The hum of the airship's engines was a constant, soothing vibration through the cabin. Kevin lay in the dark, the events of the past months scrolling behind his eyes like a dense report. The discrepancy with his identification was a nagging loose end. Bisky, a Two-Star Hunter with immense resources and connections, had hit a wall trying to get him a clean, new identity. That wasn't just unusual; it was a red flag the size of a blimp.
It pointed to one of two things: either his original identity, the one he couldn't remember, was locked down at a security level even Bisky couldn't bypass, or it was so deeply entangled in something illicit that altering it triggered systemic alarms. Given his "craving" ability and the high-grade, often dangerous materials it sought, the latter felt increasingly likely. The mafia scion Saro Tedoruka's sudden interest in the "Pharmacist"—him—confirmed it. He wasn't just a runaway; he was a stolen asset.
Kevin sat up, the plush bedding feeling suddenly restrictive. He switched on the soft reading light and pulled out his tablet, opening a secure note file. He titled it: 'Identity Contingencies & Threat Assessment: Tedoruka Family.'
He began listing known data points:
1.
Subject 'Saro Tedoruka': Heir to a top-tier mafia syndicate. Psych profile indicates possessiveness, arrogance, and a transactional view of people as assets. His reaction to perceived betrayal is not immediate elimination, but retrieval. This suggests my value is operational, not personal. He needs my ability functional.
2.
My Former Role: Likely an in-house "pharmacist" or alchemist for the family. Produced specialized concoctions—potions, poisons, enhancements—tailored to their operations. This explains my instinctive skills and the craving's focus on rare, potent materials.
3.
Current Threat Vector: They have tracked me to Yorkshin. Standard mafia persuasion ("local family") will be attempted first. Likely a combination of bribes and threats. If that fails, they will commission outside talent. Saro's order for me "alive and unharmed" is a constraint for them, but also intelligence for me. They cannot use indiscriminate force.
4.
Hunter Association Status: My pending Hunter Exam candidacy is my best shield. Openly moving against a Hunter examinee, especially one with noted sponsors (Bisky, begel's informal endorsement), would draw intense Association scrutiny. The Tedoruka Family is powerful, but the Association is a global sovereign entity. They will prefer subtlety.
Kevin's mind raced ahead, formulating plans within plans. He couldn't hide forever. He had to pass the Exam, and quickly. The license wouldn't just be a tool for his future; it would be a declarative status that made grabbing him an act of war against the Hunter Association itself.
But he also couldn't just walk into a trap in Nancha City. Mito's information was crucial—it might illuminate the exact nature of his past with the family, providing leverage or hidden vulnerabilities.
He drafted two messages. The first was to Begel, vague but clear: 'Potential complications from old life resurfacing. May involve organized crime (Tedoruka name). Exercising caution. Will keep you informed.' He didn't ask for help; he just flagged the issue for a friendly party with resources.
The second was to Menchi and Buhara. It was even more circumspect, as they had no context: 'Unexpected delay possible en route to meet friend. If comms go silent for over a week, contact B. (Conservation Hunter, reserve). He has context.' It was a dead man's switch, of sorts.
He sent both, then erased the drafts and the note file from the tablet's local memory, keeping only an encrypted copy on a separate, physical drive.
For the rest of the flight, Kevin didn't sleep. He meditated, circulating his Nen, reinforcing his Ten. He visualized the hexagonal shield, making it instinctual, a second skin. He mentally rehearsed scenarios: an approach in a crowded market, an ambush on a mountain trail, a polite "invitation" from a smiling stranger.
When the airship began its descent into the Yorbian highlands, the first light of dawn was painting the jagged mountain peaks in rose and gold. The view was breathtaking, a world of stark, ancient beauty. But Kevin saw it through a new lens: not just as a destination, but as a potential battlefield. The remote terrain offered both danger and opportunity.
He disembarked at the small, windswept airport serving the highland region, his senses on high alert. He didn't look like a tourist anymore; he looked like what he was becoming: a Hunter in transition, calm on the surface, with a mind whirring like a clockwork trap. He collected his luggage, his hand briefly checking the secure pouch where his most potent potions—and the vial of Luminous Lotus Pollen—were stored.
The hunt was no longer just for ingredients or knowledge. Now, he was also the prey. And Kevin was determined to be the most inconvenient, well-prepared, and ultimately, uncatchable prey his former owners had ever pursued. The path to the Hunter Exam had just acquired a new, urgent layer of stakes. Every step towards Nancha City was now a step in a high-stakes game of evasion and strategic advancement. He hailed a rugged, shared jeep-taxi headed for the mountain towns, his eyes constantly scanning the sparse crowd at the terminal. The game was on.Kevin's relaxation was a carefully maintained facade. The moment he'd sensed the lingering gaze in the restaurant—not overtly hostile, but focused, assessing—his internal alarms had quieted to a low, constant hum. Paranoia was a survival skill in his line of intended work, and right now, it was his best early warning system.
