"Come on, come on! This is no time to be slacking off! Recovery time comes much later!"
"Training when you're exhausted is precisely when it yields the greatest results. Never assume you will always fight in top condition!"
"Six!!"
"Correct! But Gon and Killua were a fraction too slow. Gon, five hundred push-ups! Killua, three hundred!"
Grrr! Lost again! Kurapika's reaction speed is on an entirely different level compared to before! Word has it he practiced this Gyo number-guessing drill continuously against Aisha and suffered an unbroken streak of defeats.
Once the group expanded, the three boys competed among themselves without Aisha. When Kurapika claimed his very first victory, he was so moved he looked ready to shed tears of joy. Though losing had become such deeply ingrained muscle memory that even after winning, he instinctively dropped to the floor and started doing push-ups out of sheer reflex.
The look Aisha and Bisky gave Kurapika was filled with deep pity and apologetic sorrow...
Still, so this is the training regimen Kurapika has been enduring...
It was brutal, without question, but the physical drills themselves weren't impossible to bear. It wasn't like the literal torture training of surviving high-voltage electrocution, ingesting lethal poisons, or building torture tolerance that I went through at home.
The real terror, however, was the sheer density of it.
Without a single second to rest, training was crammed to the brim. The moment we collapsed from total exhaustion, Bisky's [Magical Esthetician / Cookie-chan] forcibly restored our stamina in just thirty minutes. Then the exact same hell started all over again. Shovel in hand, we infused our tools with Shu to shroud them in aura, and dug into the earth. Dig, dig, and keep digging.
Once we excavated a massive trench, we shoveled all the displaced soil right back in. To avoid destroying the surrounding natural environment, we repeated this endless cycle in the exact same spot—the cleared patch of ground right in front of Gon's house.
Sure, repeating it over and over was exhausting, and keeping a metal shovel continuously shrouded in aura took a massive toll on one's reserves. In theory, it was a two-birds-with-one-stone exercise that expanded both physical stamina and total aura output.
Under normal circumstances, digging into the ground is easy. Shoveling soft topsoil doesn't require aura reinforcement at all. Digging up soil that had already been loosened once should have been a breeze.
Except Aisha would never let us off with something that simple.
The reason we had to pour aura into our shovels just to break the ground wasn't merely to expand our output.
It was because without Shu, the shovel wouldn't even dent the dirt...!
That damn Aisha!! Shrouding the entire ground itself in Shu—what kind of monstrous stunt is that?!
The earth reinforced by Aisha's Shu was so unnaturally dense that our normal muscle strength couldn't scratch it. Only a shovel heavily reinforced with our own aura could manage to chip away at the soil, adjusted to an excruciatingly precise hardness.
And so, we dug and filled, dug and filled, endlessly shoveling dirt that felt like solid bedrock. An endless cycle of despair, a psychological torture distinct from the physical torture I grew up with...
According to Aisha, this first phase was designed to build baseline physical endurance, mental fortitude, total aura pool, and fine aura manipulation all at once. Scattered in between were lecture sessions on Nen theory by Aisha and Bisky, along with Gyo number-guessing drills.
Meanwhile, Kurapika spent his time dedicated entirely to maintaining Ten, Zetsu, and extending his continuous Ken duration. Occasionally, he practiced Ryu exercises with Bisky—supposedly based on a martial arts footwork system called Ryuryubu—or engaged in close-quarters sparring with Aisha. From Kurapika's perspective, this current schedule was practically a luxurious vacation compared to what he had endured previously.
...Just how insanely overtuned had his prior training been? If someone told me this was a classified government super-soldier project called the "Kurapika Overhaul Experiment," I'd believe it without hesitation.
More than anything, Aisha was terrifying. You genuinely couldn't fathom the depths of her strength.
While continuously reinforcing the ground beneath our feet with Shu, she casually read books, performed one-handed weight training, sparred with Kurapika, or traded blows with Bisky. Yet throughout it all, not once did her aura show even the slightest sign of flagging. Just what kind of boundless ocean was her aura reserve?
"What should we make for dinner tonight? Any requests?" Aisha asked in an utterly relaxed, cheerful tone.
Who was she even talking to? Us, who were desperately digging holes after five hundred push-ups? Bisky, who was engrossed in reading some suspicious magazine with a smug grin? ...Or Kurapika, who was currently spinning through the air in the middle of a sparring exchange with her?
