Dago stood at the edge of the forest, watching Liam, Shizuku, and Menchi disappear into the tree line with two Blanchett security guards in tow. His jaw worked silently, chewing on words he couldn't quite spit out.
The other four amateur Hunters clustered around him, equally silent. Equally annoyed.
"So," one of them finally said. "We were hired first. With Shizuku."
"Yeah."
"And those two just showed up this morning."
"Yeah."
"And now Shizuku's with them."
"...Yeah."
The first Hunter crossed his arms. "Should we, I don't know, join up? Safety in numbers?"
Dago snorted. "You want to ask permission from a kid?"
"That kid almost vaporized Kenji's face with his finger an hour ago."
"Kenji's an idiot."
"Kenji's standing right here."
"I know."
The Blanchett Company representative, a tired-looking man in a khaki vest with a clipboard, cleared his throat. "Are you forming one team, or splitting up?"
Now that Ochima had finally bullied its way past Kakin's political blockade, Blanchett had no choice but to provide guides. Glorified babysitters, really. The company's job was to make sure these amateur Hunters didn't burn down the reserve, poach a Misery Moon Tiger, or accidentally stumble into something that would require a coverup.
Dago glanced at his team. Then back toward the trees where Shizuku had vanished. "Does your company have any suggestions?"
The representative's smile was professionally bland. "Our suggestion is that there's nothing here worth checking. You should wrap this up and go home."
"Right." Dago turned to his crew. "We split up. Five directions. They can take their own path."
The others nodded. Two headed for the outer perimeter. Two more aimed for the buffer zone. Dago himself turned toward the core area, the section they'd barely touched in two weeks of fruitless searching.
As he stepped into the shadowed woods, he tried very hard not to think about the fact that Shizuku had walked away without a word. Or that a professional Gourmet Hunter and a trigger-happy child had somehow poached his strongest team member in under an hour.
He had four days left to find something worth the bonus pay. Four days before he went home with the base rate and a story about how he'd been outclassed by a kindergartener.
The trees swallowed him whole.
Deep in the core zone of the Misery Moon Tiger Reserve, where the forest grew thick and the sunlight turned green, Liam kept his hands in his pockets and his Nen spread thin across his skin.
Ten. Always Ten. The first rule of staying alive in a world where invisible monsters could rip your aura out through your eyeballs.
Menchi walked beside him, eyes glowing faintly with Gyo as she scanned the underbrush. Shizuku trailed a few steps behind, looking vaguely interested in a moss-covered log.
The two Blanchett security guards followed at a respectful distance, probably wondering why three Nen users needed babysitting in the first place.
Technically, none of them had what you'd call traditional Hunter skills. No wilderness survival courses. No advanced tracking techniques. No decades of experience wrestling bears or whatever the hell Hunters were supposed to do.
But they had Nen. And Nen was the great equalizer. Enhanced vision, enhanced hearing, enhanced strength, it turned amateurs into something that could at least pretend to be competent. Slap some Gyo on your eyes and suddenly you could spot a camouflaged snake from fifty meters. Ren made your muscles sing. Ten kept you from bleeding out when a stray branch decided to test your reflexes.
Liam had grown to appreciate the absurdity of it. A normal human would die in these woods within a week. A Nen user could treat it like a mildly annoying hiking trail.
Menchi kept glancing at Shizuku. Then at Liam. Then back at Shizuku. Her eyes still glowed with Gyo, twin embers in the forest gloom.
Shizuku, belatedly noticing, looked back. "Yes?"
Menchi pointed at her own eyes. Then at Liam's eyes. Then, meaningfully, at Shizuku's completely normal, non-glowing eyes. "You haven't been using Gyo this whole time?"
"Oh." Shizuku blinked. Aura gathered, her eyes lit up with the telltale shimmer of concentrated Nen. She looked around, scanning the trees, the undergrowth, the sky. Then her gaze settled on Liam's ears. "Is it useful to focus aura in your ears?"
Menchi's head swiveled toward Liam. Her expression screamed, I have never heard of this, and I'm mildly offended you didn't tell me.
Liam grinned. "Try it and find out."
Menchi frowned. Shizuku tilted her head, curious.
