Chapter 42: Technique vs. Foundation
"He left on his own, then," Menchi mused, watching Babimaina's Kakin entourage disappear down a separate street. "He was never really with the Ochima group, was he?"
"Looks like it," Kai replied, not breaking his stride. He gave Dako and his freelance team, who were still lingering awkwardly in the hotel lobby, a final, dismissive wave. "See ya."
Dako just stood there, watching the trio—the tiny, self-assured boy and his two new female companions—walk out the door. He remained frozen for a long time, his expression unreadable, before finally turning to head back toward his own room in West Town.
"Hey, Shizuku," Kai asked as they walked the forested path that skirted the edge of East Town. "Your hotel is back in West Town. You're not going back?"
Shizuku, who was just walking alongside them, looked at him with her usual, placid expression. "The mission is over. Are there new arrangements, Boss?"
A "pfft" of suppressed laughter came from Kai's other side. "That's right, Boss," Menchi chirped, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. "You've officially got a subordinate now! That means you're responsible for her room and board, you know!"
"Oh, really?" Kai shot back, not missing a beat. "You jealous? I can 'arrange' you, too. I'm sure I can find a spot for you on the team."
Menchi just stuck her tongue out at him.
Shizuku, meanwhile, pointed toward the main, bustling street of East Town. "Why are we walking out here? Isn't the town faster?"
"Ugh, don't remind me," Menchi said, theatrically plugging her nose. "The slaughterhouse wharf is that way. Kai says he can't stand the smell of blood." She leaned in conspiratorially toward Shizuku. "He's got the nose of a bloodhound. It's way more sensitive than mine, and I'm a chef!"
Kai stopped and gave Menchi a look so cold and flat that her words instantly died in her throat.
"A-anyway!" she yelped, suddenly remembering a pressing engagement elsewhere. "I've gotta go! I'll see you at the training spot this afternoon! Shizuku, you're coming too, right? I'll make extra food for you!"
She turned and bolted down the path before Kai could formulate a proper verbal execution.
Shizuku watched her run off, then turned her calm, violet-eyed gaze to Kai.
"Menchi's a Gourmet Hunter," Kai explained, answering the unasked question. "Her cooking is... exceptionally good. It's worth the trouble."
"Oh." Shizuku nodded.
They walked for a few more minutes in comfortable silence, until a flash of white fur and glowing, jade-like patterns bounded from the trees. It was Butch, looking overjoyed to see his small companion.
"Hey, boy! How's it going?" Kai laughed, dropping his 'boss' persona as he scratched the massive tiger behind the ears.
As if on cue, the canopy above them rustled. A flock of birds—Rock Sparrow, the two white scouts, and the two black "Kai-Crows"—swooped down, landing on the branches around them like a silent, feathered honor guard.
"Chirp!" Rock Sparrow immediately zipped down to land on Kai's shoulder, demanding to be the center of attention.
Shizuku just watched the bizarre, almost magical scene, her expression as placid as ever.
Kai, a wide grin on his face, pointed at the two crows, who were watching Shizuku with an unsettling intelligence. "You remember these guys, don't you, Shizuku?" He then gestured to Butch. "What about him? He's the one you completely manhandled in the forest."
Shizuku just stared at him, her head tilting with genuine confusion. "Why would I remember them?" she asked, her voice a flat monotone. "I've never seen any of them before in my life."
Kai's grin froze, then slowly transformed into a look of profound, almost reverent awe. She wasn't lying. She wasn't being difficult. Her mind was a total, absolute, perfect blank slate on the subject. That's not just 'forgetful'… he thought, that's practically a Hatsu in itself. Wow.
He just shook his head, a newfound respect for her dawning. "Right. Sure. Well... anyway. Let's go get something to eat."
"Okay," Shizuku agreed, falling into step beside him. She then paused, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "But... if Menchi's cooking is so good, why did you let her leave?"
Menchi's cooking was, in fact, incredibly good.
That afternoon, in their now-familiar forest clearing, Shizuku confirmed this as she happily ate the generous portion Menchi had prepared for her.
Menchi, on the other hand, was in a bit of a melancholy funk. She sat cross-legged, listlessly poking at her own food. It was bad enough that Kai, a literal child, was a one-in-a-million prodigy. But she'd spent the morning training with Shizuku, and had been forced to accept a new, crushing reality: this quiet, air-headed girl was also monstrously strong. Far, far stronger than her.
She glanced over at Kai, who was already back to his insane, inhuman routine. He was standing perfectly still, his small body enveloped in a silent, unwavering, and incredibly dense shroud of Ken, his eyes closed as he focused on the monotonous, grueling task of grinding his total Aura pool. His discipline was terrifying.
"The... energy... it's already back," Shizuku said, her voice laced with the barest hint of surprise. She looked at her hands. It had only been ten minutes since she'd finished eating, but she could feel her Aura reserves, depleted from her own morning workout, already refilling. "This Hatsu of yours is amazing. I understand why Kai wanted you in his organization."
Menchi's gloomy aura evaporated instantly, replaced by a preening, smug pride. "And it's not just for hot food, either!" she announced, puffing her chest out. "The Restriction is that I have to be satisfied with the dish. As long as I am, my Rainbow Seasoning will work! I bet I could even apply it to cold dishes, bentos, or even pre-made stuff like crackers and cakes! Food that's easy to store and carry for missions!"
