"You're old, Netero.
"The world ultimately belongs to the young.
"The Hunter Association needs fresh blood. The Dark Continent needs bold, relentless youth just as much.
"We old fossils can't clutch at life, hiding for fear of death or of bringing disaster upon mankind. Otherwise…"
"Wouldn't we become exactly what those self-styled 'Middle Kingdom' snobs sneered at us as being—frogs at the bottom of a well, shallow and laughable?"
"Creak…" The door, nudged by the wind, rasped softly.
Through the crack, the boy's rakish figure had already vanished.
Netero thought back to his visit with Linne nights ago, the long talk that followed. The heart he'd thought long dead began to stir…
At length, he sighed: "Zigg was right."
People thrive by moving; trees die when untransplanted. If you know the "upper realm" (the Dark Continent) is wondrous, you can't let fear keep your feet nailed in place.
"Beans… pack up. We're going."
"Yes."
Once Roy stepped out, the shack felt hollow.
He retraced his path out of Lost Melo Wetland, down the long service tunnel, and came out to Gotoh and Kuraging.
"Young master, where's Goldie-chan?" The girl's eyes darted first to the top of Roy's head.
Roy twitched a thought.
"Gawk!" The golden crow popped out through his crown, flapped its wings, nearly suffocating itself on exit.
Gotoh shot the girl a glare. She might claim to be a butler, but she sure wasn't acting like one. In Zoldyck service, the young master's safety comes first—always. Since when did a Nen beast outrank the master?
He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, looked Roy over. "Are you all right, sir?"
"I'm fine." Beyond the Residual Flame Blades hollowing his Nen a bit, anyway. The shockwaves from all those explosive spiders had long since been purged with Zetsu.
He waved a hand. "Let's go."
Back at the hotel, Roy logged into the Hunter website with his new license.
The Association's site—private, sprawling, and the center of its intel trade—sold information for a price. It wasn't omniscient; intel came from members; holes and blind spots were normal. Gon and Killua had used it to search for Ging once, after all.
"User XXXXXXXX… logged in…"
In the search bar Roy typed a single phrase:
"Reverse materialization."
He hadn't forgotten his promise to Tanjiro's father—heal him. He now had a medical plan for "consumption." What he lacked was a way to reverse-materialize medication into the cognitive world.
"Loading…"
Ten seconds later:
No results.
He exhaled, disappointed.
Most Conjurers "imagine" tools or constructs into being to fight or assist. No one seemed to have tried inverting the axis—turning matter back into Nen to replenish one's reserves, or even erasing the enemy's "matter" itself.
This wasn't his last life; no "mass conservation" strictly bound this world. Nen was "life energy," not mass. Had no one truly considered this?
He frowned—then didn't give up. He opened the site forum, posted a bounty, and set the reward to one billion jenny.
[Seeking an expert in "reverse materialization"
(Nen user or beast/rare beast/fantastical beast)
Verified leads receive 100 million jenny immediately. Time limit: 1 year.]
Two years—at most—for Tanjuro. And for Roy himself: one more lever for power was always good.
The post went live with a soft whoosh.
He sent Gotoh to book return tickets. Worried Kuraging wouldn't serve well alone, Gotoh dragged her along.
Left by himself with Goldie-chan, Roy began absorbing the "life energy" from the wetland fight.
[Body +31]
[Body: 172.8 → 203.8 (Note: avg. human = 1)]
The familiar agony surged; he shut himself in the bath, rode out the metamorphosis, and stood reborn a moment later. He checked the brand on his hand—
9y 9d 8h 19m 54s—then, for five seconds, it stalled before ticking again.
Those thirty-one points had bought him five seconds of life.
Roy chuckled, torn between joy and worry. He took a breath, turned on the shower, and rinsed away the dead skin.
…
Spring, AD 1987.
Gon and Killua were less than three months from birth.
On a nameless island southeast of the Yorbian continent, a ship dropped anchor a few months prior. A young man—helping a very pregnant woman—was the first ashore, with companions behind him.
He named the place Greed Island the moment his feet hit sand.
"I'll turn this whole island into a giant amusement park for our child," he said to his wife.
