The Dark Continent—a top-secret realm known only to a fraction of the world's elite.
What is commonly called the "World Map" is, in reality, nothing more than a small lake within an incomprehensibly vast territory. It is a world of such extreme scale and danger that humanity's continued survival can only be described as a miracle. Even a young Isaac Netero once braved its shores only to return in crushing defeat, a testament to the sheer scale of the threats lurking there.
Among the various calamities of the Dark Continent, the Chimera Ants are classified as a sub-human species of relatively low risk. These insects possess a unique trait called Phagogenesis, allowing them to pass on the characteristics of consumed prey to their offspring. Having integrated human DNA in the past, they now possess high intelligence and human-scale size. While a Queen establishing a colony to birth a King represents a significant threat, in the grand, terrifying scope of the Dark Continent, they are considered one of the "easier" challenges to manage.
"Are you really okay with this? You went through so much trouble to get them, and now you're just throwing them away."
"Everything is going according to plan," Pariston Hill replied, speaking to an unseen guest in his office at the Hunter Association. "The 'Guide' said we could do as we pleased with something as minor as Chimera Ants. It's amazing what a little sincere pleading can accomplish."
The accomplice—whose name and face even Pariston did not know—was perhaps the world's greatest specialist in infiltration and stealth. Their partnership was forged through massive sums of money and shared interests.
"Well, I'm heading back to the boss. Call me if you need anything else. But man, I'm gonna get an earful for going to the Dark Continent without him again. He's either too loyal or just plain stubborn..."
The voice faded, and the presence—which had been nearly impossible to detect from the start—vanished completely. Pariston carefully disposed of the now-unnecessary contract.
(He really is exceptional,) Pariston thought. (To infiltrate the Dark Continent alone and retrieve exactly what's needed...)
Even with the world's superpowers strictly prohibiting travel and ordering the execution of anyone who tries, there are always ways around the rules. Success required a small, elite team operating in total secrecy; this latest expedition had consisted of only ten people. Though their target—the Chimera Ants—was relatively safe, the mission's success was largely due to exhaustive research into their habitats and the identification of suitable specimens for capture.
(The 'Observer'... despite having no combat ability, his skills are off the charts. Even for the world's best stealth specialist, the Dark Continent is a nightmare where even the 'Guides' notice you. It's no wonder eight out of my fifteen planned expeditions ended in total failure.)
(And from what I've gathered, Ging Freecss has made the trip alone five times. The man is utterly ridiculous.)
Pariston himself had never set foot on the Dark Continent; his position was far too public for such a risk. In the beginning, his chosen elites and his partner's specialists suffered constant casualties. Without understanding the nature of the "Guides" or borrowing the "Observer"—his partner's ultimate trump card—the success rate would have been halved. These expeditions, fueled by lost lives and vast fortunes, would continue as long as his partner's ambition and Pariston's own sense of playfulness remained.
(I wonder how these Chimera Ants will fare? I hope everyone enjoys the show. Though, it might be even more entertaining if it's already too late by the time they notice.)
Whether the problem was solved instantly, served as a catalyst for someone to grow stronger, or ended in a tragic death, Pariston didn't care. He had already achieved his goal. Everything was a move to provoke his favorite person: Isaac Netero.
"Please enjoy yourself, Chairman Netero. I love your smile and your fury alike... and I'm sure I'll grow to love your death mask just as much."
Like a cornered rat that does more than just bite, Pariston's blade was poised to reach even the Guanyin Bodhisattva. The twisted "Rat" of the Zodiacs smiled, continuing his schemes for the sake of the only things he held dear.
***
In the Mitene Union, a cluster of sovereign nations located at the southwestern tip of the world map, Kite was beginning to make a name for himself among the top Hunters—though he was unaware of his growing reputation.
Having just completed a biological survey in the Kakin Empire, Kite had traveled to the Union with his team and disciples at the request of a research group he frequently collaborated with.
"So, this was found on the coast? It's far too large for a typical aquatic insect," Kite observed.
