Hunter X Hunter : The Boundary

Chapter 27: Departure

After leaving the 26th-floor training hall, Ryan didn't descend the tower. He told no one about the Water Divination test or that Wing had identified his predisposition for Conjuration.

He kept Wing's words locked in his mind: "If you can't even control your Nen, don't talk about mastering it. First, stabilize your Ten and Zetsu. Nen is a blade, but the blade is in your mind, not in your hand."

Every night, he sat alone in an empty training room, practicing. No light, no movement. He explored the pathways of his aura, constructing a sensory map of his Nen within his own body— but during the day, he continued to fight.

He fought his way from the 27th floor to the 100th, maintaining his signature style: precise, calm, and utterly in control. 

No one could tell if he was stronger than his opponents— they only knew that he won, every single time. His fights weren't spectacular, but he dismantled his opponents with technique one after the other, leaving them with no room to retaliate.

"He doesn't fight to win in the conventional sense." a spectator once remarked. "However, the brat is skilled. You won't even realize you've been seen through before he's already laid out your defeat."

By the 100th floor, the Heavens Arena had given him an exclusive living area. He didn't apply for higher-level matches. He knew the 200th floor was another threshold, one that couldn't be crossed with just fists and feet. He wasn't ready. He wasn't in a hurry.

In total, he fought eleven battles and won them all, earning 3.24 million Jenny. He quietly transferred two million to his family's account, the memo simply stating: "For emergency use." The rest he converted into cash.

One morning, a message appeared on the public bulletin board:

[The annual Hunter Qualification Exam will commence on January 7th. Gathering location: Zaban City, East Ring Line, B3. Time: 05:00.]

He recognized the format. It was an instruction for those who had registered for the Hunter Exam. No restrictions exist on who can take the exam, regardless of age, background, or criminal record.

Even the devil himself could take the exam and pass, as long as the examiner says it's okay. However, if the applicant is underage, the signature of a parent or guardian is required on the application card.

He walked back to his room and opened his old travel bag. Inside was the gear he had accumulated over years: a modified alloy slingshot, two lightweight daggers, a water purifier, and his notebook. He closed the bag— it was time to go home.

The moment he slid the key into the lock, he heard the kettle on the stove. His mother peeked out from the kitchen. "...You're back?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"I came back to get some things," Ryan said, placing his bag by the door.

"And to say goodbye."

She simply nodded. Dinner was always familiar atmosphere between them. Afterward, he went to his room to organize his gear, checking every seam and buckle. He wrote out his travel plan on a fresh page: transportation routes, accommodation budgets, and funds.

He found his mother washing dishes. "I'm leaving early tomorrow morning," he said. "You don't need to see me off."

Her hands paused. She turned, her gaze complex. "You don't tell us where you're going, what you're doing... you just decide everything yourself." Her tone was calm, but her voice was thick with emotion.

"You're not a child anymore." She took a deep breath. "I know stopping you is useless. It's just... don't be like your father, keeping everything locked away in your heart."

He was silent for a moment. "This is the path I chose. "I won't disappoint you."

Her eyes reddened, but she didn't cry. "I know— but you're still human. You don't have to bear everything alone."

Her words were like needles, prickling guilt into his heart— but he can't turn back now. He didn't respond. Late that night, he taped Wing's Nen advice to his bedside, looked at it one last time, and then put it away.

At 5:00 AM, the city was still asleep. He put on his jacket, slung on his bag, and picked up his old slingshot— as he reached the alley, a voice called out from behind. "Ryan!"

His mother stood at the doorway, wrapped in a thick coat against the cold. "What your dad couldn't say, I'll say for him," she said, her voice hoarse.

"Come visit us anytime."

Ryan nodded gently, voice quiet but clear as steel. "I promise you. I will return whole."

Then he turned and walked toward Zaban City. There was no ceremony, no tears.

Only his determined footsteps and the silent vow in his heart:

I will become a Hunter.