Inside the Plane
I was sitting in the co-pilot's seat, sipping a can of soda.
"So, basically, it's a black-market auction, selling rare and most likely stolen items? With members consisting of businessmen, nobles, and all kinds of corrupt individuals?"
I asked while looking at my father, who was piloting the plane.
"Yes. They deal in all sorts of things—land, stolen artwork, jewels, rare metals, technological components, and mysterious artifacts. But our job is solely to recover Object 0-8-4, known as the Obelisk. Additionally, we need to investigate and gather any possible intel on this conspiracy."
I nodded in agreement and continued talking with my father. He started telling me about past missions and experiences from his time as an active demigod, including encounters with monsters and interdimensional beings. He also shared stories about his adventures, such as when he explored a hidden realm left behind by a different pantheon of deities.
There, he faced numerous challenges but also found a way to refine his control over divine energy, using unique materials and techniques from those gods.
We kept talking until we finally arrived in the country.
...
At the Auction
A massive mansion stood before us, designed in an elegant and refined Arabic style. The structure gleamed in white and gold, surrounded by a lush green landscape filled with exotic plants. The entire place looked like a paradise.
Inside, the attendees were dressed in all sorts of unique and luxurious outfits. One thing they all had in common was their wealth and high social standing. The place was also heavily guarded, with armed men patrolling the area—so much so that it seemed suspicious.
At that moment, I stepped in, wearing a sleek black suit paired with silver-rimmed glasses. The suit was tailored to perfection, hugging every inch of my body, giving me a sharp, charismatic, and elegant appearance.
Beside me, my father was equally striking. As a demigod and son of a goddess of life, his presence alone drew attention—both from women and men. Of course, a large ring adorned his finger.
It seemed that no matter what, my father would never part with his ring.
I smiled slightly as we were approached by an event hostess.
"Good afternoon. Your invitations, please," she requested with a polite and professional tone, though her gaze flickered between us with interest.
We paid her no mind. Not only was I already committed to someone, but I also wasn't interested in her gender.
My father handed over our digital invitations with a practiced, diplomatic smile. These contained unique identification markers.
Upon seeing the titles associated with our identities, the hostess's body trembled slightly, but she managed to maintain her composure and continued speaking.
"It is an honor to welcome the mercenaries of Blood Soul."
We smiled and entered.
Blood Soul was the identity of a notorious father-and-son duo, infamous for their brutal assassinations and high-risk missions. Of course, the real mercenaries had been captured and imprisoned by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents a few days ago—an operation carried out specifically to allow us to assume their roles for this mission.
After a brief security check to ensure we were unarmed, I grabbed a bottle of juice while my father took a glass of champagne.
We exchanged a brief glance before discreetly separating to gather information and build a network of contacts.
...
I moved through the crowd, striking up conversations with various guests. With my appearance and refined demeanor, I used carefully chosen words and subtle flattery, along with the alluring tone of my voice, to draw people in and keep them talking.
As I was walking, a young blond man suddenly stepped in my way.
"So, you're the young mercenary from Blood Soul?"
Observing him, I quickly recognized the telltale arrogance of a spoiled rich kid. Not wanting to be outdone—or to break my cover—I responded with a hint of bloodlust and a slight aura of dominance.
"Yes. And you are?" My voice was cold and indifferent.
He hesitated for a moment before recovering and replying,
"I am Werner von Strucker."
I gave a small nod and started talking to him.
As expected, he ran his mouth, and with the help of my Tuned Voice ability, I subtly guided the conversation toward topics of interest. The more I listened, the stranger it seemed—his family appeared to be connected to some kind of large, possibly global organization.
"And what's its name?" I asked.
"I… I can't say."
"Please," I said, pouring more mental and internal energy into my voice, channeling the seductive and persuasive aspects of my cultivation techniques. I had been practicing them for a long time, giving me excellent control over their effects.
His eyes became unfocused, as if slipping into another plane of existence. His voice came out in a dull, mechanical tone.
