Uvogin subconsciously squeezed his palms, but when he looked at the calm Moge in front of him, he ultimately pressed both hands firmly onto his thighs.
The fact that Moge had earlier covered his entire face with one hand and restrained him with aura-infused strength truly made Uvogin wary of acting rashly.
Besides, Moge had just treated them to a wonderful meal of mochi.
And now, simply because he coveted the unique power and methods Moge possessed, to suddenly turn hostile and attack him without hesitation… even in Meteor City, Uvogin felt that would be truly beastly.
Although in Meteor City concepts like morality and righteousness were practically nonexistent, the current Uvogin was not yet the hardened member he would later become after the Sarasa incident and the founding of the Genei Ryodan.
At present, he was only a thirteen-year-old boy.
He was impulsive, yes—but also straightforward and unexpectedly pure in his way of thinking.
"So, what do we have to do for you to tell us?"
As Uvogin gritted his teeth in frustration, Machi suddenly spoke.
"Since you've already taken the time to explain that much to us, strictly speaking, this shouldn't be something that absolutely cannot be talked about, right?"
Although Machi was even younger, only ten years old, when it came to perceiving the essence of a matter, she completely outclassed Uvogin.
"Excluding the possibility that 'those who don't know this power cannot be told,' the main reason you refuse to say more must be personal."
"If you had never intended to tell us, then when you were making the mochi, you would have avoided our sight, suppressed your aura, or used other methods to conceal it."
"But you didn't. Instead, you deliberately let us perceive that such a power exists."
"Yet when we asked further, you suddenly said you had nothing to say…"
Machi lifted her head and stared steadily at Moge. "So is it because we haven't paid enough in conditions and price?"
"Hmm…"
Moge pondered for two seconds, then glanced at Uvogin.
"I think I understand now why you've been able to survive in Meteor City for so long."
"It seems it's not just because of all that muscle."
His gaze returned to Machi, and he sighed meaningfully.
Uvogin: "??!"
What was that supposed to mean?
Was he implying that his survival depended entirely on Machi?
Just as black lines began to appear across Uvogin's face, Moge nodded slightly toward Machi.
"That's right. In this world, obtaining anything requires paying conditions and a price."
"This is especially true for power."
Nen itself operated on equivalent exchange. The greater the desire, the harsher the restriction; the heavier the condition, the stronger the effect.
Machi might not fully understand the complete system of Ten, Zetsu, Ren, and Hatsu, but she understood Meteor City.
To gain something meant to pay for it.
With effort, with blood, with risk.
Fighting, snatching, killing—they were already accustomed to such transactions. Therefore, Machi was not surprised by Moge's requirement.
This was simply daily life for them. In Meteor City, there was no such thing as a free lunch.
Thus, Machi realized it immediately.
As for Uvogin—
"Didn't you treat us to mochi earlier…"
Uvogin muttered, "In that case, just tell us directly, like you did with the mochi…"
"Didn't you work for me before you ate the mochi?"
Moge glanced sideways at the fellow whose thinking lagged slightly behind.
"I guess so… Alright then, tell us what you want us to do this time."
Uvogin thought briefly, then, unwilling to overthink it, spoke bluntly and directly.
"Actually, it's very simple…"
Moge observed their gazes fixed upon him, and the corner of his mouth slowly curled upward.
"All you have to do is beg me."
Uvogin tilted his head, visible confusion filling his eyes.
Machi, however, stared at Moge and quickly realized he was not joking. Her thoughts immediately began to analyze the situation.
Was this some peculiar personality quirk?
Or was he intentionally using psychological pressure as a form of restriction?
In Nen, the harsher the condition imposed upon oneself—or the more extreme the emotional state involved—the stronger the resulting power.
Making others beg, forcing them to lower themselves—could that be part of his ability's activation condition?
Meteor City was full of twisted personalities. Such a method would not be impossible.
While Machi was calmly analyzing, Uvogin stared at Moge for two full seconds before erupting.
"Are you kidding me?!"
Uvogin had always possessed strong pride.
Even as a teenager, that temperament had already been forged in Meteor City.
And at his current age, that pride burned even more intensely.
"If you told me to kill someone for you, or steal something, or fight for you—"
"For the sake of that delicious food, I'd agree!"
"But!"
Uvogin's expression turned fierce. "You want me to swallow my pride and beg you?!"
"Dream on!"
He clenched his fists, producing sharp cracking sounds.
"I'm telling you, even if I never get to eat mochi like that again, even if I starve to death outside, I will absolutely never come back and beg you!"
His voice carried firm and unwavering determination.
Yet when those words reached Moge's ears… they sounded strangely familiar.
And the one who had once said something similar…
"Let's go, Machi!"
Uvogin, still fuming, grabbed Machi and dragged her toward the door.
However, just as he was about to push it open, he paused.
"The mochi you gave us counts."
"In Meteor City, food like that is precious."
"No matter what your real purpose is, we genuinely ate it."
"In the future, if you run into trouble you can't handle, feel free to come and beg me!"
"I, Uvogin the Great, will absolutely not refuse!"
Bang!
After saying that, he pushed the door open and dragged the still-silent Machi away.
Moge had told Uvogin to beg him, and Uvogin immediately returned the words, telling Moge to beg him instead.
One could only say they were still young; that competitive stubbornness was indeed fitting for an Enhancer's personality—direct, prideful, and unwilling to bend.
Moge smiled faintly and shook his head.
There was no need to rush.
Living in Meteor City, he had opportunities, and more importantly… time.
After all, it was only 1983. The future members of the Genei Ryodan were still children. There was no need to hurry.
Haste makes waste.
Thinking of this, Moge suddenly found himself craving mapo tofu with a bowl of rice.
"Once my ability rises another level, I will have bread, and I will have mapo tofu…"
With that thought, Moge slowly closed his eyes.
Aura began to circulate around his body as he maintained Ren, refining and stabilizing his output.
He had already experienced the advantages of his Nen ability, Master Inventor.
But he had also clearly felt the cost.
The consumption of aura was frighteningly real.
This so-called Golden Finger was indeed powerful, but the extent of its drain on life energy was equally terrifying.
Now, Moge was contemplating how to reduce the aura expenditure required for his inventions.
And within the Nen system, the most effective method to amplify efficiency while lowering baseline waste was obvious: impose stricter Conditions and Limitations upon the foundation of the ability, thereby trading freedom for strength.