Rock hovered in the air, his heart pounding from the sudden scare. He stared down at Kevin with a mixture of wariness and disbelief.
"You want to... give it back?" Rock's voice carried obvious suspicion. "Why would you do that?"
Kevin held up the 95-point tag, letting it catch the light filtering through the canopy. "Because points aren't everything. Not at this stage."
He tossed the tag lightly. Rock caught it reflexively, staring at the glowing number in his hand as if it might bite him.
"I don't understand," Rock admitted. "You defeated me fairly. The points are yours. That's how this exam works."
"This exam, yes. But the exam isn't the only thing happening here." Kevin leaned against a tree, arms crossed. "Tell me something, Rock. What happens after you get your Hunter license?"
Rock blinked at the sudden shift. "After? I... I don't know. Travel, I suppose. Take on interesting jobs. The usual."
"And when you run into other Hunters on those jobs—will you compete with them? Fight them for every scrap?"
"Well, no, not if we're on the same—" Rock stopped. Understanding dawned slowly. "You're thinking long-term."
"I'm always thinking long-term." Kevin pushed off the tree. "You have a unique and powerful Nen ability. More importantly, you have the patience to track, the intelligence to plan, and the honesty to admit when you've been beaten. Those are rare qualities."
He gestured at the forest around them. "This exam will end in a few days. The eight who advance will become Hunters—if they pass the final phase. But becoming a Hunter isn't the end. It's the beginning. And the people you know on that first day matter more than the points you had on some island."
Rock descended slowly, landing a cautious distance away. "You're building a network. A team."
"A forge." Kevin smiled at Rock's confused expression. "Long story. But yes—I'm gathering people. People with skills, with potential, with the right mindset. People who can work together, cover each other's weaknesses, achieve things none of us could alone."
He extended his hand again, the third time in their brief acquaintance. "I want you in that forge, Rock. Not as a subordinate—as a partner. Your eyes in the sky, your drones watching our backs, your mind helping us plan. In return, you get allies who will do the same for you."
Rock stared at the offered hand. The 95-point tag glowed in his other hand, a symbol of defeat transformed into an invitation.
"You're insane," he said finally. "You know that?"
"So I've been told."
A long pause. Then Rock laughed—a genuine laugh, surprised out of him. He reached out and clasped Kevin's forearm.
"Fine. I'm in. But if this 'forge' of yours turns out to be some kind of cult, I'm flying away and never coming back."
"Fair enough." Kevin grinned. "Now, let's go find my teammates before Bajiao manages to spear himself."
They moved into the forest together, the reconnaissance drone rising silently above them, its cameras scanning for threats and opportunities alike.
The forge was growing.
Rock's eyes widened as he scanned the list. His gaze moved line by line, each entry more impressive than the last. By the time he reached the bottom, his hands were trembling slightly.
"This is... you made all of these?"
"Those are just the ones I'm willing to sell publicly." Kevin's tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp, watching Rock's reaction. "The higher-grade potions require rarer materials and more specific applications. Those I reserve for special clients or trade."
Rock looked up, his expression a mixture of awe and calculation. "A Healing Potion that works on external wounds in minutes. A Bone Setting Potion that heals fractures during its duration. Do you understand what these would mean to professional hunters? To anyone who works in dangerous environments?"
"I have some idea."
"Some idea." Rock laughed, shaking his head. "Kevin, these aren't just useful. They're revolutionary. People would kill for access to these."
"Which is why I'm careful about who I share them with." Kevin stepped closer. "You asked what I can provide. This is it. Access to a supply of potions that can heal, protect, and enhance. In exchange, I need someone with eyes in the sky. Someone who can find things—people, materials, dangers—before they find me."
Rock was silent for a long moment, processing. Then he looked at the list again, reading carefully.
"The Truth Serum," he said slowly. "Two hundred fifty thousand. That's... almost suspiciously cheap."
"Bulk ingredient availability. The materials for that one are common. I can produce it in quantity without much cost." Kevin shrugged. "The Healing Potion is more expensive because the ingredients are rarer and the process takes longer. But for someone who brings me materials, the price drops significantly."
Rock's eyes narrowed. "So if I find you, say, the ingredients for a Healing Potion—"
"I'll brew it for you at cost. Or trade you two for one, depending on the materials."
