When I died, it was quiet. Peaceful. I was old, wrinkled, warm under the sun, breathing slowly on the porch of my little countryside home. No regrets. Life had been kind. I passed in my sleep, surrounded by the scent of lilacs and the distant hum of wind chimes. The world just… faded away.
And then I was screaming.
At least, I think I was. Everything was bright and cold, and I couldn't move. I felt hands on me, lifting me into the air. I saw strange faces above me, tired eyes, tears, smiles. My limbs were small, fragile. I was a baby.
It didn't take long to realize I had been reborn. Whether it was reincarnation or something stranger, I couldn't tell.
They called me Bob. Again. That was the first shock. Out of all the names in existence, the universe gave me back my old one. My parents seemed kind. They lived in a modest home made of stone and steel, tucked between grassy fields and worn roads. There was no TV, no computers, just a sturdy radio that crackled every night and a bookshelf stacked with yellowed paperbacks. but they loved me. That much was real.
The first few years were filled with discovery. I learned to walk, to speak, to read. Everything felt oddly familiar. The language was just like English, but the geography was all wrong. Cities I'd never heard of. Continents looked off. But nothing struck me as definitively otherworldly. For a while, I genuinely believed I had just been reborn into some obscure part of Earth. Maybe Eastern Europe? Or a rural island? My memories of the old world lingered.
And then came the magazine.
I was nine years old, sitting on the floor of an old barbershop. The place was filled with the scent of pomade and dust, and I was flipping through a stack of glossy, outdated magazines while waiting for my turn. My eyes skimmed past fashion ads and news articles, until I saw it.
"Top Ten Richest People of the Year."
My gaze narrowed. The cover featured an image of a tall man in a trench coat, standing atop a yacht. The headline boasted:
#10: Morel MacCarnathy – Double Star Treasure Hunter – Net Worth: 900 million Jenny.
My stomach dropped.
Hunter.
Not once, not twice, but eight out of ten names on that list were "Hunters." And they weren't subtle about it, either. "Beast Hunter," "Crime Hunter," "Archaeological Hunter," even one called "Eraser Hunter." The last two were tech moguls. My mouth went dry.
That single word detonated everything I thought I knew.
I slammed the magazine shut and stared at the ceiling, heart thudding like a war drum. 'This… this was the world of Hunter x Hunter. I was in the Hunter universe'. A place of Nen, Chimera Ants, Zoldycks, Heaven's Arena, Greed Island. The world where Killua, Gon, Hisoka, and the Phantom Troupe existed. Suddenly, everything I thought I understood melted away.
The bartender noticed my excitement. "You like that one, kid?"
I nodded dumbly.
"Hmph. Kids your age always go crazy when they hear about Hunters. Everyone wants to be one until they realize they might die getting the license."
Die? Yes. Of course. This wasn't some cartoon world. It was Hunter x Hunter. People died all the time. Innocents. Children. Even trained Hunters. The world was vast and strange, with power that could rewrite reality, Nen, the invisible force that made monsters of men and men of monsters.
But even knowing that…
I grinned.
I wanted it. I wanted it so bad.
Not for money. Not even for power. I wanted to live in this world. To see it. To breathe it. After living a long, slow life of quiet peace, this felt like the second chance I never knew I wanted. My heart burned with something I hadn't felt in decades: dreams.
For the next few weeks, I was consumed. I asked everyone about the Hunter Exam, casually at first, then directly. Most adults waved me off, saying it was something "for the rich or the lucky," but I kept pushing. I learned that the Hunter Association was real. That the Exam happened yearly and this year was the 276th exam, but the locations changed. Only a few hundred applicants ever made it in, and fewer still passed.
I needed to prepare.
I started training my body the very next day. Push-ups. Sit-ups. Running every morning. At first, I could barely do ten of anything. But I had time. I was only nine and i have 11 years till the 287th exam. If I worked every day and plan how to do the exam, with a little luck maybe i can pass it.
And become a True Hunter.
[Author: hi guys, i am back for more fun time, and this hunterxhunter is based on the 2011 anime, and i know it's a little different form the manga, but most people watch the anime, i hope you don't mind.]