Kevin gave a small, wry smile. Begel was right. Joining a fixed conservation team, as rewarding as the work was, would chain him to a single location and mandate. His path required mobility, the freedom to chase rare materials across continents, and the autonomy to develop his unique craft. Being an official Hunter, with all the privileges and burdens that came with it, was the only framework that fit.
"You're correct," Kevin conceded. "My road leads elsewhere. But if you need analysis on any biological samples—traces of venom, unique tissue composition, anything that might hint at its origin or abilities—send them my way. Consider it a favor between… colleagues."
Begel's smile was tired but genuine. "I'll keep that in mind. And I'll hold you to that 'colleague' part once you have your license." He took a long drag from his cigarette, his gaze drifting back to the militarized activity. "The world is full of people playing with forces they don't understand, leaving messes for others to clean up. Your potions, used wisely, could help the cleaners. Just remember that."
It was parting advice, and Kevin took it to heart. Power, in any form, was a tool. The ethics lay in its application.
With nothing more to contribute, and his presence potentially complicating the official operation, Kevin gathered his belongings. His pack was heavier now, both literally and figuratively. It held his remaining potions, the precious Ichigo-Gamera strawberry sample, the bloodstained scale from the monster, and the newly inked notes on his collaboration with Menchi and Buhara.
He hitched a ride on a supply truck heading back towards the nearest town with a blimp port. As the research base—now more of a forward operating base—shrank in the rearview mirror, swallowed by the green vastness of the reserve, Kevin felt a chapter closing.
The Lost Meller Wetland had given him several gifts: mastery over the hexagonal Nen transformation, a groundbreaking partnership with two rising Gourmet Hunters, a terrifying glimpse into a new tier of threat, and a sobering lesson in the larger, messier conflicts that swirled beneath the surface of the Hunter world.
He leaned his head against the truck's window, the landscape blurring past. The Hunter Exam was now less than two months away. His training would enter its final, focused phase. He had potions to refine, side effects to eliminate, and a body to sharpen into a more perfect vessel for the Nen abilities he was meticulously collecting.
But more than that, he had a purpose that was crystallizing. He wasn't just seeking power for its own sake. He was assembling a toolkit—for survival, for exploration, and for contribution. He would become the Alchemist Hunter, a node in a web of specialists, turning the world's hidden materials into solutions, enhancements, and wonders. The monster in the swamp was a dark symbol of the chaos he might one day help contain. The feast under the stars was a bright symbol of the community he could help build.
The truck jolted over a bump, bringing him back to the present. He checked the vial of Digestion Potion in his belt pouch. A year, he'd promised. A year to perfect it. That gave him a timeline. Pass the Hunter Exam. Establish his license. Deepen his collaborations. And return, stronger and ready, to face the unknown—whether it be in the form of a winged terror or the next elusive, miraculous ingredient.
The road ahead was long, but for the first time, Kevin could see its contours clearly. He was no longer just walking a path; he was beginning to pave his own.
The decision made, Kevin spent the evening meticulously organizing his findings from the reserve. He compiled his notes on the Iron Wall Potion's mastery, the behavioral patterns of the swamp monster based on White Tree's analysis, and the preliminary terms of his collaboration with Menchi and Buhara into encrypted digital files. These were his assets, the intellectual capital of his budding career.
The next morning, he boarded the airship bound for Yorknew City. As the craft ascended, leaving the tangled green of the wetland reserve far below, Kevin felt a distinct shift. The past month had been one of deep immersion—in nature, in research, in the foundational ethics of conservation hunting. Yorkshin promised a different education entirely: one of scale, commerce, and the sheer, daunting breadth of the Hunter Association's reach.
The flight was smooth, and Yorknew City, when it appeared on the horizon, was a jaw-dropping spectacle. A forest of glittering skyscrapers formed its heart, but the city sprawled in every direction, a testament to human industry. It was a hub, a crossroads for the entire world. Hunters of every type would pass through here—Treasure Hunters selling artifacts, Blacklist Hunters tracking targets, Informant Hunters trading secrets. It was the perfect place to acquire specialized gear, hear the latest rumors, and feel the pulse of the professional Hunter world he aimed to enter.