"The organization is called H—"
Before he could finish, another young man appeared and abruptly pulled him away.
"Hey, Werner! Come on, let's go!"
The interruption snapped Werner out of his trance.
"Nathaniel… Right, let's go. It was nice meeting you," he said.
"Likewise," I replied calmly, watching them leave. My eyes narrowed slightly.
I wasn't sure if that interruption had been coincidental or intentional, but something about it felt off.
Discreetly, I typed a message on a small hidden device.
I narrowed my eyes but continued mingling until it was time for the auction.
...
The auction hall was an exquisite space, adorned with beautiful statues and furnished with incredibly comfortable seating. High-end cuisine was being served to the attendees.
Using my Haki and trained eyes, I scanned the area carefully. I noticed the presence of a few mutants and other individuals who were clearly not ordinary humans. Most of them seemed to be serving as bodyguards for the wealthy and influential guests.
My father and I communicated telepathically, exchanging observations.
I mentioned the two young men I had encountered, as well as several businessmen and military officials who caught my attention. He, in turn, shared his own insights and notable contacts.
One person, in particular, intrigued him—a man wearing a mask who appeared unremarkable at first glance. However, my father's senses picked up a strange energy radiating from him, something similar to mutant power but… different.
'I see. How are we dividing tasks, Dad?'
'I'll infiltrate their system and gather information in person, with Anturian assisting me.'
'You have better stealth, unique abilities, and escape skills. Your mission is to retrieve the Obelisk.'
I agreed.
Raising my finger, a small bee landed gently on it. I had released my bees long ago, and they had already collected valuable intel for me—with Anturian's help—including the exact location where the Obelisk was being kept before its buyer retrieved it.
"The first item: a famous painting by Van Gogh. The bidding starts at two million dollars. Let's begin!"
As the auction progressed, several things caught my attention.
For instance, a small amount of Vibranium was sold for an exorbitant price. Another item was a strange doll that radiated witch-like energy. Additionally, unique plots of land were being auctioned off.
Thankfully, no human trafficking seemed to be taking place at this auction—though they did sell mutant body parts and DNA, supposedly for scientific research.
Then, the item we were after was finally revealed.
The moment the silver artifact was brought out, my Haki reacted sharply—for two reasons.
First, someone in the room briefly emitted a burst of spatial or quantum energy. It was faint, but it caught my attention.
Glancing over, I confirmed it was the same masked man my father had mentioned earlier.
Focusing back on the Obelisk, I scrutinized it carefully. It didn't feel like a weapon. It seemed more like a highly advanced piece of technology. There were inscriptions on it, but their meaning was unclear.
The object truly intrigued me.
"What do you think of it, son?"
My father's voice entered my mind.
"It doesn't seem magical or divine. It looks more like highly advanced technology. If I had to compare it to something, I'd say it resembles—but is also different from—the method used by the Guardian we encountered in Mexico last time, derived from Asgardian technology."
Upon hearing my thoughts, my father agreed. I then spoke with a hint of irony.
"But I won't be able to analyze or investigate it anyway, will I?"
Hearing this, my father seemed a little embarrassed but didn't deny it. As long as I remained outside the organization as an official member, limitations would still exist.
"However, as long as you maintain that identity, you'll be able to use it without any problems."
Hearing that, I nodded, satisfied.
In the end, the object was sold to an individual named Whitehall.
With the sale concluded, I rose elegantly and began to leave. I activated Zetsu and the stealth ability of my lineage before heading to the restroom.
Once inside, a watch materialized on my right wrist.
With a grin, I moved it and pressed it firmly.
My body began to transform—my DNA underwent drastic changes, my form became immaterial, and I was now completely different from my previous self.
"Phantom Form," I murmured softly.
And then i became invisible and intangible.
"Time to retrieve what I need."
…
After my departure, my father stood up and began making his own moves. Following Anturian's guidance, he searched for a network where he could extract data. And not only that—he also planned to rough up a few people and conduct some "light" interrogations, so to speak.