Oh, look—Kurapika managed to wrap his conjured chain around Aisha while mid-spin... and got swung around along with his own chain. How did she even do that? Why didn't the chains tangle?
At this rate, before Kurapika's inner ear developed superior balance, he was going to unlock punch-drunk syndrome as a permanent passive skill...
"S-Something... pant, pant... light..."
"Same here... gasp, wheeze... definitely nothing greasy..."
"Ugh... I... I don't think I can eat a single bite today. If I swallow anything... it's coming straight back out."
All three of us were running on fumes. No matter how many times our physical stamina was reset, having our schedules packed with non-stop torture—ahem, training—completely destroyed our appetite.
"How pathetic! Aisha, I'm in the mood for traditional Japon food. You're pretty good at making home-style dishes, right?" Bisky asked from the porch.
"I can't make high-end kaiseki courses, but I can manage ordinary home cooking," Aisha replied.
"That's plenty! I'm not looking for professional restaurant dining anyway. Home-cooked comfort food is wonderful. By the way, using Shu to reinforce the ground is remarkably convenient. It allows digging training anywhere without needing a quarry."
"I originally developed it to maximize the impact damage of Kazama-ryu throws. Against Nen users, simply slamming them onto soft earth doesn't always deal critical damage."
"Quite an unexpected application. Though the aura consumption must be tremendous."
"It doubles as personal aura maintenance training for me as well. Very rational, wouldn't you say?"
"Indeed. Though it would have been even better if you'd thought of it before buying that entire mountain range for digging practice."
"Ugh... Sometimes ideas only come when necessity demands it..."
They chatted pleasantly right next to us while we were coughing up our souls. ...Damn it. I don't even have the energy left to yell.
"Well, could we get a recovery session now? Pushing past this point will only reduce efficiency. Ah, except for Kurapika, of course."
"Alright, alright. You two lie down. Cookie-chan will grant you a moment of bliss. Except Kurapika, naturally."
"This is how societal discord begins, slowly festering until it manifests as systematic discrimination. Unless this cycle of resentment is severed here and now, it will inevitably bring forth great calamity upon—"
"You clearly still have plenty of stamina left if you can ramble like that! Stop whining and maintain your Ken!"
"Incomprehensible."
I had grown completely accustomed to Kurapika's bizarre philosophical outbursts. Honestly, after living through this, anyone's mind would break a little.
Sigh. Time for another forced recovery. It was around 3:00 PM, meaning there would be another round of hole-digging before dinner. Sure, physical fatigue vanished, but what we desperately needed was mental rest.
"...Gon, you alive?"
"...Barely. You, Killua?"
"On the brink. I don't want to move a single muscle..."
"In thirty minutes, your body will move whether you want it to or not..."
Yep, exactly. Having your fatigue completely erased in thirty minutes sounded amazing on paper. There was a time when I thought so too.
"My, you two still have enough breath to chat? As expected of Gon and Killua! It looks like we can safely increase the tempo!"
...She's a demon. When it comes to training, this girl is an absolute demon.
If we improved a little, the training got harsher. If we adapted to that, it got harsher still. The ground felt significantly harder than when we started—she was definitely pumping more aura into it!
And because our bodies never broke down, the suffering was literally endless. Is this what eternal purgatory feels like?
"Everyone! Snacks are ready! Training is great, but why don't you take a little break?"
Mito-san's voice rang out from the kitchen door like a hymn of salvation.
"Thank you, Mito-san! We'll gladly take you up on that and pause training for snack time!" Aisha called back.
"Thank you, Mito-san!"
"Yahoo! Mito-san is literally an angel!"
"A buddha in hell—no, a true goddess."
"Ahaha, you're exaggerating! I made fresh custard pudding today, so make sure you wash your hands first!"
"Okaaay!"
Exaggerating? Not in the slightest! This was our temporary ticket out of hell! I was going to savor every single bite down to the molecular level!
"A 'goddess in hell,' huh? I wonder what that makes us?" Bisky mused with an amused smirk.
"Very well. If this is hell, I'll happily play the demon or devil if it makes them stronger. Fufufu," Aisha giggled softly.
Ah. So she didn't realize she was already a demon.
...This pudding might very well be our last meal on earth.
Gon and Kurapika walked back toward the house with hollow, ghostly expressions, clearly thinking the exact same thing. I probably looked like a walking corpse too.
