On the shores of the Island of Conjuration, Shizuku stood perfectly still, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The next ring of land in the sequence was the Island of Transmutation. Through the mental link of the moon mark, Liam had already shared the layout of this strange archipelago with her.
Logically, Kurapika should have been teleported to the same starting point as her. Is he lost? she wondered, blinking behind her glasses.
Shizuku hadn't made a single vow since arriving. She wore the jade pendant etched with divine script, and by layering the techniques of Cone and Listen, the oppressive fog became transparent to her. She didn't need the island's "gifts."
With a sudden, light leap, she plunged into the sea.
As she held her breath and began to swim, her Nen responded to her intent. The aura surrounding her feet flickered and reshaped itself into several rotating chainsaws.
Buzz, buzz, buzz...
The blades spun with the ferocity of high-speed propellers, churning the water into a violent vortex behind her. The initial current tried to drag her backward, but Shizuku quickly adjusted the angle of her feet. The drag shifted into a powerful forward thrust, propelling her through the depths.
To further increase her speed, she reached out and materialized Blinky. Holding the vacuum cleaner in front of her like a sleek underwater scooter, she surfaced just enough to breathe and gave a silent command: "Blinky, inhale the water in a straight line ahead of me."
Blinky began to gorge itself on the sea, creating a localized vacuum in front of her. It was like grasping an invisible tow rope that yanked her forward. Between the chainsaw propellers and Blinky's suction, Shizuku's speed doubled. She tore through the waves like a torpedo, aimed directly at the Island of Transmutation.
Liam couldn't help but chuckle.
Shizuku really did have the most eccentric, brilliant ideas for her abilities. His sudden laughter caused Kite to glance at him with a look of mild concern.
Liam cleared his throat and pointed toward the swirling gray periphery. "Some of these monsters are really trying too hard with the 'scary ghost' routine. It's almost funny."
Rustling sounds echoed from the mist. Dark, humanoid shapes began to coalesce at the edge of the fog. Some looked like withered corpses, while others were little more than shifting silhouettes of dark gas.
"These are the remnants of those who perished here," Kite explained, his hand hovering near his waist. "Their lingering resentment and regrets kept their Nen from dissipating."
"Or maybe," Liam finished for him, "there's something fundamentally wrong with this island. It feels like the land itself forces Nen to become post-mortem. It's a factory for ghosts."
The specters drifted out of the gloom. The ones that looked human were unsettling enough, but the formless ones emitted an aura of pure, concentrated dread. They let out low, guttural whimpers and animalistic roars as they began to encircle the two men.
Liam cracked his knuckles, a spark of annoyance in his eyes. "Look, I'm not some specialist in post-mortem Nen. Why do I keep attracting these stubborn, resentful spirits? It's getting old."
"Leave this to me," Kite said.
He extended his hand, releasing a concentrated burst of aura that materialized into a floating, cackling clown's head.
The clown surveyed the spectral horde and immediately began to shriek. "Ugh! It's so crowded! So ghostly! I can't stand it! Pick a number and let's get to the killing!"
The clown exploded into a cloud of pungent green smoke. When the haze cleared, the number "2" was displayed in its wide-open mouth. From the clown's neck, a massive sickle—several meters long—extended into Kite's grip.
Kite adjusted his stance and glanced at Liam. "In three seconds, jump."
Oh, boy. Here we go, Liam thought, suppressing the urge to joke about whether a certain Royal Guard was about to show up.
Kite didn't hesitate. He swung the gargantuan sickle in a violent, horizontal arc. It was an exaggerated, 360-degree sweep that struck at exactly one meter high.
The "Waltz of Death" tore through the air. Every ghost within a ten-meter radius was sliced clean in two. Their forms didn't fall; they simply dissolved back into the black mist, feeding the very fog that had birthed them.
"It's a cycle," Liam noted as the area cleared. "Trap people here, drive them mad until they die, and then use their lingering thoughts to nourish the fog. The island is self-sustaining."
Kite turned, surprised to find Liam hadn't jumped. Instead, the younger man had performed a limber backbend, leaning close to the ground like a bridge to let the blade pass inches above him.
"Why didn't you jump?" Kite asked.
Liam straightened up and patted the dust off his clothes. "I can't fly, Kite. The moment my feet leave the ground, I lose my sense of security. If I can avoid a hit by staying low, that's where I'm staying."
Kite nodded slowly. It was a pragmatic, if unusual, logic.
"More importantly," Liam continued, "why the sudden display of power? Are we best friends now?"
The clown's head at the base of the scythe took offense to being ignored. "I have a roulette in my mouth! Numbers one through nine—"
"Quiet," Kite sighed, dispelling the ability and the scythe into a wisp of aura. He looked at Liam calmly. "Nen requires actual combat to improve. I was simply practicing."
"Whatever you say. But don't expect me to show you my cards just yet," Liam grumbled as they began to walk deeper into the ringed island.
The islands were relatively narrow; a 300-meter walk would take them to the opposite shore, leading them closer to the central spire. Liam kept his eyes on the water. He had used the Spirit Gun earlier, which Kite likely categorized as an Emission feat. And after his encounter with the woman, a keen observer would have deduced he had some form of self-manipulation to ward off her control.
