward, scrambling several ters away on his hands.

"Hey, have you had dinner yet?"

The head that popped out of the screen was none other than Law. He greeted Sabro, who was still sitting on the floor, before pulling himself out of the monitor like Sadako from The Ring and landing on the ground.

Seeing this, Sabro roared angrily: " Are you out of your damn mind?!"

"Uh…"

Law didn't know how to respond.

He had finally beaten Ickshonpe, only to be sent back via the 'I'll hit you along the internet cable' thod. Scaring Sabro was expected, though… his computer had been turned off, after all.

Still shaken, Sabro stood up and relayed Salin's instructions to Law.

At 11 p.m. that night, after briefing Sabro on the situation with Ickshonpe, Law took the paintbrush and final letter and boarded a flight to Bit City.

August 16th, 11:00 a.m.

Luxury cars lined up in the designated parking spaces in front of the Ohara Museum's main entrance.

Screech!

A black luxury car braked to a stop. The door opened, and a flashily dressed, bald man in a suit stepped out… the very picture of a nouveau riche. Following him were several others: four black-suited bodyguards and a golden-haired woman in an off-shoulder evening gown.

They were none other than Chrollo and the other mbers of the Phantom Troupe.