...I was going to savor this pudding like my life depended on it.
"I thought you guys said you couldn't swallow a single bite?"
"Snacks are stored in a separate stomach!"
"Mito-san's pudding is exquisite. The fresh whipped cream on top is magnificent."
"Man, this really is delicious. But even with Cookie-chan's recovery, that deep muscle heaviness doesn't completely disappear, does it?"
"Indeed. That is because the muscle fibers have suffered microscopic tears from extreme exertion. While fatigue and aura are restored, physical tissue repair follows natural biological cycles," Kurapika explained.
"Cookie-chan isn't completely omnipotent, after all! Though she does accelerate natural healing quite a bit. Still, mmm! Sweets really are the best!" Bisky hummed happily.
That made sense. If it healed torn muscle fibers instantly, it might interfere with the supercompensation process that builds strength. From a purely physiological training perspective, her ability was flawlessly calibrated.
"Hey, Aisha. Is that plan for Greed Island really going to work?" Gon asked between spoonfuls.
"Yes. Since purchasing a copy ourselves is virtually impossible, this is the most reliable route."
Greed Island, huh.
Buying a game software that cost over ten billion Jenny at auction was completely out of the question for us. Several copies were slated to appear at the upcoming Southernpiece Auction in Yorknew City, but according to Aisha, a billionaire named Battera planned to sweep the floor and buy every single copy. At auction, the price could easily soar past tens of billions.
That was why Aisha suggested an alternative:
Pass the screening test held by Battera to hire capable Nen users to clear the game for him.
If someone bought multiple consoles of Greed Island, they would naturally need skilled players to enter the game. Recruiting Nen users was entirely logical. According to Bisky, Battera had already hosted several player screenings in previous years.
In fact, recruitment notices had already appeared on the Hunter exclusive website and specialized underground forums. Both Bisky and Aisha intended to participate in the screening in September.
"If your goal were to own the physical game, that would be another matter. But if you simply wish to play it, this method is guaranteed," Aisha noted.
"Yeah. I just want to play the game Ging made. I don't need to keep the cartridge," Gon agreed.
"Though that assumes you can pass the screening in the first place!" Bisky warned. "The judges will likely be veteran players who have already entered Greed Island. The passing criteria will depend on the game's difficulty. If I were the judge, the current versions of you two would fail instantly."
Right now, she said. Then the answer was simple.
"If we're not strong enough now, we'll just get stronger by then!" Gon declared.
"Exactly. Just wait and see—we'll surpass your standards in no time," I added.
Gon and I exchanged a grin. There was no way we were staying at this level. Tomorrow, we would be stronger than today. The day after tomorrow, stronger still. It was as simple as that.
"I like the positive attitude!" Bisky chuckled.
"Fufu. There's no need to phrase it so harshly, Bisky," Aisha smiled.
"Well, I wanted to tighten their focus, but it seems they didn't need the reminder."
Of course we didn't. We didn't come here with half-baked resolve. When your life is on the line, humans can endure almost anything. If Kurapika survived it, there was zero reason we couldn't!
"Though to ensure there isn't even a one-in-a-million chance of failure, I intend to structure the remaining training accordingly. We have less than two months left. Since Killua requested it, we shall proceed with an ultra-hardcore course that surpasses Kurapika's."
"RUN."
"Why in one-word broken Japanese?! Wait, so our training on Whale Island wasn't even the ultra-hardcore course?!"
Sure, she called it 'introductory,' but Kurapika survived four months of something worse than this? No wonder his personality cracked at the seams.
"Well, it was somewhat intense, but we haven't done nocturnal combat training yet, nor have we integrated Ken impact defense and Ryu shifting drills. Starting tonight, training continues during your sleep. I will launch surprise ambushes at random intervals, so do not let your guard down.
"Furthermore, Bisky will not provide recovery massages right before bed. Falling asleep while deeply fatigued is an essential part of conditioning. Learn to rest deeply while maintaining sensory vigilance.
"And of course, we must conduct live sparring. At the Kazama-ryu Dojo headquarters, you will spar against various experienced Nen practitioners. It will be invaluable combat experience.
"I also wanted to conduct individual category training, but time is too short. We can save that for inside Greed Island. Internal aura circulation drills are next, along with—"
"Mito-san, thank you for raising me all these years."
"Calm down, Gon. Mito-san is currently out grocery shopping."
