Liam gave Lumos one last head scratch, then stood up and started walking laps around the clearing.
His aura reserves were depleted and the only way to recover was time, rest, and light movement. Just sitting still wouldn't cut it. The body needed circulation, blood flow, oxygen to the muscles.
Like recharging a battery by shaking it, Liam thought. Except the battery is me and the shaking is walking in circles like an anxious dad waiting for his kid to be born.
He kept his breathing steady, pulling aura back into his body through Ten. Slowly. Carefully. Letting it accumulate.
After about twenty minutes, he felt stable enough to resume training.
Back to basics, he reminded himself. No shortcuts. No fancy tricks. Just the fundamentals.
Ten. Wrap aura around the body. Maintain it. One aura per second, steady drain, constant output.
Zetsu. Close all aura nodes. Become invisible to Nen users. Zero defense, complete stealth.
Ren. Release maximum aura. Let it pour out, uncontrolled, overwhelming.
Hatsu. His personal ability—Shepherd's Song. The Star Marks. Control.
Those were the Four Major Principles. The foundation every Nen user had to master.
But there were advanced techniques too:
Gyo. Concentrate aura into a specific body part—usually the eyes, to see hidden Nen.
Shu. Extend aura into objects and weapons, reinforcing them.
Ryu. Redistribute aura dynamically between body parts mid-combat.
Ken. Maintain maximum Ren output continuously—the ultimate endurance test.
And then there was one Liam had been avoiding: Ko.
Ko is insane, he thought. Concentrate ALL your aura into a single point—maximum offense, maximum power, but zero defense everywhere else. One perfect strike. If you miss, you're dead. If you get hit while setting it up, you're dead. It's the glass cannon technique.
I'll save that one for when I'm not surrounded by international assassins and government agents.
Instead, he focused on something more practical: Emission training.
He'd remembered a training method from the manga—one of Bisky's exercises when she was coaching Gon. It was a level 5 difficulty drill, which meant it was absurdly hard and probably required thousands of hours to master.
Perfect, Liam thought. I love suffering.
The exercise: Stand on one hand. Use Emission to release aura from your palm. Push yourself off the ground. Hover.
Simple concept. Brutal execution.
Liam positioned himself, planting his right hand flat on the dirt. He kicked his legs up, balancing his entire body weight on one arm. Blood rushed to his head. His shoulder immediately started burning.
Okay. Step one: don't fall on your face.
He activated Ren, releasing aura from his palm. It pooled beneath his hand—invisible to normal people, but to him it looked like liquid light pressing against the ground.
He pushed.
His hand lifted off the ground. Five centimeters. Five whole centimeters.
"Holy shit!" Liam shouted. "I can fly!"
The excitement broke his concentration. His aura output spiked unevenly. His hand wobbled.
He dropped.
At the last second—half a centimeter from face-planting—he caught himself, releasing another burst of aura to cushion the impact. His palm hovered, trembling, sustained by a continuous jet of compressed aura pushing against the dirt.
This is so much harder than Ken, he realized, gritting his teeth.
Ken was about maintaining a steady output. Consistent drain, consistent defense. You could settle into a rhythm.
This? This was constant adjustment. Constant recalibration. The angle of his hand, the density of the aura, the force of the output—everything had to be perfect or he'd either fall or launch himself into a tree.
He held it for forty-three seconds.
Then he collapsed in a heap, panting.
"Okay," he gasped. "That... was a start."
Lumos wandered over and sniffed him, looking concerned.
"I'm fine," Liam said. "Just... questioning my life choices."
He lay there for a minute, catching his breath, then pushed himself upright.
Again.
Liam cycled through techniques for hours.
When his arms were too tired for handstands, he practiced Ko preparation—concentrating aura without fully committing, getting a feel for how it wanted to move. When his legs were shaky, he worked on Gyo, channeling aura into his eyes until he could see the faint shimmer of Ten on Lumos's fur.
The sun climbed higher. Morning shifted into late morning, then noon. The forest grew warmer. In the distance, Liam could hear the faint sounds of East Town—voices, music, the hum of civilization.
People living normal lives, he thought. While I'm out here doing one-armed handstands and spying on government agents.
Around midday, Liam decided to explore.
He'd been training at the same spot for hours, and his legs needed a break. Plus, he was curious. The stream Lumos had found—the one with the undrinkable sulfur water—flowed south. Liam wanted to see where it went.
Maybe it leads to better water, he hoped. Or at least water that doesn't taste like Satan's bathwater.
He followed the stream south, Lumos padding alongside him. The trees thinned out. The ground became rockier. And eventually, the stream just... stopped.
Not dried up. Not absorbed into the ground.
It stopped at a boundary.
Liam stood there, staring at the geological discontinuity in front of him.
Behind him: normal forest floor. Dirt, roots, decomposing leaves. Standard island ecosystem.
In front of him: rugged, rocky terrain. The kind of stone you'd find on a coastline—weathered by salt water, covered in barnacles and dried seaweed.
And the transition between them was sharp. Not gradual. Just a clean line where one type of terrain ended and another began.
"What the hell?" Liam muttered.
He knelt down, running his hand over the boundary. The rock on the "coastal" side was definitely ocean stone. He could see where waves had smoothed it. Could smell the faint brine.
But this is inland, he thought. We're not near the ocean. We're at the southern tip of the peninsula, yeah, but this isn't a beach. This is just... rock. Transplanted rock.
"It's like someone glued two different islands together," he said aloud.
"You're right," a voice said behind him. "But also not quite."
Liam spun around.
Two people stood at the edge of the tree line.
The first was a man built like a brick wall. Tall—easily six-foot-five. Broad-shouldered, with a barrel chest and arms that looked like they could bench-press a car. He had an afro, a thick ring of stubble around his mouth, and the kind of face that suggested he'd been in exactly zero fights because no one was dumb enough to start one with him.
