How many months and years have flowed by since I first began studying Kazama-ryu Aikijujutsu?
Before I knew it, I had become the third-most senior disciple in the entire dojo. Though I still hesitate to say I've truly mastered its underlying principles.
Compared to raw physical workouts, this was an unfathomably long, mind-numbing repetition of drills. Yet I never found it painful. This, too, was training. And if it's training, the only choice is to enjoy it. Repetition upon repetition.
My master was already over ninety years old, yet I still couldn't defeat him. But that was fine. In fact, that was wonderful. A goal is always better when set high.
By the way, it turned out my master, Ryuzen Kazama (風間 柳禅), was indeed a Nen user.
Back during our first match, he simply determined there was no need to use Nen against me.
Just by looking at my muscle structure, he deduced my body wasn't built for combat; from my footwork and breathing, he saw that my martial skill was strictly amateur; and from the flow of my aura, he knew I had only fought Nen users a handful of times in my life.
A true grandmaster... The only things about me that caught his eye were my total aura capacity and the high quality of my basic Nen techniques.
Master Ryuzen's total aura reserve, however, was less than a fourth of what I possessed upon enrollment. According to him, the duration he could maintain Ken had hit a hard ceiling early on in his youth. That limitation led him to the revelation that even with a modest aura pool, one could completely overwhelm opponents through sheer technical mastery.
And that was how Kazama-ryu Aikijujutsu was born.
Master Ryuzen himself never believed he had reached the absolute peak of the art, spending every single day training alongside me and his other senior disciples. Because he was a Nen user, my own Nen training progressed far more smoothly than before. Joyful days flashed by in the blink of an eye.
Over the past few years, the duration I can maintain Ken has stopped increasing... It seems my total aura capacity has finally reached its ultimate ceiling.
Well, no matter. Lately, my Ken duration had become so ridiculously long that I was practicing other exercises while keeping Ken active the entire time. If anything, having this much aura is already more than enough. Without neglecting my fundamentals, my only task now is to push deeper into the pinnacle of "soft" martial arts.
My muscles have also deteriorated considerably. It's inevitable; I'm already past sixty years old. I'm roughly the same age Master Ryuzen was when I first walked through the dojo's doors. I wonder... could my current self defeat the master from back then?
Through cross-style sparring matches over the years, I discovered that the Shingen-ryu Kung Fu school also incorporates techniques that align with the principles of "soft" arts. In the past, I foolishly assumed Kung Fu was merely about battering opponents down with heavy strikes. How embarrassing. Shingen-ryu Kung Fu is truly a martial art that unites the rigid and the soft as one.
Naturally, I have zero intention of switching styles away from Kazama-ryu Aikijujutsu this late in life.
My master passed away... at the venerable age of 106.
It was natural causes—old age. Even a grandmaster could not defeat time...
Three days before his passing, we held a match, and as a result, he bestowed upon me the Menkyo Kaiden (Certificate of Full Mastery).
That was a day I wept like a child, completely unbefitting my age.
And then, just three days later, he was gone. It was far too sudden...
Master Ryuzen had likely sensed his own end approaching... That was why he gave me the opportunity to receive full mastery before he departed. It had to be.
Countless people gathered for his funeral. Not just disciples, but townspeople and practitioners from other martial arts schools came to pay their respects. That was how profound his virtue was, and how deeply he was beloved by all. I felt as proud as if it were my own father.
Master's face in death was extraordinarily peaceful. When my time comes, I hope to leave this world in the exact same way.
The man who was like a second father to me was gone, but I could not spend my days lost in grief. I have a mission.
To push the principles of the "soft" art to greater heights, and to spread my master's teachings to the entire world.
Of the two senior disciples who received Menkyo Kaiden before me, one inherited Master Ryuzen's main dojo, while the other established his own dojo elsewhere in Japon.
In that case, I will build my dojo outside of Japon and spread Master's teachings across the globe.