"We don't have the full data yet, but it shares many traits with the Chimera Ant," a researcher explained, gesturing to a container. "At this size, a colony could threaten more than just a town—it could endanger the entire nation."
Before Kite lay a single, severed insectoid limb. It had been several days since its discovery, yet it showed no signs of decay. Even a layman could sense the predatory power it possessed. Kite agreed with the researcher's assessment, but the location was the real problem.
"Based on the currents where this was found, where is the most likely landing point for the body?"
"The NGL Autonomous State. That's why we called you, Kite. You're the strongest Hunter we have a direct line to."
"NGL..." Kite grimaced. "That's bad news."
Kite considered the very real possibility of a nation being wiped off the map. "Understood. I'm heading to NGL immediately. I'll have my team stand by near the border. We need to maintain constant contact."
"We're counting on you. Please, be careful."
Kite nodded and headed to the room where his companions and disciples were waiting.
"Alright, listen up. Pokkle and Ponzu, you're coming with me into NGL. Lin and Podongo, stay here and assist the research team. The rest of you, provide support from the border. This is a high-risk assignment—do not hesitate to retreat if things get ugly."
As most of the group nodded, a young girl with a large, distinctive hat raised her hand. It was Ponzu.
"Um... I understand why Pokkle is going, but am I really needed? I'll probably just be a burden."
"This is a scouting mission," Kite replied calmly. "I intend to keep combat to a minimum. Your tracking skills and communication bees will be invaluable."
"Don't worry, Ponzu! The Master and I will protect you if anything happens!" Pokkle added confidently.
Pokkle, who had become a Pro Hunter alongside Gon and the others, and Ponzu, who had failed the same exam, had eventually struck up a partnership. Now, both were training under Kite to further their skills.
"No other questions? Time is of the essence. Let's move."
Two days later, the group reached the border, where they were subjected to NGL's notoriously strict customs inspection.
"It's just a standard longsword with no hidden gadgets. Is this really a problem?" Kite asked.
"No metal weapons allowed," the guard replied flatly.
"What about this bow? It's not a chemical product," Pokkle argued.
"It's made from the bone of a Great Bone Bear and the tendons of a Sea Dragon. It's entirely natural. Just check it."
"Hey! Careful! I told you not to handle those so roughly!" Ponzu cried out as guards inspected her belongings.
"Amazing! This hat is made entirely of natural fibers and organic colonies! I've never seen anything like it!"
NGL—Neo-Green Life—was a neo-Luddite state that had utterly rejected mechanical civilization. Its citizens lived in total self-sufficiency, accepting natural disasters and wild animal attacks as a natural part of the cycle of life and death. Ironically, the border of this "back-to-nature" country utilized high-tech sensors specifically designed to detect and block any trace of modern technology.
"I didn't expect the sword to be rejected, but I'm glad Pokkle's bow and Ponzu's hat made the cut," Kite remarked.
"Master, your combat power doesn't really change with or without a sword anyway," Pokkle noted.
"If they took my hat, I'd be useless," Ponzu added, checking her gear under the watchful eye of their NGL-assigned guide.
The bow Pokkle carried was a masterpiece Kite had given him to celebrate his mastery of Nen. Though it was arguably more powerful than Pokkle's current skill level warranted, he treated it with the utmost care. Ponzu's rounded hat was her own specialized creation—the interior housed a hive of hyper-aggressive, venomous bees. Utilizing various pheromones and her Hatsu, it was a tool that even Kite found impressive.
"Alright, Guide. Take us to the nearest settlement. We'll work our way deeper from there."
"Understood. Follow me."
The group mounted their horses and began their trek into the heart of NGL. The stage was set, and the three of them were stepping directly into a death trap.
***
"I want your honest opinion. Do you think I could beat Hisoka?"
"Probably not," Biscuit Krueger replied bluntly. "To be honest, even Gon is becoming a question mark. If there's anyone who could definitely win in a one-on-one right now, it might only be Killua."