The second person was Menchi, grinning like she'd just won a bet. She waved at Liam, making a peace sign.
"Yo!" she said.
Liam ignored her and focused on the man. "What's right and what's not quite right?"
The man looked down at the boundary line, expression unreadable. "Ghost Island wasn't always in this location. Why it's here now—that's still a mystery."
Menchi crossed her arms, nodding sagely. "Yeah! I was reading about it online yesterday. Thirty years ago, this island just appeared here. Like, out of nowhere. Poof. Instant island."
Liam's brain stuttered.
"Wait. This island appeared thirty years ago?"
That explained so much.
The territorial dispute between Kakin and Ochima. Babimyna's presence. Slohe's investigation. The Blanchett Company's suspicious involvement.
This isn't just a border dispute, Liam realized. This is a "what the actual fuck is this island and where did it come from" dispute.
He frowned. "Hold on. So the name 'Ghost Island' doesn't mean there are actual ghosts here. It means the island appeared like a ghost. Out of nowhere."
Menchi paused mid-nod. "Oh. Huh. I... didn't think of it that way."
"That's because you don't think," Liam said.
"Hey!"
The large man remained silent, standing like a particularly judgemental statue.
Liam recognized him, of course. Hard not to, given the distinctive appearance and the context.
Ginta, he thought. One of the Twelve Zodiacs. Specifically, the Sheep. Poacher Hunter—meaning he hunts people who hunt endangered animals.
Which explains why he's here, on an island with an endangered tiger reserve.
Also explains why he's staring at Lumos like he's trying to decide whether to arrest me.
Ginta spoke suddenly. "You recognized me."
"I checked the Hunter Association website," Liam said. "They have bios."
Ginta looked him up and down. "You don't look old enough to be a Hunter."
"If age was a requirement for a license, the exam would be a lot easier," Liam shot back smoothly. "I passed. That's all that matters. I'm just here to do a job, same as you."
Ginta considered this, the tension in his shoulders dropping an inch. "Fair."
Liam gestured at them. "So what's this about? Why do you keep showing up everywhere I go? First Menchi, now you. Am I being investigated?"
Ginta didn't answer. Instead, he pointed at Lumos.
Menchi helpfully clarified: "He's my teacher! He's teaching me Nen! Also, he's a Poacher Hunter, which means—"
"He hunts poachers, yeah, I got it." Liam looked at Ginta. "And you're staring at me because...?"
"You're traveling with an endangered Misery Moon Tiger," Ginta said simply.
"So?"
"So I'm confirming you're not a poacher."
"Am I?"
Ginta studied him for a long moment. "Personality-wise? No. Legally?" He glanced at Lumos, who was sitting peacefully, tail swishing. "I'll need to verify proper permits."
I don't have permits, Liam thought. I have a stolen Hunter License and a tiger I control via magical tattoos. This is going great.
"Also," Ginta continued, "I'm here to give you information. The leader of those poachers you defeated—Garo—was a former Floor Master at Heavens Arena."
Liam blinked. "Seriously? And he lost to me? That guy must've sucked."
"He only held the position once. Briefly."
"That tracks."
"I tested him after he regained consciousness," Ginta said. "His Nen type is Enhancement. But he developed a Conjuration ability, supplemented with Emission and Manipulation techniques."
Liam stared.
"Wait. He's an Enhancer trying to use Conjuration?"
"Yes."
"That's..." Liam struggled for words. "That's the worst possible combination. Enhancers have 60% efficiency with Conjuration. Why would anyone—"
"I don't know," Ginta said. "Perhaps he wanted versatility. Perhaps he misunderstood his own type. Perhaps he made poor decisions."
Perhaps he's a fucking idiot, Liam thought.
Ginta's expression grew serious. "You won partially through luck. Garo's abilities were poorly optimized. If you'd faced a competent Nen user of his level, you might not have survived."
The words hit harder than Liam expected.
Because Ginta was right.
Liam had won that fight through tactics, surprise, and the fact that Garo was trying to use abilities that were fundamentally mismatched to his Nen type. Against a smart opponent—someone with proper training, optimized abilities, real combat experience—
I would've died, Liam admitted to himself. Quickly.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For the warning."
Ginta nodded, apparently satisfied.
Then Menchi stepped forward, eyes locked on Lumos.
The tiger, who had been calm and relaxed, suddenly took two nervous steps backward.
"What's wrong with you?" Liam asked. "Why are you staring at him like he's a meal?"
"What's wrong with me?!" Menchi exploded. "I'm a Gourmet Hunter! Do you know how rare Misery Moon Tigers are? Do you know how many cooking methods I can think of just looking at him? At least three hundred! This is perfectly normal behavior for a food-focused professional!"
Liam stared at her. "You're so nervous. What are you, a Conjurer?"
Menchi's eyes went wide. "How did you know?!"
"Because you keep trying acting like an Enhancer."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Conjurers are nervous, detail-oriented, high-strung. Enhancers are straightforward, confident, and—" He gestured at her aggressive stance. "—kinda intense."
Menchi looked genuinely distressed. "I can't be both?!"
"You can," Liam admitted. "But you're mostly Conjuration. I can tell."
Ginta, standing off to the side, watched this exchange with an expression that might have been amusement.
He's analyzing me, Liam realized. Testing whether I can read Nen types from personality. Which is a Master-level skill.
Great. Now he thinks I'm either a prodigy or a threat.
Why is my life like this?
Menchi was still sputtering. "I'm not nervous! I'm passionate!"
"About eating endangered animals."
"About cooking!"
"Sure," Liam said. "Keep telling yourself that."