To that end, I changed my name. Taking a character from Master's name and combining it with a character from my original name, I became Ryusho Kazama (風間 柳晶). If this name spreads far and wide, it will make it that much easier for the name of the founder, Ryuzen Kazama, to be remembered.
This was also a declaration of my resolve to bury my bones in this world.
The time I've spent here is now vastly longer than the life I lived in my previous world; recalling that past life has become difficult. I harbor no hesitation about dying in this world. My only lingering regret is that I never fulfilled my filial duties to my mother and father back home.
If only I could apologize to them, even just once...
◆
I am currently heading toward Heavens Arena.
One month after leaving Japon, while traveling and pondering where to establish my dojo, rumors of Heavens Arena reached my ears.
Heavens Arena—the landmark that would eventually be called the sacred ground of barbarians, currently recognized as the tallest building in the world. (Wait... wasn't it fourth tallest? My memory might be slipping. It's been over fifty years since I used [Original Knowledge / Protagonist Perk], after all. There's no way I'd remember the manga clearly).
Still, Heavens Arena... what nostalgic terminology. It brings back memories of the original story...
No, calling it "the original story" is probably wrong. That was a fictional work, but this world exists right here in reality.
Calling it a "story" or "fiction" is an insult to every living soul in this world—and by extension, an unforgivable insult to my master. That, I will never permit...
Regardless, now that Heavens Arena exists, there's no reason not to take advantage of it. Winning consistently there will serve as exceptional publicity for Kazama-ryu. It will do wonders to spread Master's teachings, while also providing valuable training for myself. Truly two birds with one stone.
Fighting practitioners of other disciplines and self-taught fighters proved to be invaluable experience.
I had sparred against cross-style challengers and dojo-busters before, but every match here was refreshing. Seeing entirely new techniques and abilities, figuring out how to counter them on the fly—some opponents possessed Nen powers that Aikijujutsu struggled to counter cleanly.
Even at my age, I still have so much to learn. It makes the pursuit of training all the more rewarding.
It took me about two years to become a Floor Master.
Climbing to the 200th floor was trivial, but things slowed down dramatically after that. Not because the 200th-floor fighters were exceptionally strong—honestly, only a handful could be considered genuinely formidable Nen users.
The real problem was the arena's matching system.
At first, it was fine; opponents assumed I was just a frail old man and took me lightly. But after four consecutive victories, everyone grew wary and began actively avoiding matches with me.
Fortunately, I managed to secure enough matches before the preparation grace period expired. Good grief, what a colossal waste of time.
I thought I could finally build the dojo with this, but I hit another snag.
The funds required to construct a proper dojo exceeded my life savings combined with the prize money I earned climbing to the 200th floor.
While contemplating what to do, my financial problems were resolved almost immediately. A patron offered to fully sponsor me—with one specific condition.
The sole condition: the dojo had to be built in the patron's home city on the Yorbian continent.
Apparently, the patron's granddaughter wanted to learn martial arts for self-defense. However, the family didn't want her building massive, bulky muscle, making a martial art that even a frail old man like me could master the ideal choice.
...Aikijujutsu isn't something learned overnight, and because it's a martial art, people can get hurt, but the patron fully understood those risks. He gave me his word that even if his granddaughter never mastered self-defense, he would never pull funding or foreclose on the dojo. He also explicitly insisted that I shouldn't give her special treatment just because of her family connections.
He struck me as a genuinely trustworthy gentleman. Under those terms, I gladly accepted his sponsorship.
Construction of the dojo would take about six months. During that time, I focused on advertising, moving preparations, and self-cultivation... That last one is a habit I can never drop.
By the way, I resigned from my Floor Master position upon leaving Heavens Arena. From here on out, I'd be far too busy raising disciples.
The dojo was completed. Naturally, it was built in the traditional Japon style.
It was considerably grander than Master's dojo, which made me feel a bit awkward. As his student, having a more magnificent facility felt slightly presumptuous. But it couldn't be helped—a shabby dojo would only tarnish Master's name.
Now then, things are about to get busy.
◆
Five years have passed since opening the dojo.
The number of enrolled disciples is exploding, already surpassing one thousand.