The people in this world are too smart for their own good, Liam thought. In the One Piece world, you just hit things with harder Haki. Here, if someone catches the logic of your ability, you're dead, no matter how much raw power you have.
He wondered if being a "hexagonal warrior" like Kurapika—balanced in all categories—was the only way to be truly safe.
As they approached the shoreline, Liam turned to Kite. "That woman from earlier... do you think she made an oath before she ended it?"
Kite paused, his gaze drifting to the dark water. "Are you worried her resentment will haunt you?"
"I wasn't, but now I am," Liam admitted. "She waited. She listened to our theories about the fog and the oaths. She only killed herself after she knew how the system worked. It feels... calculated."
"An oath combined with post-mortem Nen," Kite mused. "The power would be immense. If it was directed entirely at you, it could be a death sentence."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Liam said, feeling a sudden, icy chill settle in his chest. "I have a really bad feeling about—"
Liam!
Shizuku's voice rang clearly in his mind through the moon mark.
Are you heading my way? she asked.
Yeah, I've just reached the Enhancement island, Liam replied mentally. You should be on Transmutation by now.
Shizuku had reached the Island of Transmutation with minutes to spare. She had used a conjured chainsaw as a grappling hook to pull herself onto the jagged rocks. Once on dry land, she used Blinky to vacuum the seawater and salt directly off her skin, leaving her dry and refreshed in seconds.
"Blinky, spit it out." The vacuum cleaner discharged a torrent of water back into the sea like a high-powered pump.
Shizuku had intended to keep moving to meet Liam, but her Listen ability picked up something unusual. Beyond the constant, mournful murmuring of the mist, there was the distinct sound of a struggle.
She dampened her aura, using In to hide her presence. Unlike Liam, she didn't like the vulnerability of Zetsu in enemy territory. She crept toward the noise and found five men divided into two groups, fighting fiercely in the gloom.
The odds were three against two, but the pair seemed to have the upper hand—at least until one of the three began to glow with a terrifying intensity.
"What did you do?" one of the pair shouted, retreating. "Your aura is exploding!"
"He must have made an oath to the mist," the other whispered. "Trading years of his life for a temporary surge in power."
"You think we're that short-sighted?" the leader of the three laughed. It was a hollow, chilling sound. "The treasures of this island belong to the First Prince. He is the rightful heir, and we are his blades."
"You're the only ones left," the pair countered, though their voices wavered. "You're talking nonsense."
"Lifespan? Ten years? Twenty?" the leader sneered. "Did the First Prince raise you to be so naive? We don't trade years. We trade the end."
He glanced at his two subordinates. "After we die, our lingering thoughts will empower the captain. As long as there is a spark of reluctance or a shadow of resentment, the oath holds. It's the most efficient way to ensure the mission succeeds."
The opposing two men turned pale. "You're insane!"
The subordinates ignored them. They drew serrated daggers and held them to their own throats. "Have you forgotten? We are the Unsustainable People. We have nothing to lose because we were never meant to last."
Without a flicker of hesitation, they slit their own throats. Blood sprayed into the gray mist.
The moment Shizuku saw the daggers, she activated the moon mark.
Liam, stay back! she warned. If you're within a thousand meters, the death energy from these two might hit you!
Liam's response was strained. A little late for that, Shizuku...
Did you absorb it?
Two of them. Hiss... it's getting hard to stand.
Shizuku watched from the shadows. Two translucent, oily strands of aura rose from the fallen men and coiled around their captain. His aura flared, doubling in size and turning an ominous shade of violet.
But if their Nen had gone to the captain, what were the "death energies" that had sought out Liam's heart? Even if their primary will went to their leader, the raw, unfiltered shock of their violent deaths seemed to have found a different target.
Shizuku, what's happening over there? Liam asked, his mental voice tight with pain.
Shizuku didn't stick around to watch the fight. She summoned her chainsaw propellers again, determined to reach Liam. As she moved, she relayed the details of the "Unsustainable People" and their suicide pact.
I'm screwed, Liam's voice came through again. It's happening again!
High above the archipelago, thunder rolled through the black clouds. The atmosphere turned heavy and suffocating. The mist began to churn violently as the countless residual thoughts of the island's victims began to pull together, knitting themselves into a colossal, terrifying silhouette that loomed over the islands.
"Did you see that? Look at that!"
On the peak of the central spire, Ging Freecss sat perched on a ledge, holding his phone up to record the gargantuan figure forming in the fog. He was grinning like a child at a theme park.
"If I'm right, that's the lingering ghost of Wangu Hui Guo Rou! A man like that doesn't just stay dead."
On the other end of the video call, Cheadle Yorkshire sighed. "I asked you for a simple status report, Ging. I didn't expect a lecture on ancient royal grudges. Just how much do you know about this place?"
At the base of the spire, Kurapika looked up, eyes wide.
How did he even get up there? He turned his attention back to the minaret, tracing the strange textures and symbols etched into the stone. The more he looked at the tower's silhouette, the more a cold, familiar dread began to pool in his stomach.