"Let's see... the departure date and time for the next ferry off Whale Island is..."
"Get a grip, Killua! Didn't you swear you would surpass me?!" Kurapika shouted.
Surpassing you requires being ALIVE first!! That schedule sounds like 24/7/365 non-stop torture! Even my assassin family didn't train like that!!
"That really is an ultra-hardcore regimen," Bisky muttered, sweating slightly. "You're packing all of that in before September? ...If they die, that's not on my conscience, right?"
..."Hey! Say something!"
Why are the instructors already delegating legal liability?! More importantly, stop talking like our deaths are an assumed premise!!
"Don't worry! It is only until we reach Yorknew City in September! After that, we will return to a standard training pace!" Aisha smiled warmly.
"DON'T END THAT SENTENCE WITH A QUESTION MARK!!"And so, our supposed 'vacation' on Whale Island continued under the guise of an unspeakable ordeal.
...An unspeakable ordeal? Something about that phrasing tickled the back of my mind. What was it again...?
Late that night, after everyone had collapsed into an exhausted sleep from post-dinner drills, Aisha quietly erased her presence and sat up. The objective, naturally, was a nocturnal ambush.
Let's see... who should I target first?
The fact that all three boys shared a single guest room made sneaking in tricky, but space was limited in the house. Still, Gon and Killua were remarkable. Despite starting Nen training relatively recently, their growth rate was astonishing. Even with Bisky's support, talent like that was breathtaking. And more than talent, they put in the sweat to match.
At this rate, they would easily reach the benchmark required for the Greed Island screening by September. Even now, ordinary amateur Nen users wouldn't stand a chance against them.
...Hm? Bisky was sound asleep. Is this girl planning to dump all the night ambush duties on me? If she keeps slacking, maybe I should ambush Bisky instead.
As Aisha slipped down the hallway, she noticed a faint light in the living room. It was Mito-san, sitting at the low table with a glass.
"Mito-san? You're still awake?"
"Oh, Aisha-chan. What's the matter? Couldn't sleep?"
"No, I was actually on my way to ambush Gon and the others."
Mito-san had a small bottle of liquor beside her, clearly a little tipsy. Aisha gave an honest answer, but immediately wondered if that sounded bizarre to normal civilians.
"Ambush? Goodness, a young girl shouldn't be sneaking into boys' rooms in the middle of the night! You need to take better care of yourself!"
"Ah, no, it's just martial training..."
Aisha tried to slip away toward the bedroom, but Mito-san deftly stepped in front of her path.
She cut off my retreat! You truly cannot escape a tipsy adult...
"Sit, sit! Listen to your elders. Honestly, I don't know what happened to Gon. He used to be such an obedient, sweet boy... Well, he still is, but why did he have to get interested in becoming a Hunter...?"
"Isn't it because he admires his father?"
"Well, yes, but I never told him Ging was a Hunter! And yet somehow, he ended up chasing after him anyway... Why would anyone look up to someone like that?"
"Mito-san... you really care about Ging-san, don't you?"
"WHAT?! Me?! In love with Ging?! Why on earth would I—?!"
Mito-san flushed bright red and waved her hands frantically. Yet Aisha could sense the complex mix of emotions behind her words: irritation, loneliness, jealousy, but never true hatred. All of it stemmed from affection. The person she cared for had ventured into a world she couldn't follow, leaving behind a child named Gon.
"Loving someone like that only brings heartache! Listen to me, Aisha-chan: never fall for an irresponsible, reckless man like that! In the end, it's always the woman who gets left crying!"
Well, you basically just admitted you fell for him...
"Aisha-chan, you're a bit sheltered and careless about yourself. I'm worried some sweet-talking delinquent will take advantage of you!"
"E-Eh?! That won't happen, I assure you!"
I have zero intention of ending up with a man! I'm going to turn back into a guy and reclaim my youth! Once I'm back in my proper male body, all this gender confusion will vanish!
"It will happen! Look at you—you were eating dinner in just a thin camisole without a bra! Parading around like that in front of growing boys is like waving premium marbled beef in front of starving predators! You might be strong, but what if someone stronger than you attacks you?!"
Someone stronger than me? The only person who comes to mind is Chairman Netero... Netero attacking me romantically?! No, no, absolutely impossible. Though... that old man was quite a pervert in his youth.
"I understand. I'll be more mindful from now on."