She nodded—expressionless, a puppet on strings. Since waking in this "secret realm," since learning this "island" lay inside the ring of Mobius Lake, the spark of wonder had drained from her.
"Eta, keep Vivian company."
"List, Elena, Dwun—come on."
He entrusted his wife to a female teammate and went to building—only to hit two realities:
1. How do you transmute cards into Nen effect? How do you store the Book of Spells itself?
2. Who guards the island once he's gone? That required a powerhouse—he already had a "criminal" in mind.
As for (1)… how to reverse conjure? No clear path yet.
That day, his teammate Elena found him on a rock, line in the surf.
"Ging, someone else is searching 'reverse materialization' on the Hunter site," she said.
"Who?" Ging's brow quirked.
"No name—only a billion-jenny bounty." Elena's Command Overview conjured a blue screen in the air. "I pulled the account number—this year's lone exam pass. He's called…"
"Roy Zoldyck."
That Zoldyck?
That Zoldyck.
Ging laughed and hauled a three-meter yellowfin from the sea—good food for Vivian. "Interesting. If you hear anything, pass it along to him."
He didn't care about the money; he was curious about the world's most notorious family. Elena nodded and left. Sunset stretched her shadow long across the sand.
Under that same sky, beneath the same gold, far from Greed Island on Dolle Harbor, Gotoh returned to the hotel with Kuraging. They knocked—and paused.
The boy stood bare-chested at the window, hands clasped behind his back, watching the neon wake in Zaban City.
"Young master—8 a.m. direct to Padokea. One day and a half to get home."
Home—not the girl's home. She swallowed. She called herself a Zoldyck butler—but would she pass the Zoldycks' "exam"? For the Kuruta clan, she had to try.
"Noted," Roy said. He sent them both to rest, clicked on the lamp, sat cross-legged on the bed, and opened Zigg's notebook to the page on En.
Of the high Nen arts—Gyo, In, En, Shu, Ken, Ryū—he now had Gyo, Shu, and Ken. In and Ken-combo (Hardening) were more complex; Ryū the acme—beyond today's reach. Start with En.
[En: Expand Nen in a sphere at least 2 m radius and sustain 1+ minutes.
Scope depends on skill. En does not equal overall power; implementation varies.
Nobunaga's En is 4 m; Zeno's covers 300 m. Nobunaga's gift is fighting while En is active; his 4 m radius matches his arm + blade. Within 4 m—nothing goes uncut.]
[Release Ren, layer Ten into the flow…
To expand "detection," pile on Nen.
To add properties, you must cede range. Using your visualization as the base, craft a personal trait…]
Range—or trait? He thought of Neferpitou's months-wide En puppeteering a corpse against Morel; Shaiapouf's En "scale powder" that hypnotized, that read emotions, deduced abilities. Range and trait—why not both?
Nen reserves set range; with daily "Sun Breathing" adding +1 body, and harvests of "life energy," his pool would keep growing. Range wouldn't be a problem.
The "trait" would be.
Zigg's notes offered no hand-holding—the trait depended on you. He shut the book and watched the night glow. Lamps bulbed like tiny suns, softly, quietly washing everything they touched…
"Softly…" He murmured it twice, thrice.
Flick— twin suns lit behind his eyes. Soft as spring rain, but the sun is finer still—should sink deeper, reach further.
How deep?
As deep as the heart.
Smiling, he opened his arms and let Nen bloom outward, soundless, into a sphere—
The hotel fell into it.
And there it was: the "other sounds."
At the front desk, the clerk pasted on a smile for a rude guest. Her mind cursed him six ways to Sunday.
A floor down, a couple groaned through their "battle"; he was failing, wondering whether to pop two little pills…
Next door, Gotoh packed and debated calling home.
Further on, the girl bent over a notebook, cramming Nen; her mind prowled home—Should I call my little brother Kurapika before we fly?
Thoughts trickled in like rain, into his ear.
Then Roy's eyes tightened.
In a certain empty-headed "peanut" mind, he saw… himself.
"Who?" Illumi stood before a mirror, combing the face he'd "worn"—Roy's face. He admired it, pleasantly blank—
Then froze, skin prickling. He shot up, fished out a Nen needle, scanned—
And that prying touch vanished—like spring rain absorbed into earth.
~~~
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