In truth, far more people wish to join, but no matter how spacious the dojo is, there are physical limits to how many students we can accommodate.
More importantly, instruction cannot be properly distributed. I have only one body, while the disciples are legion. Teaching multiple students simultaneously while ensuring quality is extraordinarily difficult.
I've even had to rely on my very first student—the patron's granddaughter—to assist with basic instruction. She is exceptionally talented and hardworking, improving at a staggering pace. Making her act like an assistant instructor weighs heavily on my conscience. If she could focus entirely on her own training, her growth would be boundless...
If only I had other qualified instructors—men and women worthy of being called Shihan-dai (Master Instructors)...
Then it hit me.
I could rely on my two senior martial brothers back in Japon!
I took up my brush, explained the situation abroad, and sent a letter asking if they could dispatch qualified instructors.
Half a year later, three martial artists arrived at the dojo gates.
I recognized all three—they were my junior martial brothers from Master's dojo. Having read my letter, they gladly volunteered to help.
I was deeply moved. To think they would willingly travel to a foreign land just to lend a hand...
All three possessed more than enough skill to serve as instructors. With that, our staffing shortage was solved. We even established branch dojos, with the most capable of the three taking the helm as branch master.
Everything was proceeding smoothly.
And that was when he appeared at our doors...
...Strong. Inconceivably strong...
He looked to be in his sixties. It might sound rich coming from me, but he was certainly an elderly man. Yet his body was forged to the absolute limit. A lean, flawlessly conditioned physique. It wasn't just built for show; every single fiber of muscle existed purely for martial arts.
...The ultimate ideal of what my past self had once sought... this man held it in the palm of his hand.
That wasn't all. His face radiated immense confidence, yet not a shred of arrogance. His footwork, his breathing, every minute gesture made me realize that he had attained the absolute apex of the martial realm.
The man had come to test his strength.
Hearing that, I nodded. Of course he had. That was never the face of someone seeking to become a student.
...Can I defeat this man...?
Heh. Unbefitting my age, my blood is boiling.
Calming my spirit, I accept his challenge.
Five minutes have elapsed since we squared off.
Surrounding us, the disciples sat in seiza, holding their breath. Not a single soul dared utter a whisper.
And naturally so. An overwhelming pressure of spiritual force blanketed the entire dojo. My full-power aura and his aura were fiercely clashing in the air. A few weaker students had already fainted from the sheer intensity.
He provoked me, but I didn't budge an inch.
My style revolves around utilizing the opponent's momentum and force against them. I could initiate the attack, but I doubted an offensive strike from me would work on this man. In that case, I must focus every nerve on reading his movement and await his strike.
He's moving!
The instant I sensed it—it wasn't that my eyes couldn't track him; he closed the five-meter gap at a speed that literally erased the visual distance.
What followed was an attack that even Gyo could not perceive.
Only in retrospect did I recognize it as a straight right punch (seiken tsuki). It never registered in my vision; it had truly left sound in its wake.
The fact that I reacted was solely the fruit of endless discipline. His aura flow, muscle contractions, and breathing were all world-class, yet I caught the infinitesimal fluctuation at the instant he shifted into attack.
Had I not caught that—or had our ages been reversed—that single blow would have ended me on the spot.
My body moved before my brain could process the command.
Subconsciously, I seized his wrist and applied the technique. Twisting the joint, I forced his body into a half-revolution. Yet he reacted instantly, launching himself into the spin to prevent landing on his head.
Letting him escape here meant forfeiting victory.
As his body rotated and his head passed the lowest arc, I swept his head with my foot to forcefully accelerate the spin.
Sure enough, his landing timing was shattered.
While he was still suspended upside-down in midair, I drove a palm strike charged with roughly 70% Ryu into his jaw, slamming the back of his head straight into the wooden floorboards with the full momentum of his fall.
He managed to cushion the impact with Gyo and a breakfall. That prevented fatal damage, but it didn't matter. He couldn't completely neutralize the shockwave rattling his brain.