A slow smile spread across Rock's face. "You're building an economy. Potions for materials, materials for potions. With yourself at the center."
"Someone has to be the center. Might as well be someone who shares."
Rock folded the list carefully and tucked it into his pocket. "Alright. You have my interest. But I need proof—real proof, not just a piece of paper. Show me what one of these can do."
Kevin reached into his pack and withdrew a small vial of pale blue liquid—the same he'd used against Rock earlier. "This is a temporary physical enhancement potion. Doubles strength and speed for about three minutes, followed by an hour of fatigue. Not for sale—too dangerous in the wrong hands—but I'll demonstrate."
He looked around, then pointed at a fallen log the size of a small car. "Watch."
Kevin drank. The effect was immediate—his aura flared, muscles tensed, and he strode to the log. One punch shattered it into kindling.
Rock stared at the scattered debris, then at Kevin, who was already beginning to show signs of the fatigue—slightly heavy breathing, a faint tremor in his hands.
"That was... three minutes?"
"Forty-five seconds, actually. The effect is proportional to the dose." Kevin straightened, steadying himself. "Now you understand why I don't sell that one. Too easy to abuse."
Rock nodded slowly. "I understand." He extended his hand. "You have a deal, Kevin. I'll be your eyes in the sky. And when I find something worth finding, we'll talk about payment."
They shook, the agreement sealed.
Above, the reconnaissance drone hummed softly, its cameras recording everything. Below, two hunters began to move through the forest—one on the ground, one in the air—searching for prey, for points, and for the future they were building together.
The forge had gained a new member. And on an island full of hunters, the hunters had just become much more dangerous.
Kevin stood over the unconscious Iter for a moment, considering. The man's injuries from the previous phase were evident—hastily bandaged wounds, the way he favored one leg even while unconscious. He wouldn't last long on the island like this, especially now that his points were gone.
With a slight sigh, Kevin reached into his pack and withdrew a small vial—a basic healing potion, D-grade, worth a few million jenny on the open market. He knelt and poured half of it over Iter's visible wounds, then placed the remaining half beside the unconscious man where he'd find it when he woke.
"Consider it a parting gift," Kevin murmured. "Next time, hide better."
He melted back into the forest, his newly acquired 75-point tag joining the glowing constellation on his chest. The tags had a strange property—they didn't overlap or obscure each other, just accumulated like layers of light. Anyone seeing him now would know instantly that he was carrying over 300 points.
That's going to make hunting harder, he thought. But also more tempting for the desperate.
Above, Rock's reconnaissance drones hummed silently, their cameras feeding him a constant stream of information. Kevin touched the earpiece Rock had provided—another piece of materialized equipment, limited range but functional.
"Anything interesting?" Kevin subvocalized.
"Three possibles," Rock's voice crackled back. "One at two o'clock, about eight hundred meters, moving slowly—looks injured. One at ten o'clock, one-point-two klicks, stationary—might be setting an ambush. And one at six o'clock, about five hundred meters, heading away from you fast—probably heard something."
Kevin considered. "The injured one first. Easier points, and if we're lucky, they'll have a decent score."
"Moving to track. I'll guide you in."
Kevin adjusted direction and moved, his footsteps silent on the forest floor. The Nen suppression he maintained made him nearly invisible to casual observation, but the glowing tags were a problem—they couldn't be hidden, couldn't be suppressed. Anyone with line of sight would know exactly where he was and roughly how valuable he was.
Trade-offs, he thought. The exam is full of them.
The injured examinee came into view through the trees—a woman in her thirties, lean and athletic despite the obvious wound on her side. Her tag glowed at 80 points. She moved cautiously, checking her surroundings constantly, but her injury slowed her reactions.
Kevin waited until she passed his position, then struck.
One precise blow to the back of the head, careful not to cause permanent damage. She crumpled instantly. Kevin caught her, lowered her gently to the ground, and removed her tag.
Another 80 points. His total was climbing.
He checked her wound—a deep gash, probably from a beast earlier. Infected, by the look of it. Without treatment, she wouldn't last the three days.
Another vial from his pack, another half-dose applied. He left the rest beside her, same as Iter.
"Taking care of the competition?" Rock's voice held a note of amusement.
"Keeping my conscience clear." Kevin stood. "Next target?"
"The stationary one. Looks like an ambush—they've set up in a clearing with good sightlines. Probably waiting for someone to walk into their trap."
