Hunter X Hunter : The Boundary

Chapter 16: Before the Threshold

In March, Tower City's lingering chill polished the paving stones to a shine. Ryan sat on the fourth floor of the municipal library, a well-worn book open before him: "Old City Hunter Gazette."

The paper was yellowed and curled, but the content was electric. For the first time, he was reading about real Hunter missions. Teams that walked into traps in ancient ruins. Teams that suffered heavy casualties from misjudging an opponent.1

And teams that, despite being hopelessly outmatched, managed to escape through sheer luck and precise judgment.

Every case wasn't about winning beautifully. It was about surviving. That was the lesson he needed to learn.

Ever since the robbery at the hardware store, a shadow of doubt had lingered in his mind. What if there had been no lime powder? What if the opponent had a knife? What if... it had been a Nen-user? He wasn't lacking confidence; he was brutally clear-headed. Power alone cannot account for the unknown— but strategy can.

He added a new routine to his day: Case Analysis & Deduction. Every evening, he filtered through the public Hunter database, city newspapers, and library archives, deconstructing real-world events.

Mission No.: HX-019. Type: Ruin Investigation.

Reason for Failure: Team lost their way after failing to set guide markers.

Reflection: Must establish anchors during any operation to allow for rapid reorientation.

Mission No.: UR-103. Type: Urban Interception.

Method of Success: Hunter used cement pipes in an abandoned building to create misleading sound cues, luring the target into a trap.

Tactical Key: When outmatched, misleading the enemy's path and creating false spatial information is paramount.

He drew diagrams, modeling enemy behavior patterns. He established a personal rule: Assess the enemy in three seconds; formulate a strategy in five.

"You're eleven now," his mother said one night, finding him hunched over his notes. "Shouldn't you play more?"

He didn't look up. "I'm reading a story."

"What kind of story makes you write so much?"

"About... how to win," he said, and a soft, dry chuckle escaped his lips.

His mother froze, her expression complex, and quietly left him to his work. That night, he wrote a new maxim in his journal: Wisdom allows one to traverse the unknown— a Nen ability without the wisdom to wield it was just a bullet that could never be fired.

Dusk settled. Ryan stood in his training grounds. Tonight's training was different. He opened his notebook and wrote the day's objective: "Counter-attack and evasion."

He set up five cardboard cutouts, each numbered to represent a different enemy archetype from his notes. Then, he did something he had never done before. He closed his eyes and, for five seconds, visualized with all his might that these were not dummies.

They were real.

He tossed a small piece of iron to the ground. Clang. The start signal.

He moved.

Step one: A horizontal roll, low to the ground, evading the charge.

Step two: A pre-placed mirror shardw, used to flash light into the blind spot of an enemy, grasping their location.

Step three: A retreat through a narrow tire rack, creating space and slowing their advance.

Step four: A deliberate sound to lure an enemy into an attack, exposing their position for a counter.

Step five: Five seconds of absolute stillness in a cramped corner, simulating the extreme mental endurance required to hide.

Each step was executed in under three seconds. His mind raced, a constant, high-speed calculation of angles, timing, and prediction. When it was over, he lay prone behind a log, sweat soaking through his shirt, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

He closed his eyes and entered meditation, not for relaxation, but to anchor the residual sensations of his actions.

And in that moment, he felt it.

From his lower abdomen, a wisp of warmth, like a ripple in still water, slowly began to spread. It had no weight, no direction. It was just a streamline, seeping from his core outward. And then—it began to rotate.

It wasn't fast or violent— but it was undeniably there. A slow current, circling his spine, his shoulders, his elbows, his fingers, his knees, his ankles... before finally returning to his chest.

Ryan did not open his eyes. He just felt it, silently. This was aura. He finally understood. "Nen" wasn't an external force. It was born from within. It was the world finally looking back at you, after you had looked at it so deeply, for so long.

When his meditation ended, it was deep night. He stood up and wrote a final entry.

· Mandatory Post-Combat Meditation.

· Achieve Ten

· Begin a theoretical study of Ten, Zetsu, In, and Gyo.

He paused for a long time after writing, the moonlight illuminating a single line of text.

The world of Nen is way too fun!