Back in the privacy of his compartment, he engaged the lock and drew the privacy shade. He didn't panic. Instead, he began a methodical process.
First, he opened his luggage and rearranged its contents. His most critical items—the potion belt, the sample case with the strawberry and scale, the Luminous Lotus Pollen, his research notes on the physical drive—were transferred to a lightweight, waterproof daypack. This became his "go-bag." The larger suitcase was repacked with less essential clothing and generic supplies, a decoy to be abandoned if necessary.
Next, he assessed his physical resources. He had three Iron Wall Potions, two Blank Meteor strength potions, five Digestion Potions, and two basic Healing Potions. Offensive options were limited. His Nen was his primary weapon, with the hexagonal transformation now instinctive for defense. He could shape it offensively, but it was blunt, not sharp. He lacked a dedicated, ranged, or subtle attack.
Need to develop an offensive potion or Nen technique soon, he noted mentally. Reliance on close-quarters or buffs is a tactical gap.
He then considered the observer. A Tedoruka operative? Possibly. But the airship was a semi-public, confined space. An overt grab here would be messy, drawing immediate attention from crew and other passengers, including potentially other Hunters. It didn't fit the "alive and unharmed" directive. More likely, it was a tracker, someone to confirm his destination and report. The real attempt would come on the ground, in the less-regulated spaces of the Yorbian highlands or in Nancha City itself.
Kevin needed to control the narrative of his arrival. He couldn't just disembark and walk into a potential welcome party.
An idea formed. He connected his tablet to the airship's paid, premium satellite internet—expensive, but untraceable back to this cabin if he used a pre-paid anonymizer node. He accessed a niche travel forum for adventure seekers and posted a query under a throwaway account:
"Seeking guide/porter for 5-day trek into Makai foothills from Nancha rail terminus, starting Nov 24. Off-trail, botanical survey work. Paying in cash. Need someone who knows the back routes and avoids main trails. Reply to private box."
He listed a generic, encrypted mailbox. The date was a day before his actual meeting with Mito. The location was plausible—the Makai range was where Elara had mentioned the contested Soul-Settling Amber mines, a perfect cover for his "botanical survey." The request for back routes and avoidance of main trails would appeal to the kind of local who valued discretion and extra cash, and would inherently complicate surveillance.
Next, he reviewed the public itinerary he'd left. The ticket was to the main highland airport. He couldn't change that now without raising flags. But from there, he could disappear.
When the airship landed late that afternoon, Kevin was among the first to disembatch, moving with the brisk purpose of a businessman. He kept his En stretched to a tight two-meter radius, a sensitive bubble around him that would detect any sudden approach or concentrated aura. He didn't look for the watcher; he felt for them through the subtle pressure in his Nen field.
At the baggage claim, he shouldered his decoy suitcase and walked straight to the car rental counters. He booked a rugged 4x4 under his registered name—a predictable move he wanted them to see. As he finalized the paperwork, he let his gaze sweep the arrivals hall casually. There, near a newsstand, was a man in a nondescript jacket, pretending to browse magazines. Their eyes didn't meet, but Kevin's En had brushed against him at the airport cafe earlier. It was the same presence.
Good. You see me renting a car. You'll think you know my next move.
He took the keys and drove the 4x4 out of the airport, heading ostensibly towards Nancha City on the main mountain highway. After about twenty minutes, he pulled into a busy roadside service station complex filled with trucks. He parked at the far end, near the restrooms.
Here, he executed the switch. He changed his outer clothing in the restroom, swapping his practical jacket and pants for the more generic, bulky environmental suit from his go-bag. He left the decoy suitcase locked in the 4x4. With his daypack and new appearance, he blended into the crowd of drivers, then slipped out the back of the service area.
Using cash, he paid a trucker heading in the opposite direction—back towards a smaller, regional train station he'd noted on the map—for a spot in his cab. Two hours later, he was on a slow, local train chugging towards a town called Barlow, which was a stop on a different line that also eventually fed into the Nancha region, but from the less-traveled north.
As the train rattled through the darkening mountain passes, Kevin finally allowed himself a moment of measured satisfaction. He had created a phantom. The Tedoruka operatives, if they were competent, would track the rented 4x4. They might even find it abandoned later, with a suitcase full of clothes. They would think he was on foot in the mountains near the main road, possibly headed for the Makai range as his forum post suggested. Meanwhile, he was approaching from an unexpected vector, a day ahead of his own false schedule.
He checked the encrypted mailbox on his tablet. Already, two replies from potential guides had come in. He ignored them for now. The ruse was working.
He looked out at the stark, beautiful, and deeply isolating mountains. The hunt was indeed on. But he had just demonstrated that he wasn't just prey. He was a strategist, using the terrain, technology, and misdirection to his advantage. The Hunter Exam would test his strength and will. This side-game was testing his cunning and resourcefulness. Both, he understood, were essential skills for the life he was choosing. He settled in for the long ride, his mind already turning to the meeting with Mito, and what truths—and perhaps new dangers—it might reveal.
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