The first bite told Liam everything he needed to know.
The table in front of him was covered with dishes—a full spread of Hunter world delicacies he couldn't even name. Meat, vegetables, flowers, grains. Every color, every texture, every flavor profile represented. And all of it was incredible.
Menchi really was the culinary genius Ginta claimed she was. Even a simple cabbage dish melted in your mouth. Ordinary sea fish tasted so good Liam wanted to swallow his tongue.
But that wasn't what caught his attention.
After the first bite of fish, heat flooded through his body.
Not uncomfortable heat. Not painful. Just... energy. It spread through his limbs, opened every aura node, stretched every muscle. And most importantly—
His aura started recovering. Fast.
The slight depletion from his morning training vanished in seconds. Physical fatigue evaporated. One bite of fish and he felt like he'd taken a full rest break.
What the hell?
Liam didn't say anything. He just grabbed his chopsticks and started eating like a man possessed.
Menchi watched his reaction with barely contained glee. She puffed up her chest proudly, raised one hand, and let aura pool in her palm.
The aura crystallized into a physical object: a spice jar.
"Rainbow Seasoning," she announced, turning the jar to catch the light. "That's my Hatsu. The name's a bit on-the-nose, but I like it."
Liam kept eating, which—judging by Menchi's expression—was the highest compliment he could give.
"The aura I pour into this jar transforms into different seasonings," she continued, voice taking on a lecturing quality. "Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. Seven colors. Seven effects. The food you're eating right now—"
She shook the jar. Bits of green powder tumbled out, glowing faintly with vitality.
"—uses Green Recovery Seasoning."
Liam paused mid-bite.
She developed a healing ability because I kept showing off my Star Mark's regeneration, he realized. This is my fault.
He glanced at Ginta, who was eating calmly at the other end of the table. The green seasoning's recovery effect was stronger than the Star Mark's passive healing. Much stronger. Which meant there had to be restrictions.
Menchi didn't make him ask. She launched into the explanation on her own.
"I'm a chef," she said, gripping the spice jar tightly. "I can't lie to myself. If the food doesn't taste good—if I'm not satisfied with it—then it doesn't deserve this ability. The Rainbow Seasoning only activates on dishes I personally approve of."
Self-imposed restriction, Liam thought. Classic Conjuration approach. Make the condition harsh to boost the power.
But Menchi didn't seem to view it as a sacrifice. Her eyes shone with that particular intensity Hunters got when they talked about their abilities.
"Nen is so cool," she said, grinning. "I love it."
Liam swallowed a mouthful of vegetables. "So there are six other seasoning types? What do they do?"
"Red Seasoning is for combat," Menchi said smugly. "Makes you hit harder. Beyond that—" She dismissed the jar back into aura, smirking. "—I'm not telling you."
"If you told me everything, I'd feel obligated to explain my abilities," Liam said. "And then I'd feel bad."
"Why?"
"Because it'd feel like I was tricking a naive girl into revealing trade secrets. Why are you reaching for the knife?!"
"No reason!"
Ginta, ignoring their daily argument, calmly continued eating. These dishes are too good to waste on their drama.
The New Year Begins
Ten days passed in what felt like a blink.
January 10th, 1995.
Liam did mental math. It had been almost three weeks since he'd transmigrated. Two and a half weeks since he'd started serious Nen training.
And in that time, he'd done nothing but grind.
Every single day. Maximum effort.
Well, he amended, "maximum effort" when I'm not using auto-training via the Star Mark on my neck. That's more like "passive grinding."
But even with auto-training, his willpower had grown. He could push through entire days of exhausting practice without relying on the Mark's mental override. His determination had solidified into something almost physical.
And the results?
Gratifying didn't begin to cover it.
The Four Major Principles: Ten, Zetsu, Ren, Hatsu. Solid foundation. No gaps.
Advanced Applications: Gyo, Ken, Shu, Ko. Not mastered—not yet—but functional enough that Ginta had stopped correcting him.
Emission Training: Smooth progress. He could fire normal-strength aura bullets at will. His spirit-gun technique could output devastating power with minimal charge time.
Manipulation Development: New ability unlocked.
Liam sat in Ken—eyes closed, maintaining maximum Ren output wrapped in perfect Ten containment—for over an hour without strain. While holding Ken, he thought about his newest creation.
The Moon Mark.
He glanced at his palm, where a dark gray crescent arc shimmered faintly.
The Mark had evolved from his experiments with the Star Mark's spectator mode. When he'd figured out how to let controlled targets remain conscious—communicate with them inside their own heads—he'd realized something.
Communication is a separate function. I can extract it. Develop it independently.
So he had.
The Moon Mark was pure telepathy. No control. No manipulation. Just mental connection.
If Star Mark is control, he thought, then Moon Mark is communication. And if I ever develop a third mark—
Sun, Moon, and Star. The whole system.
He hadn't tested the Moon Mark's range yet. Or its limitations. But that was a problem for later.
Right now, he had bigger news.
My aura capacity.
He'd brought a timer to his last training session. Tested how long he could maintain Ken in one continuous push.
100 minutes.
Which meant his total aura capacity was now 6,000.
He'd started at 100. Less than three weeks ago, marking a single bird would drain him completely.
Now he could maintain Ken—the most energy-intensive defensive technique—for over an hour and a half. Could probably mark sixty birds before running low.
At the end of Greed Island, Liam recalled from his meta-knowledge, Gon and Killua each had about 3,000 aura. That was after a month of training with Bisky.
I have 6,000. In three weeks.
I'm either a freak of nature or the death energy is doing something weird to my development speed.
He released Ken, stood up, and wiped his face. Not even sweating. Barely winded.
I'm cracked, he thought. Absolutely cracked.
"You're still training?!"
Menchi appeared at the edge of the clearing, carrying a plate of stir-fried pork. "You're insane. You know that, right? Completely insane."
She summoned her Rainbow Seasoning jar mid-stride, shook green powder over the meat like edible glitter, and handed it to Liam.
"There's weird stuff happening in town," she said. "Strangers asking questions. Blanchett Company finally got permission from Kakin to let Ochima investigators into the reserve. They're recruiting locally—amateurs, professionals, anyone with skills."
She grinned. "I'm thinking about signing up. You interested? Or are you going back to your street performance scam?"
Liam took the plate, popped a piece of meat into his mouth, and felt his depleted aura surge back to full.
God, this ability is useful, he thought. I need to keep her around.
He smiled. "Actually, yeah. I'm interested."
Menchi blinked. "Really? You're done training?"
"Not done. Never done." Liam stood up, brushing grass off his shorts. "But I've made enough progress. Time to come out of seclusion."
"For what?"
"To recruit a teammate."
Menchi's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
Liam thought about the black-haired girl with glasses, wandering the reserve with terrible memory and a vacuum cleaner Nen beast. The girl who hadn't joined the Phantom Troupe yet. The girl whose ability was perfect for long-term logistics and survival.
"You'll see," he said.