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Two weeks had elapsed since Haruto's meeting with the Kurta Clan when a pigeon arrived, bearing a scroll of parchment. It was a letter from the Kurta Clan, stating one of their members had been delayed in the city and had only just managed to return. Haruto, unrolling the parchment, scanned the message quickly. He crumbled the parchment in his hand, throwing it into the fire pit at the center of their makeshift gathering spot.
"Uvogin. Nobunaga," Haruto said in a low, calm voice, his eyes burning with an intense ambition, "You two are to bring the late Kurta here."
Uvogin grinned, cracking his knuckles with anticipation, while Nobunaga simply nodded, his sharp gaze hidden beneath his straw hat. They left without a word, disappearing into the twilight of Meteor City, ready to retrieve the straggler from the city's outskirts.
In the meantime, Haruto turned his attention towards the council member Koshiro. The old man sat in a corner, his age-worn face a picture of wisdom and experience.
"Koshiro, I want you to train the Kurta Clan members in Nen," Haruto demanded, his voice slicing through the hushed murmur of their makeshift den. Koshiro, leaning heavily on his gnarled wooden staff, looked at Haruto with a start. His face wrinkled further as he pushed himself up, his old eyes boring into the young leader's.
"Is there a specific individual you have in mind?" Koshiro asked, a hint of curiosity glinting in his gaze. His voice was gravelly from age, yet carried an authority that commanded respect.
Haruto's lips curved into a slight, mysterious smile, "All of them."
"All of them?" Koshiro repeated, eyebrows raised, "You do understand the gravity of your request, don't you, boy?"
Haruto simply watched the flickering flame in the pit, his purple eyes reflecting its fiery dance. "I felt their life energy flare when their eyes turn scarlet. They have an untapped potential. I want you to unearth that. Teach them to control their life energy, their emotions… In return, we will have an army of Nen Masters."
The proclamation hung heavily in the air, silence enveloping the gathering. Haruto's voice had not risen, yet the intensity of his words sent a chill through the room. Around them, a few pairs of eyes widened. The task was monumental; daunting, even.
Feitan, who had been silently observing from a corner, leaned forward. "And what if they fail?" His words were sharp, a reflection of his character.
Haruto turned to him, his gaze unyielding. "They won't."
Feitan huffed, sinking back into his chair. No further words were needed. Despite his usual fiery temperament, Feitan recognized Haruto's confidence, his vision. He understood that arguing was futile.
Koshiro sighed, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders. "It will not be easy. Not everyone can learn Nen."
"They are different. You will notice," Haruto said, his voice resolute, his belief unwavering.
Phinx, who had been leaning against a pillar, crossed his arms and threw a skeptical glance at Haruto. He respected the young man but wasn't entirely sold on his plan.
"Since when did we start babysitting, Haruto?" Phinx grumbled, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "We're not babysitters. We're warriors. Let them fend for themselves."
Canary, who was tending to her blade nearby, shot Phinx a stern glance. "Haruto has a vision. And we follow," she said in a firm tone. She didn't need to raise her voice; her conviction was evident.
Haruto paid no heed to Phinx's comment, his attention remained focused on the old man. "Koshiro, it is time we unleash their true potential."
Koshiro heaved another sigh but nodded in agreement. "I understand the task at hand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was old, and the prospect of such a massive undertaking was daunting. Yet, he recognized the fire in Haruto's eyes, the same fire that had once burned in his own.
Haruto walked over to Koshiro, placing a hand on the old man's shoulder. "You have shaped warriors before. You can do it again."
Koshiro looked up at the young man towering over him. Despite their age difference, he couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for the teenager. He saw a future in Haruto's eyes, a future that was vast and filled with possibilities.
"Alright, boy," Koshiro said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'll do my best."
Uvogin and Nobunaga returned to the gathering spot, ushering the members of the Kurta Clan into the light of the fire pit. The Kurta looked around, visibly repulsed by their surroundings. Meteor City was a gigantic dump, an amalgamation of waste and discarded memories, a stark contrast to their humble yet cherished village. The patriarch of the Kurta Clan, Jahleel, stood at the forefront, a determined look in his eyes despite the evident regret on his face. He raised his hand, silently asking for an audience with Haruto.
Before Haruto could react, Phinx scoffed loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "Not comfortable, huh? Don't tell me you'd rather be in your pretty little village than here."
Jahleel's gaze hardened, his eyes locked onto Phinx. "Our village, however modest, was home. It was ours. And now we find ourselves in this…" he gestured around, letting the word hang in the air. Jahleel was a man of dignity and patience, but his anger was palpable, his words loaded.
Haruto stood, motioning for silence with a swift hand gesture. His eyes landed on Jahleel, "Speak, patriarch."
Jahleel looked at Haruto, the stark contrast between his age and the boy's evident in their stature and voice. But he could not ignore the radiating authority from the young man standing in front of him. "We were promised protection, shelter, a life beyond the confines of our village. But what we see is… "
"What you see is change," Haruto interrupted Jahleel, his voice calm yet firm, resonating across the makeshift gathering spot. "Time was a luxury we could ill afford. We live in a world where human lives are measured by their monetary worth, and unfortunately for your clan, that worth is substantial."
He let his words settle in the dense air before continuing. "Your presence here signifies your desire for survival over an attachment to a simpler, perhaps more comfortable life. A wise choice, patriarch Jahleel."
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