Chapter 7: Setting Sail × Whale Island × Competition
The early morning sun shimmered on the calm ocean. The sea was flat, the wind gentle.
A seagull had just landed on the prow to rest when suddenly a whip cracked through the air and struck the deck with a loud bang, sending the startled gull flapping away.
Alistair grinned mischievously from high atop a mast, his silhouette etched against the sky, blending with the sea and dawn.
"It's been nearly 20 days at sea. When are we finally going to reach Whale Island like Kite promised?"
Alistair stood and called up to the sailor at the lookout post.
"Hey, mister! Can you see Whale Island yet?"
The sailor lowered his spyglass and glanced down at Alistair, who was lounging on the mast with his hands behind his head.
"Not yet, but if my experience is right, we'll arrive by sunset."
He wasn't worried about the boy falling. Whenever Alistair was bored, he'd hop between the masts, ignoring the sailors' warnings.
"Tch, then I'll take a nap. Wake me when we're close." With that, Alistair flopped down and dozed off right on the mast.
Kite came out from below deck, spotted Alistair, and casually hurled a small plank at him.
Without opening his eyes, Alistair caught it neatly between two fingers, guided by the rush of air.
"You're too old for these childish games. Don't disturb my nap."
He tossed the plank right back to Kite.
"Cheeky brat. But you're improving," Kite said with a nod.
Time passed. Alistair was still half-asleep when he heard someone calling him.
"Kid, wake up! Look—Whale Island!"
Sleep vanished instantly.
Alistair leapt lightly from the mast up to the lookout.
"Where? Where?"
"There, see?" The sailor pointed ahead and to the left.
On the horizon, an enormous island rose from the sea. Its shape was unique: two long, rolling mountain ranges formed the island, covered in thick forest. From afar, it really did look like a giant green whale surfacing for air.
Massive and awe-inspiring.
Alistair gasped. "Whoa! It really does look like a whale! No wonder it's called Whale Island."
The sailor nodded. "Yep. Every time I pass by, I think the same thing."
"Hey, mister."
The sailor took a swig of his liquor and asked, "What's up, kid? The scenery got you speechless?"
"Can you get down? You're too fat, it's cramped up here."
"..."
This brat! The sailor clenched his fists, but in the end, just turned and climbed down.
"Hey, mister!" Alistair called.
???
He pointed at the spyglass around the sailor's neck, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Can I borrow it?"
...
At sunset, Whale Island's harbor was bathed in golden light. The scene looked like a warm painting.
The sails came down and the ship glided smoothly into dock.
Kite emerged, gave Alistair a look, and quickly disembarked.
The air smelled faintly of sea and sunset warmth. Alistair took a deep breath, then jumped down from the lookout, handing the spyglass back.
"Thanks, mister. I'm off. Safe travels."
He waved as he ran to catch up with Kite.
In a restaurant near the harbor, Alistair stuffed his cheeks full. His words came out muffled:
"Man...food at restaurants is the best. I was about to puke from that cook's slop on the boat."
Swallowing hard, he eagerly asked, "Master, why did we come to Whale Island?"
Kite's expression was complicated. After a long pause, he said, "You'll know tomorrow. Rest up tonight."
---
A dragonfly landed on Alistair's hand, cleaning its eyes with its spindly forelegs. Alistair blew softly, and it flitted away.
All around, the little wooden boat Kite had bought was drifting along the river into dense forest.
Alistair sat at the bow, observing every detail of the jungle.
He guessed Kite would do what he always did: once they reached a dangerous spot, he'd announce the training mission—and then disappear.
He glanced back, lips tight, watching Kite warily.
Kite was rowing, taking a swig from his bottle. "Quit staring. It's not a training mission this time."
Alistair didn't buy it. After so many fake-outs, he was used to being suspicious.
The boat left the wide river for a narrow creek—barely two meters across. Alistair could touch the bank if he stretched.
In the deep shade, the water was sluggish and barely glimmered.
At a small wooden bridge, Kite docked the boat. "I'm taking you to meet someone."
Alistair's curiosity was already boiling over. He nodded eagerly and followed.
They wove through the forest until they reached a misty, swampy lake.
Following Kite's gaze, Alistair looked across the water.
On a huge tree branch by the lake sat a boy in green. His spiky hair—black and green—rustled in the breeze, and his big brown eyes focused intently on a fishing rod.
Even though Alistair had never read the Hunter x Hunter manga, the image of this boy was iconic—he'd seen it on the covers of his brother's comic books.
Anyone on the cover had to be a main character.
But what surprised Alistair most was—why had Kite brought him to meet this kid? How did they know each other?
Is Master taking on a new apprentice? Am I supposed to test this kid's skills?
But Kite's been weirdly quiet ever since we landed on Whale Island. Why?
Wait, could this kid be Master's... secret son?!
That can't be. I mean, I call him 'old man' but he's only twenty-five, and that spiky-haired kid looks about my age. Maybe it's his brother?
Alistair's thoughts bounced all over the place, conjuring up all sorts of wild scenarios in seconds.
Just then, the green-clad boy's fishing rod dipped. The line jerked and the still lake exploded in a shower of spray.
That snapped Alistair out of his daydreams.
The boy's hands tightened on the rod, muscles straining as he grinned with delight. He jumped from the tree, landing by the shore, and with a powerful tug, launched a huge trout from the water.
Snap!
The rod, never built for such force, broke in two—but the momentum sent the trout flying even higher.
"Catch that fish," Kite ordered suddenly.
The second he heard his master's command, Alistair didn't hesitate. With a burst of speed, he leaped toward the trout soaring over the lake.
On the opposite bank, the boy—Gon—saw a figure launch into the air. It was a brown-haired kid with a determined look.
He was fast—almost as fast as Gon—and heading straight for the airborne fish.
That was his catch! Gon wasn't about to let it go. He sprang up, too.
The trout was closer to Gon, and he was sure he could reach it first.
But Alistair was just as fast, matching him move for move and showing no sign of slowing.
The two boys raced across the lake, leaving ripples and splashes in their wake.
Their movements, their focus, their intent—all perfectly in sync.
The distant mountains and sky served as the backdrop for this contest.
Kite, watching from afar, nodded in satisfaction.
The gap between them closed, and for an instant they locked eyes mid-air.
Alistair arched an eyebrow with a cocky grin, as if victory was already his.
Gon frowned and swallowed hard, knowing his rival was just a bit faster and had almost caught up.
The trout shimmered in the sunlight, its tail flapping as it soared.
Alistair's fingers were just about to touch its scales...
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