Bisky stood completely motionless, her eyes shut.
She had held this exact posture for twenty minutes. The stillness was profound enough that a pair of sparrows had fluttered down to settle in the branches above her head. From their position at the base of the opposite tree, Liam and Shizuku sat quietly in the shade, watching.
Her progression with the natural system had outpaced Liam's initial projections entirely. The introductory phase—entry via Sage Touching the Top—yielded the standard 0.1% baseline. But what followed defied the typical curve of a novice building a new framework. What followed was the result of a Transmutation master—someone who had dedicated decades to dissecting and dictating the exact properties of aura—suddenly encountering a seventh channel. Her entire life's work had unknowingly prepared her for this exact mechanism.
She had surged past 10%, 15%, and 20% in the first few days. The climb slowed near 36%, stabilized briefly, and then resumed its upward trajectory. She had walked into the woods this morning sitting at 39%.
A subtle shift in the ambient energy rippled through the clearing. The sparrows abruptly took flight. Bisky opened her eyes. A bright, sharp energy flared in her pupils before quickly receding into the dark iris.
"How much?" Shizuku asked.
Bisky tilted her head. "Around 41."
Liam gave a single, solid clap. "Outstanding. You're nearly where I'm stuck."
During his retreat at Misu Mountain, he had hit a hard wall at 49%. The resistance hadn't felt like a gradual slope; it felt like a massive, sealed door. He had ended the retreat, returned to the outside world, and that number hadn't budged a single fraction.
Shizuku stared at the dirt, rapidly calculating. "41% of 150,000. That gives you roughly 60,000 units of available natural energy."
Bisky had been entirely upfront about her total aura capacity during their first meeting. Her current physical form—that of a small, delicate child—severely restricted her immediate output. But the underlying reservoir belonged to someone who had spent a lifetime accumulating raw power. 150,000 units. The small frame was merely a partially opened valve. The pressure behind it remained immense.
"I didn't take the Dark Continent particularly seriously before this," Bisky said. She shifted her weight, leaning back against the rough bark of the tree. "Not as a personal destination. But now, I think you're correct." She looked at Liam. "If you want to push this natural system past the 50% threshold, the ambient energy in the human world just isn't dense enough. You're trying to take a deep breath at high altitude."
"Wu Da's island is an alternative," Liam offered, "but he doesn't love visitors."
Bisky gave a slow nod. They had exchanged enough information for her to understand exactly who Wu Da was, and exactly what his island did to the unprepared.
The air in the clearing shifted again. It wasn't a gust of wind. It felt closer to a sudden drop in barometric pressure—the environment actively reorganizing itself around a new variable.
Bisky reached her arm backward, extending her hand toward the dense brush behind Liam and Shizuku.
Her physical hand didn't move past her shoulder. Instead, an enormous, translucent construct of natural energy shot forward from her palm. The massive hand tore through the foliage at blinding speed. A second later, the construct snapped back, its heavy fingers curled tightly around two distinct targets.
Killua hit the ground, struggling against the invisible grip. His white hair crackled with raw voltage. He twisted violently, throwing every ounce of his training into breaking the hold. But the natural energy didn't interact with his electrical aura. He couldn't find a physical edge to pry against. He let out a sharp breath, his shoulders dropping as he abandoned the struggle.
Nanika simply stood beside him, completely unbothered by the invisible restraint.
"What exactly were you doing," Liam asked, "sneaking around in the woods?"
Killua's jaw tightened. He had maintained perfect Zetsu the entire time. He should have been entirely undetectable to standard aura tracking. He hadn't factored in the possibility that these people weren't relying on standard aura. He logged the failure.
"I was looking for Shark Island," he said. He kept his posture guarded, acutely aware of the two strangers. He wasn't about to volunteer any details regarding Nanika. "You mentioned something about it."
"It's Whale Island," Liam corrected. "Named because the landmass resembles a whale from the water. A quick phone search will pull it up."