Both of them closed their eyes, focusing. Liam watched their aura shift, thinning around their eyes, thickening around their ears. Not perfect, they were still learning Ryu, but close enough. The forest sounds sharpened. The rustle of leaves became a symphony. The distant crack of a branch might as well have been a gunshot.
Menchi opened her eyes, unimpressed. "It's louder. But Gyo in the eyes lets you see Nen constructs. Way more useful."
Shizuku covered her ears with both hands, like she was testing the effect. "Then... can you hear aura if you use Gyo in your ears?"
Menchi's frown deepened. Her eyes widened. Then she scowled. "Wait. Can you?"
Liam laughed. "See? She's smarter than you."
"I'm going to murder you," Menchi said pleasantly.
"You have to consider all possibilities, little sister Menchi," Liam continued, ignoring the death threat. "What if some weirdo has a Nen ability that works through sound? Auditory Manipulation? Sonic attacks? You'd be deaf and defenseless."
"It's called a Hatsu, not ninjutsu," Menchi muttered.
Shizuku perked up, her curiosity shifting targets. "Why do you call her little sister?"
Menchi smirked.
Liam adopted his most magnanimous tone. "A master is a teacher. I'm being humble here. I'm practically half her teacher. Could've called her niece."
"You're asking to die," Menchi said, hands curling into claws. She lunged, fingers aiming for Liam's face like she was going to scratch his eyes out.
Liam ducked, laughing. Menchi missed, stumbled, then straightened and turned to Shizuku with a more serious expression. "Hey, Shizuku. You're a Amateur Hunter, right? Never took the official exam?"
"Yeah." Shizuku nodded. Her focus had already drifted. She was using Gyo again, staring intently at a tree trunk.
Menchi opened her mouth. Then paused. Her eyes flicked toward the two Blanchett guards trailing twenty meters behind.
Liam caught her hesitation and glanced back as well. The guards were out of earshot. Probably.
"She wants to know how you awakened your Nen," Liam said, filling the silence. "And why you know how to use Hatsu but not basic techniques like Gyo. Didn't you have a teacher?"
He was curious too. The Phantom Troupe wasn't exactly known for formal training programs. Most of them had learned Nen the hard way, probably through life-or-death scenarios or by sheer luck. Shizuku was from Meteor City, that wasn't in question, but how she'd gone from garbage-dump survivor to competent Nen user without learning the fundamentals was a mystery.
Then again, Meteor City itself was a mystery. Eight million people supposedly lived there. No government, no records, no infrastructure. Just endless trash heaps and the people who grew up in them.
Liam had always found the numbers suspect. If there were really eight million people, someone would've counted them. And if no one had counted them, where the hell did "eight million" come from?
Shizuku looked at them. Her lavender eyes blinked once, slow and thoughtful. Then she said nothing.
Liam turned to Menchi. "See? That's what happens when you ask invasive questions. You think everyone's as naive as you?"
Menchi's face flushed. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to pry."
Then she glared at Liam. "You didn't have to say it like that."
Shizuku, unbothered, asked, "If I take the Hunter Exam and pass, will someone teach me Nen techniques?"
Menchi brightened. "Yeah! There's a whole system. The Association assigns mentors to new Hunters. Well, usually. Sometimes. It depends on availability and whether anyone likes you."
"And luck," Liam added. "Mostly luck."
The three of them fell into an easy rhythm after that, wandering deeper into the forest. Conversation drifted between Nen theory, Hunter politics, and Menchi's increasingly creative threats against Liam's person.
They saw plenty of Misery Moon Tigers. Massive blue-furred beasts lounging in the shade, unbothered by human presence. During the day, they looked almost normal. No glowing markings, no hypnotic sapphire glow. Just big, lazy cats.
Shizuku stopped walking. "Oh. So those are Misery Moon Tigers."
Menchi groaned. "Your reaction is terrible."
By the time the sun started sinking toward the horizon, painting the forest canopy in gold and crimson, they'd found exactly nothing. No ancient tombs. No Nen anomalies. No mysterious glowing artifacts. Just trees, tigers, and the growing certainty that this was going to be a long four days.
Four days left on the contract. If they didn't find anything, they'd all walk away with the base rate. Two million Jenny split however Slohe decided to split it, probably weighted toward the professional Hunters. Maybe 400,000 Jenny each if Liam was lucky. Not bad for five days of wandering around a forest.