I immediately followed through with the finishing blow.
Gathering all my available aura into a single fingertip, I executed Ko (硬).
This concentration would definitively pierce through his remaining defense.
Aiming for his vital point to render him unconscious, I thrust forward—
And at that exact fraction of a second—!
A cataclysmic impact tore through my entire body, and before I could even comprehend what happened, I was blasted clean through the dojo wall and hurled out into the courtyard...!
◆
(Isaac Netero's Perspective)
It had been years since I descended from the mountain. I had traveled from dojo to dojo fighting strong warriors, but something was missing.
Somewhere along the line, I had stopped initiating attacks and began waiting for my opponents to strike first.
Somewhere along the line, I had gotten used to immediately shaking the hands of defeated challengers without any hesitation.
That's not what I'm looking for. The battle I crave... the true pinnacle of martial arts...
The next stop on my list was this place: Kazama-ryu Aikijujutsu.
Supposedly, a former Heavens Arena Floor Master was the dojo master here.
A Floor Master, huh? None of the ones I met before were particularly impressive. Expecting another disappointment, I stepped inside.
The master was an elderly man. Definitely older than me. About 170 cm tall, weighing barely 50 kg—a frail-looking old man who resembled a withered twig. Judging by his muscle tone, his frame was likely more fragile than an average person's.
If I hit him seriously, he'll break...
Or so I thought, right up until that moment.
What in the world... what an enormous aura...!
Where on earth was that frail body storing such immense energy?
And that was all. His aura was as tranquil and deep as a dead-calm sea. I had more raw aura volume, but when it came to refinement and control, was he actually superior to me...?
His muscles were ordinary, but his martial foundation was something else entirely. His footwork, his breathing... had he reached a completely different peak of martial mastery than mine?
Fascinating...!
To think I'd encounter an opponent of this caliber. The world really is vast.
We stood facing each other for over five minutes.
I tried provoking him, but he showed zero reaction. Truly like a willow swaying in the wind.
Fine by me. This is exactly what I've been searching for!
Not waiting for the opponent to strike, but launching myself forward to conquer them!
Here I come! Don't you dare go down in one hit!
I shattered the floorboards with a crushing step to close the distance. He didn't seem able to track me...
Yet I didn't lower my guard. Anything can happen in a battle between Nen users.
I unleashed the straight punch I had spent over a decade perfecting in complete isolation!
Before I knew it, my wrist was trapped.
Unbelievable! He definitely didn't see my movement!
When I tried to follow up with my other fist, he used my own arm as a shield to block it... Damn, he's good!
He twisted my wrist. In that instant, I knew I was being thrown.
This is bad. I threw myself into the rotation to avoid landing on my head, thinking I could safely recover—
What?!
In the middle of the throw, he kicked my head to accelerate the spin!
Tch! My timing was completely broken.
I'll attack while in midair— But before the thought finished, his counter struck.
He's brilliant to the core... Reading my intent and seizing the initiative from behind.
I concentrated Gyo to my jaw to withstand the strike that carried at least 70% offensive aura.
He slammed the back of my head into the floor, but I broke my fall to minimize the damage. However, that strike wasn't meant to deal lethal damage—it was meant to scramble my brain.
This is bad. It'll take fractions of a second for my head to clear.
That momentary pause is a fatal opening!
An immense volume of aura is gathering into his single fingertip. To concentrate that much aura into a single finger in an instant... what terrifying precision!
If that hits me, I'm done for. A standard guard won't make it in time. Blocking with Ko requires concentrating aura to the exact same density, and if I misjudge the impact point by even a millimeter, it's over!
—[100-Type Guanyin Bodhisattva](百式観音 - Hyakushiki Kannon)!!!!!—
I screwed up!
I reflexively summoned the Guanyin Bodhisattva! Or rather... he forced my hand.
Being pushed that far was exhilarating, honestly. But he was in the middle of executing a Ko attack—meaning the rest of his body had literally zero aura defense!
And that old master's natural physical durability was barely above an ordinary human's...