Killua pulled his phone from his pocket, confirming a faint signal. He rapidly typed in the parameters. The map loaded, displaying the island's jagged coastline. He checked their current GPS coordinates, calculating the required travel time. It was a manageable distance.
Liam glanced at the bright screen. The silhouette was correct. Whale Island. The exact place where a legendary, absent Hunter had left his son to be raised by an aunt. Killua was on a direct intercept course to find exactly the kind of friend he needed.
Liam provided the introductions. Bisky offered a cheerful wave, introducing herself with the breezy confidence of someone who knew exactly how dangerous she was. Shizuku gave a brief, clipped nod. Killua stated his name quietly, his eyes darting between the three of them, continuously recalculating their threat levels.
Bisky watched the lingering sparks in Killua's hair.
"The electricity," she noted. "Transmutation. You're altering the properties of your aura to mimic electrical current."
"Yeah."
Bisky turned her right palm upward. Natural energy rushed into her hand. Utilizing the Minor Formless Art, she rapidly sculpted the ambient power, mapping it to the exact frequency she had just witnessed. A small, crackling arc of electricity materialized in the center of her palm. It wasn't a perfect replica of Killua's technique—the voltage was noticeably weaker, and the frequency hummed at a slightly different pitch. But it was real electricity, synthesized entirely from natural energy and a few seconds of observation.
She smiled at him.
Killua stared at the blue sparks dancing in her palm. The implications sent a cold spike of adrenaline through his system.
Bisky closed her fist, snuffing out the arc.
Liam, meanwhile, hadn't looked at the electricity. He was staring directly at Nanika.
Shizuku was looking too. Neither of them spoke. They simply watched, needing a long moment to verify the impossible data their senses were feeding them.
The ambient natural energy of the forest flowed around Nanika in a distinct, localized current. It wasn't a violent vortex. It wasn't a conscious, forceful absorption. It was a slow, rhythmic pull. The thick energy of the woods continuously drifted toward the small child, sinking into her form at a steady, uninterrupted pace.
She was breathing it.
Not as a deliberate technique. Not as a complex Nen application. It was a fundamental biological function.
Liam ran the logic. All living organisms generated life-energy. Over time, that energy naturally bled out, dissipating into the environment. That slow leak was the literal definition of aging—the gradual emptying of the vessel until the biological structure collapsed. But the energy didn't vanish. It simply merged with the ambient field. The natural energy that Liam, Bisky, Shizuku, and Kurapika were currently harnessing was, at its core, the accumulated remnants of countless lifespans.
Everything in the human world was drastically scaled down. The massive World Tree—the largest known biological structure—was effectively a sapling compared to the flora across Lake Mobius. Netero had explicitly stated that the fauna on the Dark Continent were so large they could be mistaken for mountain ranges. The ambient energy generated by the life cycles of creatures that massive would make the human world's atmosphere feel entirely barren.
If a gaseous entity evolved to survive in that hyper-dense environment, the thin atmosphere of the human world would feel suffocating. But it could still process the trace amounts available. Like a deep-sea creature drawing oxygen near the surface—slower, far less efficient, but still functioning.
Nanika was a Dark Continent entity existing in the human world. And she was quietly, steadily breathing.
Killua tracked the direction of Liam's gaze. He immediately stepped sideways, placing his body directly between Liam and Nanika.
"Is there a problem?" Killua asked.
"No," Liam answered honestly. "She's remarkable."
Killua held his stare for three seconds, searching Liam's face for any sign of hostility. Finding none, he subtly relaxed his stance, though he kept his body angled protectively.
Bisky's phone vibrated against the bark.
She picked it up, staring at the caller ID. Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
"It's Netero," she announced.
She accepted the call. Even from several feet away, Liam recognized the sharp, gravelly voice bleeding through the tiny speaker. It was the distinct cadence of a man who had just survived something catastrophic and was already organizing his next move.
Netero was asking for Liam's current location.
Killua's head snapped up.
The old man was actively placing a phone call. The battle was over, and the Hunter Association President was still breathing.
"Well," Killua muttered. "He lived."