But if they found something? The bonus could quintuple that. Two million could become ten million. Enough to disappear for a year. Maybe two.
The thought itched.
They emerged from the core zone near dusk, where the forest thinned and the Blanchett security checkpoint marked the boundary. Dago was already there, streaked with dirt, looking like he'd wrestled a badger and lost.
"See you tomorrow, Shizuku," Menchi said, waving as she and Liam turned toward the exit.
Dago wiped his face and looked at Shizuku. "Let's keep investigating tonight. Taking just two million feels like a waste."
He turned to gesture at the forest.
Shizuku was already walking away. In the same direction as Menchi and Liam.
Two crows circled overhead, wings cutting through the dimming sky.
Dago stood frozen, staring after her. Then he wiped his face again, muttered something that might've been a curse, and plunged back into the woods.
The Blanchett guards exchanged a look. One sighed. "Does he know we're supposed to eat dinner?"
"Guess we're working overtime."
They followed Dago into the trees, grumbling.
By the time Shizuku emerged from the forest and onto the paved paths leading toward the Elf Playground, night had fully descended. The amusement park blazed with neon, rides spinning and glowing like something out of a fever dream. Music thumped from speakers. Children screamed with delight on roller coasters.
Shizuku looked up. Two crows flew past, wings flapping lazily. She frowned. "I feel like something's missing today."
Then she shrugged and kept walking.
The fountain square near the park's center was packed as always. Tourists clustered around food stalls, street performers, and a small crowd gathered in a loose circle around a familiar sight.
Liam sat at a rickety folding table, the Blue Moon Orb resting between him and whatever unfortunate soul had decided to challenge him tonight. The orb glowed softly in the darkness, a pale blue shimmer that looked almost magical.
The park security knew him by now. They'd stopped caring. He was just a kid, and his little gambling hustle brought foot traffic. As far as they were concerned, he was basically free entertainment.
A muscular man sat across from Liam, one massive arm locked against Liam's much smaller one. The man's bicep bulged. Veins stood out like cables. His face turned red with effort.
Liam, meanwhile, looked bored.
The crowd was having a great time.
"Three seconds!" someone shouted. "I bet three seconds!"
"Five," another countered. "At least five."
The profiteer who'd sold Liam the Blue Moon Orb at a steep discount called out, grinning, "One second. He's going down in one."
Liam's arm didn't move. The man's hand trembled, muscles screaming, tendons on the verge of snapping.
Then, almost lazily, Liam pressed down.
The man's hand slammed into the table. The crowd erupted in cheers and groans, money changing hands.
The muscular man stared at his own arm like it had betrayed him. Then he looked at Liam, this scrawny child who'd just crushed him without breaking a sweat, and his expression cycled through disbelief, horror, and finally resignation.
A voice cut through the noise. "Can I try?"
Liam looked up.
Shizuku stood at the edge of the crowd, wearing a black sweater, jeans, and her usual oversized glasses. Her black hair was slightly messy, like she'd been walking through wind. Her lavender eyes locked onto the Blue Moon Orb, unblinking.
Two crows overhead flapped away, their job done.
Shizuku didn't notice. Her gaze stayed fixed on the glowing sphere.
"Little sister, don't be impulsive," the muscular man said, standing and rubbing his wrist. "This kid's got some kind of trick. His wrist strength is insane."
"Uncle," Liam said, smiling politely, "if the lady wants to play, let her play. You're blocking the table."
The man glared. Then he left, muttering under his breath.
Shizuku sat down immediately, eyes still glued to the orb.
"Don't stare," Liam said, waving a hand in front of her face. Her gaze didn't move. She really wanted that thing. "Beat me in arm wrestling, it's yours."
He raised his arm, flexing his fingers. His aura pooled around his hand, invisible to the Muggles in the crowd but clear as day to anyone with Nen.
Shizuku finally looked up. Her lavender eyes met his. Then she raised her own hand, wrapping it in aura, and clasped his.
"Can you change the bet?" she asked.
"Change it to what?" Liam said, amused.
Shizuku's grip tightened slightly, her aura pressing against his. "Replace it with your Hunter License."
Liam's grin widened. "Sure. But a Hunter License isn't worth some 1,800 Jenny trinket. What happens if you lose?"