In Netero's private quarters at the Association headquarters—a room far too humble for the Chairman—he and Bisky were sharing a casual drink. The conversation centered on the terrifying growth of the young trio: Gon, Hisoka, and Killua.
"I met them all at the Hunter Exam... but they've changed so much I feel like I'm looking at different people. Maybe I'm finally going senile," Netero mused.
"Is Hisoka really growing that fast?" Bisky asked, skeptical. "He's stronger than when I first met him, sure, but 'a different person'?"
Netero had seen the growth firsthand, while Bisky found it hard to fathom that someone already at the pinnacle could evolve so rapidly.
"It's Gon's influence, without a doubt. Based on his past behavior, I'd say he's finally found some kind of mental fulfillment. I looked into Hisoka's actions after the exam... and honestly, I wouldn't have believed it was the same man."
The data on Hisoka showed a radical departure from his previous life as a hedonistic serial killer. He had even cooperated fully with Gon's group to wipe out the Phantom Troupe. The reaper who once lived only for the hunt had transitioned into the world's most formidable "Battle Clown."
"Hisoka is one thing, but Gon is truly terrifying," Bisky continued. "I never imagined there'd be an opponent with such a bad matchup for your 100-Type Guanyin Bodhisattva. Between Gon's 200% enhancement and Hisoka's Bungee Gummaking him practically immune to blunt force... I think I actually have a better shot against them than you do, Old Man."
The aging Netero, who relied heavily on the speed and precision of his Guanyin, was finding it harder to keep pace with the explosive growth of these "young saplings."
"'Age is a vital element of martial arts'... I want to punch my younger self for saying that," Netero sighed. "It's frustrating. I never thought I'd find myself envying youth."
Seeing Netero show such uncharacteristic vulnerability—even if he was a bit tipsy—was something Bisky couldn't ignore. She reached into her robe, pulled out a vial, and slid it across the table.
"This is from Greed Island, the game Ging created. It's the Witch's Rejuvenation Potion. There are fifty tablets left. One pill makes you one year younger."
Netero's eyes sharpened. He looked from the vial to Bisky, his gaze questioning her intent. Like Bisky, Netero took immense pride in the decades he had spent honing his body. To use such a shortcut felt like a betrayal of his identity as a Nen user.
"I debated giving it to you," Bisky said, finishing her drink and standing up. "But it's better off with you than sitting in my pocket. Whether you use it or not is up to you. I just... I want to see my Master at his strongest again."
She turned at the door and smiled.
"With your current level of skill and the physical body of your prime? You'd be invincible. You need to stay at the top of the mountain for a while longer."
As she left, Netero stared at the vial. He thought about his aging body and his reliance on the Guanyin. He had failed to "compress" the Guanyin further, though he had succeeded in increasing its speed and power. Bisky's dream of "prime physical ability paired with current mastery" echoed in his mind.
"...Well now. When I think about it, the answer is quite simple. It's hard for an old man to learn new tricks, but refining what I already know? That's what age is for."
He tucked the potion away in a cabinet. He would keep it as a last resort, but for now, he pushed the thought of it from his mind.
"That's right... my starting point was always the same. I just don't want to lose to anyone."
Netero sat in the center of the room and began to pray. His heart was a whirlwind of contradictions—the murderous intent to win at any cost, and a profound sense of gratitude for his rivals, his disciples, and the martial arts that had defined him. Most of all, he felt a deep respect for himself and the life he had led.
The 100-Type Guanyin Bodhisattva had taken its form because others had "envisioned" it as a goddess of mercy. Now, for the first time, Netero offered a prayer of thanks to give shape to the form he desired.
"Is this our first meeting, or has it been a long time? Doesn't matter. I'm not losing to anyone in a fair fight!"
As he prayed, his aura flickered and condensed into a new, singular shape.
"100-Type Guanyin: Prayer Form — The True Statue. Let's go, partner. I, Isaac Netero, am the strongest!"
Responding to Netero's bared teeth and wild grin, a manifestation of his prime self—an asura of combat—thrust a fist toward the heavens with a jubilant roar.