In the Numere Wetland, a young man lay on the grass.
Zhang Linqin squinted, seeing nothing but an impenetrable fog that obscured the sky.
From within the fog came chilling screams, sometimes distant, sometimes near.
Screeching sirens echoed in his ears, yet it was as if they had never appeared, leaving only a white expanse before him.
Pain emanated from all over his body, throbbing rhythmically, he didn't know if he'd been hit by a car or beaten up.
After many years of work, this kind of physical stimulation was a first, perhaps it wouldn't be bad to experience it once in a while... he thought jokingly.
Struggling to his feet, Zhang Linqin looked around, suspecting he was hallucinating.
On the seemingly peaceful grass lay several corpses, close together, as if their throats had been slit simultaneously.
A strong scent of blood continuously emanated from them, its pungent odor almost overpowering the earthy smell peculiar to the grassland.
Where is this?
His long-rusted brain finally started working again, bringing with it waves of sharp pain.
Zhang Linqin held his breath, fearing he would be next.
This isn't a hallucination, this is reality!
Memories, like flickering specks of light, suddenly surfaced from the depths of his mind.
Amidst the dazzling chaos, the intense stimulation even suppressed the pain in his body.
Zhang Linqin, also known as Ringo Messiah, was 14 years old, an ordinary resident in a corner of Yorknew City.
His appearance and build were unremarkable, but his vengeful nature was exceptionally prominent.
This was the Numere Wetland in 1999, an essential path to the second Hunter exam site.
Thick fog enveloped the area, making visibility extremely low.
It was home to deceptive creatures like the Hoodwink Crow, Lazy Frog, and Landmine Mushroom, earning it the name 'The Trickster's Nest.'
This was the world of Hunter!
Rare beasts, exotic creatures; riches, treasures; demon realms, secret domains; unknown things made many yearn for them.
Furthermore, there was the existence of Nen Ability, based on life energy, which, through imagination and arduous training, could manipulate reality and turn the impossible into possible.
"I thought being reborn as a child in a new life would be easier," Zhang Linqin couldn't help but sigh.
His memories of his previous life were vague, leaving only work, working every day, the silhouette of daily labor like smoke from a factory chimney, ethereal and elusive.
"When... did I transmigrate?"
He couldn't help but rub his forehead, striving to piece together fragmented clues, and quickly recalled the latest situation.
The original owner's mother was a distant relative of the Messiah gang family, and his father had also been a gang enforcer for Messiah.
These people committed all sorts of evil deeds, burning, killing, and looting, even discarding their own without hesitation.
A year ago, Ringo's father became a sacrificial pawn in a territorial dispute.
Afterward, Ringo, relying on his decent physique, desperately signed up for the Hunter exam, number 369.
He collapsed from exhaustion during the 3-hour long run in the first stage but unexpectedly made it to the Numere Wetland.
Not long ago, he encountered the 'eager-to-teach' Hisoka.
He was a self-centered pervert, with vertical red hair and distinctive makeup, acting as an examiner during the test, but in reality, he was sifting out unqualified toys in his eyes.
More than a dozen contestants lost their lives.
Fear erupted among the surrounding candidates; some turned to flee.
The next second, the sharp whistle of a playing card tearing through the air slit the throat of the fleeing person.
Hisoka's figure flickered, and in the blink of an eye, only two people remained on the grass.
Ringo's weak resistance led to the same outcome—his throat precisely cut by a playing card, the whole process so fast he had no time to react.
Warm blood filled his windpipe, and he gasped like a broken bellows, futilely trying to prop himself up.
"Hmm?"
That was the last sound he heard, then darkness consumed his entire vision.
Recalling this, Zhang Linqin's heart skipped a beat.
He laboriously raised his hand, his fingertips reaching for his throat.
A cold sensation, a playing card deeply embedded there!
"What's going on?" He endured the sharp pain and gently pulled, and the playing card was actually extracted, but only a broken corner remained.
Most of the card face seemed to have been eroded by the contact surface.
The muscles of the wound seemed to be wriggling, and no more blood was flowing out around it.
He couldn't see this position himself at all.
How am I still alive... Zhang Linqin breathed softly, seemingly unaffected by the wound.
He frantically recalled Ringo's memories, but in the past, he was just an ordinary person and couldn't see Nen at all.
Could it be Post-Mortem Nen!
When one dies with an extremely strong unfulfilled wish, Nen will be preserved by death's influence and its intensity will multiply.
"Is it Ringo? He might really be dead, otherwise how would I have the chance to transmigrate into this body, but Ringo was an ordinary person, can a non-ability user produce Post-Mortem Nen?"
A chill crept up his spine.
The Numere Wetland was not a place to linger; such a strong scent of blood would attract who knows what creatures.
He raised his hands again, concentrating intently, hoping to find something.
