The five ring-shaped islands and the central hub weren't the "runway" Liam had originally imagined. From a bird's-eye view, they formed a perfect target, a bullseye etched into the crust of the ocean.
Ever since he discovered this place, Ging Freecss had returned every year. His goal was singular: to pull the arrow out of the heart of the bullseye.
Shortly after Ging had plucked Kite from the slums, the student accompanied his master here once. At the time, Kite didn't quite understand how his teacher's mind worked. He had asked why Ging was so obsessed with the structure—why he was convinced a giant arrow was submerged beneath the island, and why he firmly believed it would one day take flight.
Ging had looked at him as if he were the one being dense. He mimed the action of drawing a massive bow toward the heavens. "Are you stupid?" he'd asked. "What else do you do with an arrow? You shoot it."
Kite hadn't understood back then. But today, watching the horizon, he finally grasped a piece of the puzzle.
He held down his hat, squinting against the wind as the colossal island-arrow ascended. His master had come here year after year, enduring countless disappointments and failures, just to witness this one moment of majesty. Is this the essence of a Hunter? Kite wondered. Having only recently earned his license, he felt he wasn't a "real" Hunter yet. He wanted to absorb every lesson, to imitate every instinct his teacher possessed.
Kurapika, unaware of the master-student dynamic, was fixated on the logistics. He watched the massive stone shaft rise, his mind racing through the thousands of divine characters etched into its surface. As the central island vanished, the black mist on the outer rings receded instantly. Was the mist just stored fuel? he wondered. Did the True Martial King drain every scrap of Nen from this archipelago just to launch this one projectile?
The king had spent a lifetime laying out divine scripts, carving Buddha statues, and leaving treasure maps—all for this one launch.
Shizuku, however, couldn't care less about the ancient king's grand design. She watched the earth-shaking ascent with a frown, her thoughts entirely on Liam. Where did he go? Did he get caught on the arrow? Is he flying away?
She scanned the sky, but the arrow was already a dwindling silhouette, piercing the higher cloud layers as it arced toward the horizon.
"Wait, what... what is that?"
The voice was deeper than she remembered, but the cadence was unmistakably Liam's.
Shizuku and Kurapika spun toward the sound. Standing there was a figure who looked like a refined, matured version of the boy they knew. He was two heads taller, with slender, powerful limbs and a physique that had shed its adolescent softness. His facial features were sharper, framed by hair that had grown long and wildly disheveled.
He stood barefoot, looking up at the sky with a look of genuine shock. In his hand, he gripped a blade manifested from his own aura—a shimmering, gas-like edge. His clothes were a mess of tatters; his sleeves and pant legs hung in strips, fluttering in the wind. He looked less like a teenage prodigy and more like a wandering, legendary swordsman.
Kurapika exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. Liam had warned them that absorbing too much death energy would force his body to change, but seeing it was different. How does a thirteen-year-old become a man in a heartbeat? Is he twenty now? At the very least, Kurapika was glad he hadn't aged into an old man.
The tall stranger looked at Kurapika with a look of utter confusion. "And you are?"
An exclamation mark practically manifested over Kurapika's head. Liam, you didn't say you'd get amnesia!
Shizuku walked up to him without hesitation. Liam reached out and casually chopped the top of her head—except now, his arm was at the level of her neck. He gave her a crooked, familiar grin. "Hey, am I taller than you now?"
Kurapika went deadpan. Zero amnesia. He's just a jerk.
"Yeah," Shizuku replied softly, looking up into his eyes. "How old are you now?"
"Twenty... one? Two? Six?" Liam shrugged. He had no internal clock for this. He hadn't seen a mirror and didn't feel any different on the inside. "You tell me. How old do I look?"
Shizuku studied him. From a distance, the change was jarring. But up close, looking at the familiar spark in his eyes, he was still the same person. "Twenty?"
"Let's go with nineteen," Liam decided. "I'm still young."
"Okay," Shizuku agreed.
Liam reached out and pulled her into a one-armed embrace. Shizuku leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was steady, resonant, and strong.
She looked down at the other hand, the one holding the shimmering air-sword. Kite stepped forward then, his expression unreadable. "Are you Liam?"
"The one and only," Liam said.
"You..." Kite trailed off, looking him up and down.
"Me?" Liam blinked. "What about me? It's not like I turned into a giant ant or something, right?"
