The morning light slipped through the cracks in the wall, brushing against the small table in the corner of the room.
On it sat a glass of water, still and clear, with a small green leaf floating on the surface.
Yuzuki sat cross-legged in front of it, blindfold off.
His six eyes glowed faintly in the light — calm, crystalline, focused.
He exhaled slowly, extending his hand toward the glass.
His aura stirred.
The faintest vibration rippled through the air. The water trembled, responding to the shift in his aura as he focused on the glass, pouring Nen into it with deliberate precision.
A few seconds passed before the reaction came.
The water began to spin, swirling gently at first, then faster — not spilling, but rotating perfectly within the glass as if caught in a controlled orbit. Then, tiny ripples of blue light shimmered within it — not from reflection, but emanating from the water itself.
Yuzuki blinked, staring into the glow.
There was movement — energy that didn't fit any of the usual six categories.
It was both everywhere and nowhere, expanding yet contained, like a paradox held together by will alone.
He could feel it in his chest — calm, infinite, unbound.
"Specialist…" he whispered to himself.
He sat there in silence for a moment, processing it.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
So that was it.
A Specialist — someone who broke the rules of Nen entirely.
That meant it was possible.
He could recreate Gojo's Limitless and even the Infinity technique.
He could manipulate aura and space to their theoretical extremes — something no other category could have managed.
He wasn't just reborn into this world.
He was truly Gojo Satoru, reborn as a Specialist in Hunter × Hunter.
Yuzuki chuckled softly under his breath. "Guess that confirms it…"
But he didn't rush into planning his Hatsu.
Not yet.
Power like that couldn't be created carelessly. He'd think about it more tonight — and start development tomorrow.
For now, his body needed rest.
And besides… there was someone else he wanted to see.
---
Later that afternoon, Yuzuki made his way to the small building at the end of the block. The familiar smell of alcohol greeted him even before he knocked.
"Come in!" a voice called out.
Yuzuki pushed the door open to find Old Fin sitting at the table, pouring himself a drink. The man's grey hair was messy as ever, but his sharp eyes lit up when he saw Yuzuki.
"Well, if it isn't my little gambler," Fin said with a grin. "Come to lose again?"
"Not this time," Yuzuki said, smirking. "I actually came to win today."
"Big words for a kid who can barely reach the table."
Yuzuki rolled his eyes, sitting down as Fin poured him a glass of juice.
They set up their usual game — a simple dice bet. Two dice in a wooden cup, both take turns rolling, each calling odds or evens, highest total wins the round. But, of course, neither of them ever played fair.
Fin went first. He rolled the cup smoothly, his wrist turning slightly just before he slammed it down — a trick Yuzuki had seen before.
When the cup lifted, the dice showed five and six. Eleven.
"Ha!" Fin barked. "Good luck beating that!"
Yuzuki only smirked.
He picked up the cup, rolling it between his hands. As he did, a faint shimmer passed over it — his aura wrapping around the dice, adjusting their rotation ever so slightly.
He rolled. The dice bounced, spun… and landed on six and five.
"Tch." Fin leaned back, crossing his arms. "Copycat."
Yuzuki grinned. "Guess I learned from the best."
Round after round, the two went back and forth, both using tricks they weren't supposed to. Fin palmed dice between rolls, Yuzuki subtly manipulated the outcomes with microscopic bursts of aura.
It became a quiet, friendly war of wits and technique — two generations meeting in the middle, laughing and accusing each other of cheating the entire way through.
By the final round, Yuzuki was sure he had him beat. His dice rolled perfectly — or so he thought.
Fin lifted his cup slowly, revealing two sixes.
"Twelve," he said smugly.
Yuzuki groaned, dropping his head on the table. "How did you—"
"Trade secret."
They both laughed.
When Yuzuki reached into his pocket for the small stack of coins he'd brought, Fin waved a hand. "Keep it. You're still a kid. I'd feel bad taking your money."
Yuzuki looked up, surprised. "You sure?"