"Good girl! You listen so well. Unlike Gon..."
"Gon is a wonderful boy, Mito-san. Far better than me."
Aisha meant it sincerely. Gon possessed a pure, unclouded heart. Once he trusted someone, his belief was absolute, yet he had an uncanny instinct for reading true intentions. His straightforward nature disarmed everyone around him. At times, that purity bordered on dangerous recklessness, like a younger brother you couldn't take your eyes off for a second.
"I know he's a good boy... But I can't help worrying. Wondering if he's badly hurt, if he's being tricked... No matter how far apart we are, all I can do is worry and wait."
"Mito-san... aside from worrying while waiting, there is something else you can do."
"Something else?"
"Believe in him while waiting."
"Believe in him... but isn't that still just waiting?"
"Yes. But if you must wait either way, believing in him is far more constructive. Gon may resemble Ging-san, but Gon is his own person. He came back to see you, didn't he? And besides... with Gon, worrying is essentially futile anyway."
Mito-san blinked, then burst into genuine laughter.
"Pfft—ahahaha! You're completely right! Worrying really is pointless with that boy. If I have to wait, I might as well believe in him. And as his family, I should be the first to remember that Gon is his own person, not a carbon copy of Ging."
The heavy air melted away into warm laughter.
"Thank you, Aisha-chan. I ended up dumping all my complaints on you."
"Not at all. I enjoyed hearing about Gon's childhood."
The two chatted late into the night about the Hunter Exam, Whale Island, and the past, until the moon dipped low.
In the end, Aisha didn't launch a single ambush that night, but she figured it was worth it.
After two weeks on Whale Island, the time arrived to depart for the Kazama-ryu Dojo Headquarters on the Yorbian continent.
During their stay, Aisha had verified the location of her biological mother's grave via the Hunter website. Mischa's resting place was located at the ancestral estate of the Causa Family, a prominent mafia syndicate situated near the city of Armstrum—just a short distance from the Kazama-ryu Dojo Headquarters.
When the time is right, I will visit Mother's grave. I want to tell her that I am living happily, surrounded by wonderful friends.
As for her mafia father... he undoubtedly believed the cursed infant had died in Meteor City. Meeting him would be complicated, but she knew that one day, she would have to face him.
"Goodbye, Mito-san! We're off!" Gon waved enthusiastically from the ferry deck.
"Come back anytime! This will always be your home!" Mito-san shouted back across the water.
The ship sailed toward the Yorbian continent.
"Next stop: Kazama-ryu Headquarters," Killua said, leaning against the railing. "I wonder what kind of fighters they have."
"Don't underestimate them," Bisky warned. "The Nen users stationed at headquarters are top-tier martial artists. Except for one particular individual, of course."
Aisha looked forward to seeing how much her past-life disciples and grand-disciples had grown over the past fourteen years.
"Well, at least Aisha didn't make us swim all the way to the Yorbian continent," Bisky joked.
"Of course not! What kind of monster do you take me for?"
Aisha overheard Gon, Killua, and Kurapika whispering nervously in the corner:
(I honestly thought she might tell us to swim...)
(Yeah. If she had, I was ready to hide on Whale Island.)
(Guys, surely Aisha wouldn't... right?)
Aisha sighed inwardly. Maybe I should ease up on their training just a little.
"Everyone, since we are traveling, let us declare today a rest day! Relax and enjoy the cruise."
Gon immediately pressed his hand to Aisha's forehead. "No fever!"
Kurapika grabbed her wrist. "Pulse is normal!"
Bisky scanned the horizon with Gyo. "No enemy Nen signatures nearby!"
Killua panicked. "Damn it! She's not even under enemy Manipulation?!"
"I AM GOING TO THROW YOU ALL OVERBOARD," Aisha snapped.
"Listen up!" Bisky shouted, dropping into battle stance. "I'll pin Aisha for ten seconds! Kurapika, bind her with chains! Gon and Killua, pincer attack high and low! Then I'll tackle her into the ocean! If we miss the timing by a split second... we die!"
"DAMN IT! WE HAVE NO CHOICE! FULL POWER!"
"I REFUSE TO DIE HERE! AISHA, PREPARE YOURSELF!"
"Wait, why did it turn into this?!" Gon yelled.
That's what I want to know! Aisha thought, readying her palms with a dry laugh.
...It was a miracle the ferry arrived at the Yorbian continent without sinking.