Kite decided not to push it. Whether it was a Nen ability or something that happened during his brief disappearance, Liam clearly wasn't in the mood to explain the mechanics.
Ging, however, wasn't looking at Liam's height. His eyes were locked on the sword of aura.
A Transmuter could shape aura into a blade, sure, but Ging's intuition told him this weapon was built differently. It felt... integrated.
Liam and Ging locked eyes. Liam briefly considered mentioning his conversation with Blanchett on Greed Island to bridge the gap between them, but he realized that would link "Adult Liam" to the kid version Ging might eventually hear about. He swallowed the thought.
"Got something on your mind?" Ging asked, noticing the hesitation. He pointed to the air-sword. "Care to chat about where you went? That sword looks like fun, and..." He glanced at Liam's shadow. "Where's your guardian spirit beast?"
You know too much, Liam thought. He raised the sword, pointing it at the black speck in the sky—the receding arrow. "We can talk, but you first. What the hell is that thing?"
"That?" Ging smiled, watching the arrow vanish into the blue. "Just a parting gift from the True Martial King, Wangu Hui Guo Rou."
Kurapika scoffed internally. A thousand-meter stone shaft covered in divine script isn't 'nothing'.
"Where's it going?" Liam asked.
Ging's smile widened. "My guess? It's headed for the Dark Continent."
High above the world, the giant arrow tore through the clouds. The ancient stone glowed with a deep, pulsing light as the divine characters guided it across the ocean, over forgotten cities, and past the peaks of the mainland. It flew with a singular, terrifying purpose, crossing the boundaries of the known map and plunging into the boundless, dark sea beyond.
On a distant, weathered shore, black waves as dark as ink crashed against the rocks. The freezing spray soaked the hem of Pariston Hill's expensive trousers. He didn't seem to mind.
He pulled a business card from a silver case, crushed it between his fingers, and watched the pieces scatter into the wind.
Pariston turned his gaze away from the civilized world, looking toward the horizon. In the distance, a figure stood atop a jagged rock. He was as motionless as a statue, a tall, burly man with messy black hair tied into a bun with a simple wooden branch.
"The very edge of the map," Pariston called out, his voice light and cheerful. "The end of the world. Quite a view, isn't it?"
The man didn't turn around. He remained fixed on the darker, more dangerous ocean ahead.
"Mr. Beyond," Pariston said. "I'm curious. If you crave the Dark Continent so much, why are you still standing here?"
Beyond Netero finally spoke, his voice like grinding stones. "Kid, how did you find this place?"
Pariston smiled. "Is it because of the restrictions your father, Isaac Netero, placed on you?"
Beyond turned then, his bearded face breaking into a harsh grin. He stepped off the rock, attempting to move toward the open sea—toward the Dark Continent.
Instantly, the air behind him curdled. Wisps of black aura manifested like ink strokes from a brush, forming hundreds of reaching arms. They latched onto Beyond's shoulders, his waist, and his head, pulling him back with supernatural force.
The waves grew violent. The wind howled with the sound of a thousand weeping voices, whispering that the "sea of suffering is boundless" and that "turning back is salvation."
Beyond retracted his foot, and the arms vanished into a whirlpool of shadow.
"You see that?" Beyond growled. "This is as far as I can go."
"The end of the world indeed," Pariston mused.
"Doesn't matter!" Beyond shouted at the sea, his eyes burning with a manic light. "I'll wait! I'll wait until the seas run dry and the rocks crumble into dust!"
"A power like that... it requires an incredible oath," Pariston noted. "You voluntarily entered into this contract with your father."
Beyond ignored him. "Hey. Something's coming." He pointed to the churning black water.
Pariston squinted. Hundreds of meters away, something was bobbing in the surf. "A sea monster? It doesn't look human."
"It still has aura," Beyond said, his stomach growling. "Go get it. I'm hungry."
"I'd love to help," Pariston said, "but I think it's coming to us."
The thing in the water had noticed them. Though it appeared to be dying, a sudden surge of predatory instinct took over. It tore through the waves like a torpedo, launching itself out of the water and pouncing toward Beyond.
"Hiss!"
Its jagged mouthparts snapped frantically. Pariston tilted his head, observing the creature's segmented body. "An ant?"
Facing the ferocious giant insect, Beyond Netero just sneered. His aura exploded, a pillar of golden light that challenged the very sky.