Did I... just kill him...?
What have I done? I had no intention of killing him. Not when I finally found a worthy rival...
Surrounded by the panicked shouts of disciples rushing to their master, I stood there in profound depression—until I felt a presence behind me.
I turned around, and there he was, walking back into the dojo under his own power.
Impossible... How? Did he switch to a Nen guard in time?! If so, what insane speed of aura distribution (Ryu)...
The old man took his stance once more.
He still wants to fight...?
...To everything that led to my meeting this man, I offer my deepest gratitude.
I really want to sit down and share a long drink with this guy over some good sake.
◆
(Ryusho's Perspective)
I genuinely thought I was dead.
What on earth was that...? The moment I realized what happened, I had already taken the hit.
It was purely an instinctive, subconscious switch to Ken. If I hadn't done that, I would undoubtedly be a corpse right now. That was how devastating that strike was...
An unavoidable blow that couldn't even be perceived. Even with my technical mastery, barely surviving it was the best I could manage...
Scolding my trembling legs, I forced myself back into the dojo.
Disciples swarmed toward me in panic, but I barked at them to stand down. I appreciated their concern, but this duel wasn't over.
Looking at my opponent, I saw shock give way to an ecstatic grin. The face of a warrior starved for a worthy challenge.
To be viewed that way by a martial artist of his caliber is the highest honor.
Now then... let us resume.
That duel became the catalyst for my friendship with the challenger—Isaac Netero.
Written as "rival," pronounced as "friend." I never imagined I would find such a bond in this life. I felt truly blessed.
The battle itself ended in my defeat. The damage from the Guanyin Bodhisattva was severe, leaving me unable to fight properly. In that condition, I stood no chance against Netero, going down in less than a minute.
Still, to think that man was the Isaac Netero...
I knew from canon that he had spent years challenging dojos, but that it was happening right now, and that he would visit my dojo, was completely outside my calculations. Truly, this is the world of Hunter × Hunter...
From then on, Netero and I sparred countless times.
I don't recall the exact win-loss ratio, but I lost roughly 60% of our matches. And that was without him using the Guanyin Bodhisattva! If he brought that out, I had zero chance of victory.
After all, my physical durability was no different from an ordinary human's. No matter how much aura I put into defense, it couldn't absorb all the concussive force.
If I could dodge or redirect the force, it would be fine, but attacks from the Guanyin Bodhisattva were unavoidable, blindingly fast strikes manifested from pure aura detached from human anatomy. There was no kinetic force to redirect. For me, it was the worst possible matchup...
Through Netero and with the cooperation of Shingen-ryu, we introduced safe Nen instruction to Kazama-ryu. Of course, only disciples deemed worthy were guided to awaken their aura through meditation.
Many awakened to Nen, but Enhancers were shockingly rare among them.
...Are simple, straightforward people really that scarce in my dojo? Well, Nen affinity isn't solely determined by personality, I suppose.
The days spent training and sparring with Netero were immensely fulfilling. Fighting someone equal to or greater than myself consistently nurtured my growth.
At one point, Netero invited me to take the Hunter Exam, but I declined.
I likely wouldn't pass. The Hunter Exam is a gauntlet of trials; raw combat skill alone isn't enough.
My stamina and physical endurance are sorely lacking. If there were a long-distance marathon phase, I'd be the very first to drop out.
Besides, if I had time to waste on an exam, I'd rather spend it training.
...Netero called me a "training idiot." Look who's talking!
Yet, even these days must come to an end.
My time is drawing near.
...I likely have only a few days left. Natural causes—old age. I've lived past 130 years old. Quite the long life...
My only lingering concern was that I hadn't formally named a successor. I couldn't die in peace leaving things unresolved... My own master must have felt the exact same way.
I summoned someone to the dojo. An elderly woman arrived—my very first disciple, the granddaughter of my original patron (Linna).
After her grandfather passed and she took over his company, she never stopped training here. And after handing the company over to her son, she has spent nearly every day practicing in the dojo.
