One kilometer from the beached cruise ship. Ten minutes earlier.
Two men in black suits beat the hell out of each other in the darkness.
The ground around them was cratered. Scorched. One of them collapsed to his knees, ribs shattered, coughing blood that looked black in the moonlight.
"Impossible..." Blood dripped from his mouth. "You're... empty. How do you still have aura—"
The other man raised a pistol. His face was concrete. "Why would I explain my Hatsu to a corpse?"
BANG.
The kneeling man's forehead exploded. He toppled backward, dead before he hit the dirt.
Musse waited. Watched the body for resentful post-mortem Nen—the kind that turned corpses into murder weapons. Nothing happened.
Good.
He holstered the pistol. Approached the body. "You asked how I still had aura? Simple. I recalled my Nen beast. The one I released at the start of the fight. The one you never noticed."
Manipulation users had a rule: always manipulate yourself first.
Musse's Hatsu—Secret Window—manifested three bird-shaped Nen beasts. Touch a target, attach a bird, see through its eyes. Remote surveillance. Intelligence gathering.
One of those birds lived on him at all times. Attached to his own body. A preemptive self-manipulation that blocked other Manipulators from controlling him.
That extra reserve of aura—recycled from the bird when he needed it—had won the fight.
"Enhancement types," Musse muttered, rifling through the dead man's pockets. "All muscle. No brain."
His fingers found a card. Business-card sized. Heavy stock. The Hunter Association logo embossed in gold.
Hunter License.
Access to 90% of restricted countries. 75% of special zones. Free use of public facilities worldwide. Corporate-level financing. All the perks of institutionalized power.
Musse sneered at it.
Nen users don't need permission slips. A competent Nen user could go anywhere, do anything. The license was just the Hunter Association's way of registering dangerous people. Giving them benefits in exchange for accountability. Backed by the five superpowers—V5—who wanted to know where all the walking nukes were at any given time.
"You were just hired muscle." Musse closed the hunter's eyes. "She wasn't worth dying for."
He pocketed the license. Stood. "But I respect the commitment."
He turned toward the initial battlefield. The woman and her bastard child had to be confirmed dead. Orders were orders.
Musse's aura reserves were depleted—converted back into the bird-form Nen beast attached to his body. His left eye widened involuntarily while his right eye stayed normal. The telltale sign of Secret Window active on himself.
But even exhausted, Musse was a professional. He crossed the wilderness at double-time, ignoring the protest of muscles and fractured bones.
He reached the tall grass. Stopped.
When did that grow there?
The grass cluster stood like a monument on flat ground. Unnatural. Wrong.
Musse circled it. Hand on his pistol. Two bullets left.
More than enough for a woman and a baby.
After a tense minute of finding nothing, he pushed through the grass with his gun barrel.
Bodies. Stacked like cordwood. His team. The woman's bodyguards. Everyone dead.
He found the woman. Gray trench coat. Stiff hands still clutching—
Empty swaddling.
No baby.
Musse searched every corpse twice. The child had vanished like smoke.
Someone took him. Had to.
He emerged from the grass. Looked toward the island's interior. Toward the beach where the woman's cruise ship should be docked.
First: treat his injuries. Eat. Rest. Recover aura.
Second: report to the prince.
Third: find the bastard child and finish the job.
Musse pulled out a burner phone. Walked toward the ship while dialing.
The voice on the other end was glacial authority. "...The woman and her mongrel son have defiled the royal bloodline. They must be eradicated. All of them. If necessary, reveal your identity. If extradition becomes an issue, I will negotiate with the Ochima Federation personally."
"Understood, Your Highness."
The call ended. Musse pocketed the phone. Looked up at the cruise ship silhouetted against moonlight.
He scaled the rocks. Landed on the deck. Entered the cabin.
Click.
His boot came down on something. He froze.
Stepped back. His left eye—permanently in Gyo thanks to the Nen beast—examined the object.
A branch. Fresh. Leaves still green.
Someone's been here recently.
Musse drew his pistol. Checked the magazine. Two bullets.
Enough.
He crept through the corridor. Gyo-enhanced vision picked out details in the darkness: snack wrappers scattered on the floor, biscuit crumbs, an empty cake box, blood smears, an empty cup.
And the branch—
Water Divination.
Someone had tested their Nen type here. Recently.
At least one Nen user in this cabin. Right now.
Musse turned a corner.
Movement. End of the hallway. Behind a cardboard box near a doorway. Someone hiding.
"Come out." Musse's voice was dead calm. Gun raised. "Now."
He approached. Nerves singing. About to circle the box—
WHAM.
Instinct saved him. Musse rolled. Something massive and glowing filled the space where his head had been.
A tiger. Blue fur. Luminous stripes. Sapphire markings on its forehead.
Misery Moon Tiger. Rare. Dangerous.
Musse fired.
The bullet caught the tiger's eye. Blood sprayed. The trajectory went wide—dammit, should've used both bullets—and the beast kept coming.
Seven hundred kilograms of muscle and fury slammed Musse into the floor. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs. The tiger's weight pinned him like a bug under glass.
Need to recall the bird. Get my aura back—
The figure behind the box moved.
Lunged.
Slapped a bloody palm against Musse's left temple.
Musse saw him clearly for the first time. A kid. Five years old. Maybe less.
The boy's palm pressed down. A pentagram drawn in blood transferred to Musse's skin.
White light pulsed.
Nothing happened.
"Eh?" The kid looked surprised.
He's Manipulation type too!
Understanding hit them both simultaneously.
Musse's preemptive self-manipulation blocked the attack. The kid's ability failed because the target was already controlled.
The tiger roared. Increased pressure. Musse's ribs creaked. The beast's jaws opened. Teeth like daggers descended toward his face—
Dispel the bird. Get the aura. Throw off the tiger. Shoot the kid. Survive.
Or:
Keep the bird. Stay protected. Die to the tiger.
No choice. No time.
Musse dismissed Secret Window.
Aura flooded back. Not much. But enough.
His muscles surged with renewed strength. He shoved against the tiger—
BANG.
The kid flew backward. Hit the doorframe. Blood sprayed from his neck in arterial jets.
Got him.
The boy clutched his throat. Slid down the wall. Eyes rolling back.
"Just a kid after all." Musse grinned through pain. Shoved harder against the tiger.
He didn't notice the door across the hall. The one that opened silently. The crack of darkness. The pair of green eyes glowing inside.
Sucker.
Fenrir watched through the gap. Watched Musse dismiss his Nen beast. Watched the man's left eye return to normal.
The blood-pentagram on Musse's temple flared white.
Rose-gold star burned into existence.
Successful manipulation.