After securing a room in a modest, business-friendly hotel in the city's bustling core, Kevin's first stop was not for sightseeing. Using a referral from Begel, he visited a discreet apothecary and rare materials dealer located in the city's "Specialty District." The shop, called The Catalyzed Element, was tucked away down an alley, its window displaying fascinating but innocuous geological specimens.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of dried herbs, minerals, and ozone. The proprietor, an elderly woman with sharp eyes magnified by thick glasses, examined Begel's coded note of introduction before giving Kevin a slow, appraising look.
"Begel sends a student, but not a conservationist," she observed, her voice like rustling parchment. "An alchemist. Interesting. What does the new blood seek?"
Kevin laid out his needs clearly: high-purity solvents that could act as universal carriers for his potions, inert stabilizers to extend shelf-life, and most importantly, any information or leads on Soul-Settling Amber or Luminous Lotus Pollen. He needed the real thing to begin his side-effect elimination trials.
The old woman, who introduced herself simply as Elara, listened intently. "The pollen can be acquired. It will be expensive. The amber..." she trailed off, tapping a withered finger on the counter. "That is trickier. There is a rumor of a new vein discovered in the Makai Mountain range near where you're headed, but the mining rights are contested. Smugglers might have pieces, but quality and authenticity are a gamble."
She agreed to source the pollen for him within the week. For the rest, she sold him a set of professional-grade, neutral glass vials and a case lined with Nen-reactive felt that would minimize energy degradation in his concoctions during travel.
Over the next several days, Kevin divided his time. Mornings were spent in his hotel room, working on theoretical refinements to his potion formulas, integrating the principles Menchi had mentioned about "harmonious flavors indicating harmonious energies." Afternoons, he explored Yorkshin, not as a tourist, but as an investigator. He visited public Hunter Association halls, absorbing the atmosphere, reading mission bulletins, and listening to the conversations in adjacent cafes. He heard snippets about archeological digs, missing persons, exotic beast sightings, and political intrigues—a dizzying sampler of the endless variety of Hunter work.
He also purchased practical gear: a multi-spectrum environmental suit suitable for everything from deserts to alpine conditions, a set of ultra-fine manipulation tools for field extraction of delicate materials, and a rugged, satellite-linked tablet for off-grid data work.
The scale of the city and the scope of the Hunter activities it facilitated were exhilarating and mildly overwhelming. It cemented his understanding: the Hunter's License wasn't just a tool; it was a key to this vast, interconnected machine. It would grant him access to restricted auctions, private databases, and trusted networks like Elara's that were closed to outsiders.
A week after his arrival, Elara sent a message. The Luminous Lotus Pollen had arrived. The transaction was swift and conducted in the back of her shop. The vial she handed him contained a fine, iridescent powder that seemed to hold light within itself. It was the most expensive material he'd ever purchased, costing nearly a third of his remaining funds. He handled it with reverence.
With the pollen secured, Kevin knew it was time to move towards his rendezvous. He booked passage on a mountain rail line that would take him from the coastal plains of Yorknew into the heart of the Yorbian continent's highlands, towards the remote region surrounding Nancha City.
As the train chugged out of the gargantuan station, leaving the steel-and-glass canyons of Yorkshin behind, Kevin felt prepared. He had traded the deep, focused silence of the swamp for the roaring symphony of the metropolis, and now he was heading into the ancient quiet of the mountains. Each environment had taught him something. The reserve taught him detail and patience. Yorkshin taught him scale and opportunity.
Now, the mountains would offer their own lessons. Mito awaited with answers about his past. The Hunter Exam loomed on the horizon, the final gate. And in his pack, he carried the seeds of his future: his potions, his notes, his new tools, and the glowing pollen that represented the next step in his craft. He was no longer just learning; he was assembling the pieces of his professional identity, one deliberate acquisition, one hard-won insight, at a time. The journey to Nancha City wasn't just a trip across a continent; it was the next logical step on the path he was forging for himself.
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