In terms of both standing and skill, she was the ideal candidate to inherit the school.
I granted her the Menkyo Kaiden and entrusted the future of Kazama-ryu to her hands.
She was caught off guard and initially refused, insisting there were more worthy candidates, but I persuaded her, claiming I simply wanted to enjoy a quiet retirement. Tricking her pained my heart, but it was my final selfish request. I hope she forgives me.
Afterward, I wrote a letter to Netero with just four words:
"Never neglect your training." (研鑽を怠るな)
That was enough. A man like him would honor that promise. Perhaps it might even help him prevent an unprecedented catastrophe in the distant future.
I never told him about the uncertain future. I had no way of knowing if canon would unfold as written, and passing off knowledge obtained through an unfair advantage would be disrespectful to both him and this world.
The letter was timed to reach Netero in one week. By the time he read it and grew suspicious, I would already be long gone.
I have no desire to let anyone see me in my dying moments...
It is time.
Sitting alone in seiza inside the quiet dojo, I can feel the Reaper drawing close...
My heartbeat grows fainter and fainter, soon to cease entirely.
Though I was separated from my parents when I crossed over from my original world, I found a father here: my master, Ryuzen.
Though I never saw my sister again, I found brothers: my fellow disciples who studied under our master.
Though I never married or took a wife, I had children: over ten thousand disciples across the world.
Though I can barely recall my friends from my past life, I found a true friend: my greatest rival, Netero.
I am proud to have met them all.
This was a life where I accomplished everything I set out to do.
In my entire life, I have not a single shred of regret...
Thump... thump... thump... thump...
Thump... thump... thump... thump...
Thump... thump... thump...
Thump... thump...
Thump...
My heart... has stopped...
[Absolute Obedience / Geass] — DEACTIVATED.
...WAIT A FREAKING MINUTE!!?
WHAT DO YOU MEAN "NO REGRETS," YOU IDIOT?!
I HAVE A MOUNTAIN OF REGRETS, DAMMIT ALL!!!
WHY WAS I ABOUT TO DIE ALL PEACEFUL AND SATISFIED?!
AM I STUPID?! AM I REALLY GOING TO DIE?!
NO WAY IN HELL! I'M STILL A VIRGIN, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!
Staying pure for over 130 years doesn't make me a wizard—I'm an Emperor of Virgins!!
I CAN'T DIE LIKE THIS! HOW CAN I POSSIBLY DIE LIKE THIS?!!
PLEASE! ACTIVATE, MY THIRD NEN ABILITY!!
I deliberately avoided creating any other Hatsu abilities just for this moment!
Please! If I die like this, I will literally never rest in peace!!!!!
P-Please... It's no good... My... con... scious... ness... is...
...
November 11, 1985 — Ryusho Kazama passed away.
Third Nen Ability: [Reincarnation / New Game Plus] (輪廻転生/ツヨクテニューゲーム)... Unactivated.
Age at death: 132 years old.
It is said that countless people attended his funeral, including a multitude of disciples and the Chairman of the Hunter Association, rumored to be his closest friend.
◆
[AN]
The prologue is now over. The main story will begin in the next chapter. There hasn't been any dialogue up until now, but that will change starting next time. For the time being, I will write down the settings for the unactivated third Nen ability.
[Reincarnation / New Game Plus]
Specialist Type Ability <- This is important A Nen ability that allows the user to be reborn into a new life after death. The user is able to carry over their knowledge, experience, and aura capacity (physical abilities and aptitudes are dependent on the new reincarnated body). However, because it is so incredibly unique, it is classified as a Specialist ability, meaning the protagonist—who is a Manipulator—could not use it (the protagonist was hoping to acquire the Specialist typing later in life).
It will not activate unless the user dies.
The cause of death can be anything, but it will not activate if it is a suicide. Furthermore, intentionally allowing oneself to be killed by another person is also treated as suicide.
The longer the user lives, the higher the probability of it activating. This is because living a long life in this world is very difficult.
If the user has sexual intercourse with a woman while they are alive, this ability will permanently disappear.