In a daze, there seemed to be a layer of weightless gauze covering his body, or like vapor rising from his body, slowly dissipating.
"Is this life energy my aura?"
Aura is the source, that is, surging vitality.
The ability to manipulate it is Nen.
With Nen Ability, one can touch unimaginable power, at least, have more capital to protect oneself in this world.
If one can become a Hunter, food and shelter will no longer be a luxury.
Zhang Linqin couldn't help but feel a hint of joy at having survived, but in an instant, a wave of dizziness struck him.
It's not just excessive blood loss, there's also 【Ten】.
If he couldn't master this most basic ability, firmly locking his aura to his body's surface, his life energy would flow away irreversibly like sand in an hourglass, eventually leaving him completely drained.
In this dangerous place, it was undoubtedly like standing naked in an icy wasteland!
"What should I do?"
Watching his aura dissipate, Zhang Linqin's small joy wavered, and worry and anxiety surged from his heart like a flood.
"This is my aura, I can control it."
Another gasp came from afar, this time closer.
He gritted his teeth, sat cross-legged among the corpses like an old monk in meditation, unmoving, his twitching brows betraying his still unsettled mind.
Without Nen Ability, he would be unable to move forward, and in the Numere Wetland, his life would even be in danger.
Was he going to die again just after transmigrating?
The physical weakness and the sensation of life force draining away impacted his consciousness like cold tides, wave after wave.
From afar, it looked as if a straw descended from the horizon, piercing straight into his head, sucking away his life force.
Now I am Ringo, I should be able to keep my aura on my body!
Ringo closed his eyes, casting aside distracting thoughts, imagining countless invisible small hands growing beneath every inch of his skin.
They pulled back the dissipating aura, like pulling a blanket in a bone-chilling night.
In his previous life, he had read many comics, among which his favorites were Hunter and Hitori no Shita.
He was obsessed with their intricate plots and imaginative mysterious abilities, and had fantasized and analyzed various supernatural theories.
This coveted power was right before him, how could he easily let go?
His consciousness, like an invisible net, struggled to cast itself towards the fleeing aura, but it was too weak.
The aura flowed like sand, and the rate of life energy loss did not slow down at all.
Just as his consciousness began to blur—
Buzz!
An indescribable tremor, as if from the deepest part of his soul, suddenly erupted.
It wasn't a system prompt, but more like a fundamental awakening.
Eight incredibly profound and complex light spheres, each radiating a different glow, instantly appeared in the depths of his mental vision!
They varied in form: some twisted, some heavy, some agile, some ethereal...
A vast torrent of knowledge, along with the appearance of the light spheres, violently poured into his mind!
Spirit Snatcher!
Windy Gate!
Divine Craftsmanship!
Shuang Quan Shou (Ambidextrous)!
Primordial Qi!
All Heavens Talisman!
Gokukusenzoku!
Great Luo Insight!
Eight Wonders?!
Ringo was stunned.
These were clearly skills from Hitori no Shita, how could they appear in his mind?
There was no time to ponder the origin; the instinct for survival overwhelmed everything.
The knowledge of the Eight Wonders was as clear as a brand, especially the basic methods of controlling Qi, how to gather, stabilize, and circulate it, which instantly became incredibly clear.
He instinctively modulated the flow of his aura along non-existent meridians, through various acupoints, and his mind became condensed.
The invisible net of his will instantly tightened.
Ten!
The originally overflowing and chaotic aura, as if bridled, suddenly paused, and then, under Ringo's command, was rapidly gathered, compressed, and firmly bound to the surface of his body.
A faint, almost invisible white glow, like a second skin, covered Ringo's entire body, and the fatal sensation of loss disappeared.
It worked!
He's alive!
Ecstasy surged through him; he greedily felt the replenished aura within his body: "Nen Ability and the Eight Wonders!"
What kind of brilliance would the skills from Hitori no Shita, meant for achieving immortality, unleash in the world of Hunter?
Hisoka... Post-Mortem Nen... Dark Continent... thoughts came flooding in.
Just then, from deep within the thick fog, clear footsteps could be heard.
"Pat-pat."
From far to near, steady and strong, treading on the soft, wet mud.
Ringo looked up, his whole body instantly tensed, his aura perception heightened to the extreme, locking onto the direction of the sound.
The thick fog was parted as if by an invisible force, and two figures, one tall and one short, gradually became clear.
The shorter boy wore a green spiky-haired jacket, his eyes clear and bright, full of wild curiosity.
Beside him was a handsome blond young man in traditional attire, his lake-blue eyes in the fog appearing exceptionally calm and sharp.
He now wore a hint of surprise and doubt, scrutinizing this battlefield strewn with corpses, and the sole survivor in the center, bathed in blood, with a complex and unreadable expression—Ringo.
Gon!
Kurapika!
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