Fin nodded, sipping from his drink. "Yes I'm sure, keep it."
The old man's eyes softened as he watched Yuzuki pack up the dice. He never said it aloud, but in his heart, he thought of the boy as his own son.
He was the one who'd gotten Yuzuki those clothes. He'd bought meals for him and Shizuku when they ran short, as well, so to him he had been acting like a father either way.
There was something about the kid — that warmth, that honesty — that made Fin feel protective.
When Yuzuki stood and stretched, Fin spoke again. "Heading out already?"
"Yeah. Got something to do. I'll see you tomorrow, old man."
Fin chuckled. "Don't be late. I plan on taking your money next time."
Yuzuki grinned. "We'll see about that."
He waved goodbye and stepped out into the cool evening air.
Fin watched him go, the faintest smile touching his lips.
He took another slow sip of his drink, gaze lingering on the empty doorway.
Tomorrow, he thought to himself, I'll ask the kid to move in with me.
Shizuku had already left anyway, so there was no need for Yuzuki to continue living in that house. Plus his house was nicer.
He leaned back in his chair, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his chest.
The old gambler smiled again.
"Good kid…" he murmured.
Night had settled quietly over the small village. The sound of wind rustling through leaves filled the silence as Yuzuki sat cross-legged in his room, blindfold resting beside him.
The candlelight flickered softly, and his six eyes gleamed faintly in the dark — reflecting the shifting aura around him.
He exhaled slowly, focusing.
"Limitless…" he whispered.
He'd confirmed earlier that he was a Specialist, but understanding that and harnessing it were two completely different things.
Now, he needed to build a technique that could embody that specialization — one that could twist aura and space itself.
He placed his hand in front of him, watching the thin layer of aura swirl over his palm.
"The core idea of Limitless," he thought, "is the manipulation of distance — the concept of infinity itself existing between two points. In Gojo's world, it was math. In this one, it's aura."
He closed his eyes, deep in thought.
"If I imagine aura as a medium that can distort physical space, then all I need to do is define the layers between me and my opponent. Every attack, every projectile — all of it would have to pass through infinitely subdivided distances that never reach me."
The idea made sense — theoretically. But there was still the question of energy.
"Gojo's Six Eyes balanced out the energy cost," he muttered. "In my case, Nen is finite. Even with perfect aura control, Infinity would drain me dry in minutes if I didn't regulate it properly."
He drummed his fingers on the floor, then nodded to himself.
"Restrictions, then."
He picked up a small notebook, flipping to a clean page.
Oaths and Conditions:
1. Infinity can only protect me from lifeless matter absolutely.
2. When facing living beings with stronger aura than mine, Infinity weakens proportionally.
3. While Limitless is active, I will enter a state similar to Zetsu — leaving me defenseless internally.
4. In exchange, against weaker opponents, it becomes absolute.
He tapped the page with his finger.
"This should balance it. It'll cost power, but not beyond what the Six Eyes can handle."
A faint smile crossed his lips. He could see it clearly now — the framework for something greater than any ordinary ability.
Satisfied, he leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.
"Tomorrow," he said softly, closing his eyes, "I'll make it real."
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed into the room.
Yuzuki stood in the kitchen, quietly preparing breakfast — nothing special, just eggs, bread, and a small bowl of rice.
As he ate, his mind wandered to the weight of what he was about to do.
Hatsu.
Every Nen user's identity. A direct reflection of one's soul.
He knew how serious it was — how much a single mistake could cost him.
He took a sip of water and thought aloud, voice calm and steady.
"There are those who created abilities too weak to ever matter… like the guy who could only change the color of his eyes. And then there are those who shaped the world — like Kurapika, whose Nen chains perfectly embodied his vengeance, or Hisoka, whose Bungee Gum gave him near-unlimited creativity."
He smirked slightly. "Nen gives back what you put into it. Precision, logic, emotion — it all matters."
He set his cup down and exhaled.
"I'll create something that defines me completely."
---
A few hours later, Yuzuki stood in the middle of an open clearing deep within the woods.