"Then let's not walk into it." Kevin smiled. "Guide me to a position where I can observe without being seen. We'll turn their trap into ours."
"Now you're thinking like a hunter."
Kevin moved, guided by Rock's unseen eyes, toward the next confrontation. The island held secrets, dangers, and opportunities—and he intended to harvest them all.
Three hundred sixty points now. The top eight would need at least two-fifty, maybe three hundred depending on how many beasts got hunted.
He was ahead of the curve. But the exam wasn't over. And on this island, nothing was certain until the final moment.
Rock stood in silence for a long moment, processing Kevin's words. The night forest surrounded them, alive with the sounds of creatures beginning their nocturnal activities. Somewhere in the darkness, other examinees were hiding, hunting, or simply trying to survive.
"I never thought of it that way," Rock admitted finally. "I've always treated my ability as... fixed. Something I built and now have to work within."
"That's a common mistake." Kevin settled against a tree, keeping his voice low. "Nen is living energy. It grows with you, changes with you. The ability you create at the beginning is just a starting point—a seed. The tree that grows from it depends on how you nurture it."
Rock frowned. "But I've heard that reconstructing a Nen ability is dangerous. That you can damage yourself trying to change what you've already built."
"Reconstructing, yes. That's different from strengthening." Kevin held up a hand, forming a small ball of aura in his palm. "Think of your ability as a tool. A knife, say. When you first make it, it's functional—it cuts. But over time, you can sharpen it, refine the edge, improve the handle. You're not making a new knife; you're improving the one you have."
The aura ball shifted, becoming a small blade. "The same principle applies. Your drone's range? That's a function of your aura output and control. Train those, and the range extends. Your control precision? Same thing. The base ability stays the same, but everything about how it performs can improve."
Rock watched the demonstration, his expression thoughtful. "And the limitations? The fact that I can only control two drones at once?"
"That's trickier. Some limitations are fundamental to the ability's design—they're part of the 'contract' you made with yourself when you created it. But even those can sometimes be stretched." Kevin dispersed the aura blade. "The key is training. Not just your body, but your Nen. Your will. Every time you push your limits in training, you're telling your ability: 'This is what I can do now. Adapt.'"
The forest creaked around them. In the distance, something large moved through the undergrowth.
Rock was quiet for a long time. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.
"I've been an idiot," he said. "All this time, I thought I'd reached my limit. That my ability was what it was and I just had to work around its flaws." He laughed softly. "Meanwhile, you're out here treating Nen like a living thing that grows with you."
"It is a living thing. It's your life energy, channeled through your will." Kevin pushed off the tree. "That's why people with strong emotions often have powerful Nen—their will is focused, intense. But that intensity can also trap them, lock their ability into a single form. The trick is to stay flexible. Keep growing. Never stop training."
Rock nodded slowly, then looked at Kevin with new respect. "You know a lot about this. More than someone who just stumbled into it."
"I've had good teachers." Kevin thought of Bisky, of Ging, of all the people who had helped him understand this strange power. "And I've made it my business to learn. In my line of work, knowledge is survival."
They stood together in the darkness, two hunters with very different paths, now linked by circumstance and choice.
"So," Rock said after a moment, "tonight. My scouting is limited. What's the plan?"
"We rest. Conserve energy. Let the others tire themselves out hunting in the dark." Kevin settled back against his tree, closing his eyes. "First light, we resume. By then, some of the desperate ones will have made mistakes. We'll be there to capitalize."
"And your teammates? The ones with the spear gun?"
"If they're smart, they're doing the same thing—finding a safe spot and waiting out the night. Bajiao's loud, but he's not stupid. And Kate..." Kevin smiled in the darkness. "Kate's been surviving longer than most of us have been alive. He'll be fine."
The night deepened. Around them, the island settled into its nocturnal rhythm—predators hunting, prey hiding, and somewhere, twenty-some examineers doing the same.
Rock climbed a nearby tree, positioning himself in a fork where he could sleep lightly but remain hidden. His drones retracted, their energy conserved for the morning.
Kevin remained below, his back against the trunk, his senses extended in a light En that would warn him of any approach. The 300-plus points on his chest glowed softly, a beacon in the darkness—but anyone who approached that beacon would find a very unpleasant surprise.
The first day of the third phase ended. Two more to go.
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