Don sat back into the narrow stretch of shadow, like a gargoyle keeping night watch.
Under his hood, the twisted face he hid wasn't any less terrifying than the fanged stone statues.
"The 'Curse of Flesh and Blood' constantly puts my body and mind through agony. My skin splits open like it's being burned."
"Even a wound the size of a fingernail will make me bleed endlessly."
Don spoke in a low, flat tone, describing his terrifying ordeal.
"Besides that, for about one-third of every day, the world I see becomes bizarre and grotesque, drowned in crimson."
"Fortunately, I didn't encounter you all during one of those cursed episodes."
"Otherwise, you'd appear to me as horrifying monsters—your flesh torn open, tendons and organs exposed."
Everyone's brows furrowed. They understood what it meant to be trapped in hallucinations.
But none of them had to deal with something that intense for a third of every single day.
"During those times, I can't tell reality from illusion. Talking normally becomes nearly impossible."
"There was one time… I woke up and realized I had killed a harmless beast… and eaten its flesh."
"In its eyes, I was probably the terrifying creature that attacked it out of nowhere."
They could hear the weight in Don's voice.
It was clear that the 'Curse of Flesh and Blood' had imprisoned him for a long time.
No one wanted to become something neither human nor ghost.
"Isn't there any way to remove the 'Curse of Flesh and Blood'?" Germain asked.
Don quietly shook his head.
"I've tried countless methods—more than you could imagine."
"'Herb for All-illnesses,' Exorcism, blood replacement, flesh regeneration… None of it worked."
His voice turned cold, eerie—each word laced with clenched teeth and barely contained fury.
"In the end, I discovered the only 'cure' for the Curse of Flesh and Blood... is to eat raw meat and drink fresh blood."
"The fresher it is—untreated, untouched—the better it eases the symptoms."
A dead silence hung over the campfire. Only the soft crackling of burning wood broke the stillness.
"Look at me," Don said with a bitter laugh. "Over three hundred years away from human civilization... I've nearly become a wild beast living off raw meat and blood... heh..."
At that point, Germain had already made the connection—this so-called "Chosen by the Gods" was no different from the "Legendary Nen Users" he'd theorized about.
If both he and Don were among the chosen, then Don must also possess a similar—or even greater—legendary Physique.
In theory, that should make them immune to most Nen abilities, curses, and diseases.
But Don was still suffering.
That meant... not even a legendary body could resist the Flesh Curse of the Demigods. It could only lessen the effects—never erase them.
In fact, if Don hadn't had that legendary Physique to begin with... he would've died long ago.
Germain asked quietly, "Is that why you've been keeping your distance from us?"
Don nodded. "The Curse of Flesh is contagious to anyone with a physical body."
"This distance between us—it's what I've calculated as the safe zone after multiple tests."
"Even so, even if we stood face-to-face, you might not necessarily get infected."
"But the longer the contact... the higher the risk. And I'm not willing to take that chance."
"And more than that," he added, "even objects I've used for too long—my clothes, scrolls, writing tools—if someone else touches them... they could catch the curse too."
He looked up at everyone and said:
"For your safety, I'll only stay here a little while longer—then I'll leave."
"If any of you get infected with the 'Curse of Flesh and Blood' because of me, that would be my sin to bear."
Ging frowned.
He had originally planned to find a way to get the complete Journey to the New World from Don.
But now that there was a curse involved, he felt uncomfortable taking it.
Don seemed to see right through his thoughts. He let out a hoarse chuckle and said:
"You're probably all interested in the Journey to the New World I have, right?"
"Sorry. Even without the 'Curse of Flesh and Blood', I still wouldn't give it to you."
Ging was surprised and couldn't help asking, "Why not?"
"Three hundred years ago, didn't you give some copies to the exploration team members you rescued? Why not give one to us?"
"Because the situations are completely different," Don replied with a smile.
"Back then, people needed information from me. Otherwise, who knows how many more years it would've taken before someone explored the Dark Continent."
"If they had backed down because of fear, it would've been a terrible loss."
"But you all are different."
"You've already defeated the Four Great Calamities and obtained the Four Great Hopes."
"People like you already have the strength to settle on the eastern shore of Lake Mobius."
"I won't hand over the Journey to the New World, at least not right now."
"Besides, after over three hundred years, many of my records on the eastern shore are outdated anyway."
"You should return to the Six Continents and compile your own updated, complete record of your journey into the Dark Continent."
"This time, try to let it spread wider—don't let it be sealed away like a forbidden book again."
Ging raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You know about the Journey to the New World: East Edition being banned?"
"Of course I do." Don tapped the ancient book's cover lightly and smiled. "My Nen ability is called 'Chains of Knowledge.'"
"'Chains of Knowledge'?" As soon as they heard that, everyone had a guess in their hearts.
Sure enough, Don continued speaking:
"The more wholeheartedly I write my stories, the stronger the Nen within them becomes."
"And the Nen from the original manuscript forms a 'chain of Nen' with each copy."
He stretched out his hands, connecting his index fingers with a thread of Nen.
"Copies also form Nen chains with other copies."
"This creates a massive web of chains, all centered around the original manuscript in my hands."
"To break this 'chain of knowledge,' the contents of my original must be completely scattered during its spread — fragmented beyond recognition."
"There's another way too — destroy the source. That means killing me, or destroying the original in my hands."
He pointed at the worn volume in Shizuku's hands and said:
"Even though it's damaged, it's not broken beyond repair. That's why my original can still resonate with it."
Everyone listening seemed to have a moment of realization.
Don continued:
"Every person who reads a copy passes on a bit of their life energy, including Nen, to me through this chain of knowledge."
"That was the selfish reason I had that expedition team spread the East Edition back then."
"So I already knew many of the copies were destroyed, and that the chain of knowledge was being broken."
"I can pretty much guess what happened. In human history, there's rarely anything truly new."
As Don spoke, he glanced suspiciously at Ging.
Some spiritual intuition told him — the Ging he had just spoken with wasn't ordinary.
Not because of his strength.
Sure, Ging was strong. But not nearly as overwhelming as the man standing next to him — Germain.
So if it was just about raw power, Ging wasn't special compared to Germain.
What Don sensed was something different, something beyond power.
He couldn't help but stare at Ging and asked, "What's your name?"
"Ging." Ging no longer had any intention of hiding it. He was quite straightforward. After a pause, he added, "Ging Freecss."
Don's eyes suddenly widened. He looked Ging over carefully again and said, "Are you a descendant of the Freecss family?"
"Yes. I'm sorry for hiding it earlier—because I wasn't sure of your identity," Ging said. "But now I'm certain. You are my ancestor—Don Freecss."
Don paused in surprise, then suddenly laughed out loud and said:
"So there is a member of the Freecss family here after all. No wonder I've felt this strange sense deep down..."
"Great. The Freecss family still has descendants alive. That's wonderful."
More than 300 years had passed—everything had changed.
Everyone he once knew, including members of the Freecss family, had long since passed away.
He had been cut off from the world for so long, there was no way for him to know how the Freecss family was doing.
For all he knew, the family might've died out completely—leaving him as the only one left.
Now that he could see Ging with his own eyes, many emotions stirred in his heart.
Ging, a little excited, added:
"I think that expedition team back then really did hand over a copy of the manuscript to a Freecss family member of that time, and it was passed down through the generations."
"Even though it's only a partial copy, it was the book that first inspired me to become a Hunter."
"It was to meet you—the one who wrote that great work—that I came all this way."
*******
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