He'd found this place by chance while running errands weeks ago — quiet, untouched, and perfect for training. The air was fresh, the ground soft, and there were no distractions.
He removed his blindfold.
"Alright," he said softly. "Let's begin."
He focused his aura, letting it gather around his body like mist.
"Limitless… the ability to manipulate space through aura precision."
He extended his hand forward, visualizing the concept he'd refined last night — infinite division.
"If I can separate space into infinitely smaller sections using Nen, then anything approaching me will slow infinitely — never reaching me."
The air around his hand shimmered faintly. Dust particles stopped midair, floating in place.
Then — silence.
He then moved towards a boulder, and as he approached it once he reached within a meter the boulder started pushing back. Mind you this wasn't a tiny boulder, it was fairly big.
He exhaled sharply.
"It worked."
He felt the strain immediately — not on his body, but on his aura flow. His Six Eyes kept it in perfect check, converting and regulating the energy output, but he could still sense the drain.
"This thing burns through aura like crazy," he muttered. "Without the Six Eyes, this would be suicide."
He tightened his fist.
Infinity hummed faintly, stabilizing.
"Still… it's beautiful."
He could feel every shift in energy, every distortion of space.
Then, as planned, he activated his oath — closing his Ten and letting his aura retract completely. Instantly, his defense fell, and the Infinity flickered, stabilizing only against inanimate objects.
He smirked. "Right… when Limitless is active, opponents who have more aura than me can bypass my Infinity. The trade-off is that it's absolute against those who have weaker aura than me"
But then he thought about how he'd be at extreme disadvantage when fighting opponents with stronger aura than him, so to compensate he made another oath.
"When using Infinity, I'm forced into a state of Zetsu. The trade-off is when I'm facing against opponents with better aura than me, even if they can bypass my Infinity, the more aura they use against me, the slow their attacks become"
Against lifeless objects, it was absolute. Against people… well, that would depend on aura strength..
That was enough.
"It might not be unstoppable, but it's unbreakable to anyone weaker."
He let the aura disperse, smiling faintly.
"Alright… that's Infinity done."
He took a deep breath. "Now for Blue."
He extended his palm again, visualizing the distortion in reverse.
"If Infinity divides space, then Blue must collapse it. A force that drags everything toward one point — an aura vacuum."
He concentrated, carefully compressing aura until the air itself bent inward.
The ground beneath him trembled. Small rocks, dust, and loose grass were pulled toward a faint glowing point at his fingertip.
It worked.
A surge of pressure built up, and for a few seconds, the gravitational pull held steady — until his focus wavered and the energy collapsed in on itself, leaving a faint crater.
He exhaled heavily.
"Blue… successful, even if it's unstable."
He looked at the small dent in the earth and nodded to himself. "It's a start."
Then he stood, stretching his fingers.
"Now, Red…"
He closed his eyes, channeling his aura once more.
"If Blue is attraction, Red must be repulsion — a complete reversal. Equal and opposite energy output."
He compressed aura into his finger, visualizing it as the expansion of space rather than the collapse. The air shimmered red briefly — a pulse forming — but then, without warning, it destabilized.
The energy collapsed with a sharp pop, scattering the aura harmlessly.
He let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head.
"Of course it failed… I still don't have full control over the positive output balance."
He looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers.
"My theory is right, though. Red needs an equivalent amount of reversed pressure to counter Blue's pull. I just don't have the output consistency yet."
He smiled faintly. "I'll get there."
His gaze drifted toward the setting sun.
"If I can't master Red, then Purple's out of the question for now."
He dropped onto his back, staring up at the clouds as the light dimmed around him.
Despite the exhaustion, he was smiling.
"Still…" he whispered, "I actually did it. Infinity and Blue."
He folded his arms behind his head, relaxing into the grass.
"I'll perfect the rest soon enough. Then…"
His eyes closed slowly, his breathing even.
"…I'll really be unstoppable."
The wind rustled gently through the trees, carrying away the last of his words as the world went quiet.