As Toji made his way toward the town, his focus wasn't on the road. He moved through the trees with a calm, steady rhythm, the cool forest air slipping between the branches and carrying the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Over his shoulder, the boar swayed slightly with every step, but its weight barely registered.
His balance was perfect, his steps measured as if the ground itself were guiding his feet. It wasn't for show; it was simply a habit. Or perhaps an instinct that had begun to settle into him more deeply than it should for a child his age.
But his mind was miles away, searching for anything of interest. Even in his previous life, curiosity had been his default state. Anything mysterious, any lingering detail, was enough to occupy his thoughts for hours. And when that kind of curiosity is dropped into a fictional world… well, you end up with someone rather troublesome.
Toji let out a faint sigh. "Well… what now?"
He had picked up the local language during his first few years. It was Japanese—mostly. The pronunciation was nearly identical, but the writing system was a completely different beast. He rolled the thought around in his mind as he stepped over the mossy trunk of a fallen tree.
"Is it because of multiple civilizations?"
The idea seemed plausible. In the original story, there were countless unexplored corners and cultures left unexplained. The world had always been far larger than what the narrative showed. It made sense. A world containing professional Hunters and the looming shadow of the Dark Continent would never be simple.
He glanced up at the sky peeking through the canopy. "Roughly speaking… it's 1984." He paused, checking an invisible calendar in his head. "That's three years before Gon is even born."
A brief silence followed. "And I'm seven years older than him."
He continued through the trees with an agility that would have made anyone watching feel a bit uneasy. The boar did nothing to disturb his balance, and his footsteps were so deliberate they made almost no sound. The habit had become a part of him—maybe too much.
"I have time." Not much, but enough. "When the story actually begins… I'll be nineteen."
Fifteen years. A long time, theoretically. Fifteen years to build a foundation. Thirteen if he counted the time it would take to fully open his Nen.
"Enough time… assuming I don't die first."
It wasn't a dramatic thought, just a realistic one. This was Hunter × Hunter. Death wasn't a rare event here; it was part of the landscape, especially if you chose to step into the world of Hunters.
As he neared the town, his thoughts drifted back to the same problem that had been gnawing at him. He thought slowly, trying not to lie to himself.
"When I really think about it…" He sighed. "I don't actually have that much time at all."
His Nen talent wasn't anything special. At least, not in the way he'd hoped. If he followed the traditional path, training step by step like everyone else, he'd likely end up as just another side character—someone who possessed Nen but remained weak, a background figure with no real influence.
His gaze lowered as he stepped over a small rock. "It almost feels like my mind rejects Nen."
The thought lingered. "Is it because I'm not originally from this world?" It was a strange idea, but not impossible. His mind, his soul, his very existence had come from somewhere else. Maybe he just didn't align perfectly with the energy system here.
Then he shook the thought away. "Or maybe…" He paused. "…I'm just not talented."
A simpler answer. A more irritating one. And, unfortunately, the more likely one.
But even so, if he was being honest, his body was something else entirely. He looked down at his hand as he walked. Only a few years had passed since he'd learned to walk, yet his body was already far stronger than it had any right to be. Not compared to adults, obviously, but for a four-year-old, it was unnatural.
His speed, his balance, his raw strength—all of it had developed at an almost uncomfortable pace.
"The real advantage," he thought, "is that I'm a child."
Time flows differently when you're young. Days feel like weeks. Years pile up before you even notice. Adults waste that time easily, never realizing what they're losing. But Toji had no intention of doing that. He'd already lived through childhood once; there was no need for a repeat performance.
"This time, I can use this stage instead of just enjoying it."
Right now, he could shape himself however he wanted. Train the body, adjust habits, build discipline early. Things that took adults years to learn, he could simply plant into himself now. And there was no need to rush—not yet.
In fact, he already had an idea. Several, actually. But the timing was still far too early.
"Not now."
For the moment, the basics were enough. Fundamentals of Nen, control over his body. A few years of quiet training would build a solid foundation. There was no point jumping into Hatsu without real control. Many users in this world had made that mistake—impressive power, terrible control, followed by a very quick death.
"Foundation first. Then I'll think about Hatsu."
His Nen type mattered, but not as much as people thought. As long as it was one of the six categories, he could work with it. He had plenty of ideas suited to his style—simple, efficient, deadly. Abilities that didn't rely on massive amounts of aura, but rather on training and experience.
The only problem was that most of those ideas required him to be a Specialist.
Toji sighed. "Great. Excellent plans… all dependent on the rarest category in the system."
Among all his ideas, only one could work with the other five categories. Just one. Which meant if he wasn't a Specialist, that was his only path forward.
"I really hope I'm a Specialist." Not because he wanted some broken ability, but because his ideas fit that type best. Clean, practical abilities that enhanced talent rather than relying on it entirely. No ridiculous conditions or excessive sacrifices.
But if that wasn't the case… things might get ironic.
"Because then… I might have to walk Toji Fushiguro's path completely."
One of his eyebrows lifted. The irony was hard to ignore. When he first realized his name was Toji Fushiguro—the same as the character from Jujutsu Kaisen—he'd assumed it was just a funny coincidence. A strange name, but coincidences happen.
But now? After learning the Nen system and starting to doubt his own talent within it, it didn't feel like a coincidence anymore.
"Almost like the universe is trying to give me a hint."
He began to laugh at the direction his thoughts were taking. It was naive, really. A weak Nen user who compensates with an abnormal body. Honestly? The idea wasn't comfortable. But it wasn't terrible, either. At least that path had worked for the original Toji.
He shook the thought away. "No need to decide now. I still have fifteen years."
Plenty of time. "Enough time to overthink this far more than necessary." And he knew himself well; if there was one thing he excelled at, it was overthinking.
As he drew closer to the town, his mind kept reviewing those ideas. The more he reconsidered them, the more he felt they could actually work. Not immediately, but eventually. He just needed to be certain about the details and adapt them precisely to the Nen system. That would take time.
Fortunately, time was the only thing he had in abundance.
Before he could continue the thought, the trees began to thin, and the outline of the dirt road leading to town appeared. A few steps later, the worn wooden sign at the entrance came into view.
Fox Town.
Toji paused briefly as he passed it. The island was named after an old reserve that once housed a rare species called the Corrosive Fox. It was a strange creature with mildly acidic saliva—an unusual trait that had attracted the interest of researchers. At first, it was just scientific study. Small samples, observations, papers.
Then the interest grew. Over time, "scientific interest" became something else. Hunting increased. Harvesting multiplied. And after only a few years, the species simply couldn't withstand it.
Extinct.
Toji looked at the sign and thought quietly, "Wonderful." He added inwardly with a dry tone, "You have a unique trait, so the world decides you're a natural resource. Not a living creature, just raw material on four legs."
That was usually how it went. In the end, nothing remained but the name. An entire island named after a creature that no longer existed.
Toji exhaled softly. "At least they got the honor of having the island named after them." A brief silence. "Truly a beautiful tribute. We kill you first, then turn your name into a label."
He continued walking toward the town. And in his mind, one simple truth settled firmly:
In this world, if you possess something rare, either you are strong enough to protect it, or it becomes the reason for your end.