"You 'bet'?" Shizuku asked, tilting her head.
"Well... I haven't actually tried that part yet," Menchi admitted, her confidence deflating slightly. She fidgeted, the curiosity finally becoming too much to bear. "So, Shizuku... what's your Hatsu?"
Shizuku just looked at her. Her expression didn't change. She didn't speak. She just... stared.
"Hoooooooo...."
Across the clearing, Kai's Ken finally wavered and dissipated like steam. He collapsed to the ground, panting. "Ugh... only extended my time by another minute... That's less than 100 P.O.P... These last few days, with the investigation, my total Aura is just under 6100. If I'd spent that time grinding instead, I'd probably be at 6500, maybe 6600 by now. Balancing real-world action and training... it's a whole science."
He lay on his back, staring at the canopy, his mind churning. He knew that as his total Aura pool (P.O.P.) grew, this method of training would become exponentially less efficient. Soon, it would take hours just to drain his tank once with Ken. It was a massive, mind-numbing time-sink.
He remembered hearing that Morel, a veteran Pro Hunter, was considered a top-tier master with a P.O.P. of 70,000. There was a reason for that.
Kai suddenly understood the great, fundamental divide in Nen philosophy.
He thought of it in terms of the wuxia stories from his past life: the "Sword Sect" versus the "Qi Sect."
The "Sword Sect" (or Hatsu-focused) believed that a single, powerful, "hax" ability was all that mattered. They would spend all their time refining their Hatsu—making it more complex, more precise, adding more Restrictions, making it unbeatable. Their P.O.P. just needed to be "good enough" to power their trump card.
The "Qi Sect" (or Aura-focused), on the other hand, believed that raw power was the only truth. They were the grinders. They would drill their fundamentals day in and day out, pushing their P.O.P. into the tens, even hundreds of thousands.
Kai thought of the Chimera Ants. Meruem. Youpi. Their P.O.P. wasn't in the thousands, it was in the millions.
What good was a clever, "unbeatable" Hatsu against a monster like that? A creature whose passive, leaking Ten could shatter your bones? A creature that could just look at you and make your brain shut down from the sheer, terrifying, crushing pressure of their malice?
Your "unbeatable" Hatsu is useless, Kai thought, if you're vaporized by a simple, casual Aura blast before you can even activate it.
"The Way of the Technique... or the Way of the Foundation?" Kai murmured to himself. He let out a small chuckle, his gaze drifting over to where Menchi was still trapped in an incredibly awkward one-sided staring contest with Shizuku. He decided to have some fun.
"Hey, Shizuku," Kai called out, his voice casual. "What's your Hatsu?"
Shizuku, who had completely ignored Menchi's identical question, turned and answered her Boss instantly. "It's called Blinky."
She held up her hand, and with a soft pop, the cartoonish, big-mouthed vacuum cleaner materialized from thin air.
"Whoa, you're a Conjurer, too!" Menchi gasped, her awkwardness forgotten.
"Blinky's ability is to inhale any non-living thing that I—" Shizuku started to explain, but Menchi frantically waved her hands, cutting her off.
"Stop! Stop! Don't tell me! I just... I just wanted to know your type! You can't just go around giving away all the secrets of your Hatsu like that! That's rule number one!"
Shizuku just looked at Kai, who simply shrugged, as if to say, 'She's not wrong.'
"Well, what about you, Kai?" Menchi snapped, rounding on him, her frustration now at its peak. "I've been hanging out with you for days, and I still don't know what your Nen type is!"
Kai just rolled his eyes, a look of profound boredom on his face. "I'm a History type. Now, it's your turn to practice Ken."
Menchi, fuming so hard she looked like she was about to pop, stood up, took a deep breath, and exploded her Ren, locking it into a shaky Ken. Shizuku, ever diligent, immediately copied her.
Kai, satisfied, went back to the leftover food, only realizing halfway through his first bite that he'd accidentally grabbed Menchi's chopsticks. Oh well.
As the food—and its hidden Green Seasoning—hit his system, his nearly-empty Aura tank began to refill, a process that was amplified and accelerated by his own passive Star Marker's healing. He watched the two girls, and the difference was... brutal.
Shizuku's Ken was massive. The sheer volume of Aura she was maintaining was visibly larger and more intimidating than Menchi's. But Menchi's Ken was tighter, more stable, more practiced. Shizuku's, while huge, was still a bit... uneven and raw.
Kai did the math. Shizuku... she could probably hold that for two hours. Her total P.O.P. was easily ~7,200.
Menchi... she collapsed after barely five minutes. Her total P.O.P. was, at best, less than 300.
Menchi lay flat on the ground, a dead-fish expression on her face, panting as she stared at Shizuku, who was still holding her Ken, not even breathing hard. The look of utter, soul-crushing defeat in Menchi's eyes was almost comical.
Meanwhile, far away on a ship already crossing the open sea, Babimaina hung up his satellite phone, ending his brief verbal report to the First Prince.
His mission on Ghost Soul Island was over. Now, he had to return to Kakin and begin the arduous task of writing a full, comprehensive, and excruciatingly detailed written report on every single thing that had happened.
(End of Chapter)