Chapter 11: Isn't This Easy?
A marble-sized orb of aura separated from Haru's fingertip, floating gently in the air like a miniature energy sphere.
Mastering basic techniques like Ten, Zetsu, and Gyo had come naturally to him, but practicing Emission techniques was a different story. It took Haru a solid ten minutes to release this tiny orb of aura.
Emission, as the name implies, involves projecting aura outside the body for offensive or practical purposes. Only natural Emission users could maintain 100% power in these techniques.
As a Manipulation user, Haru's proficiency in Emission techniques capped at 80%. This limitation likely explained the added difficulty he faced while training.
Moreover, the practical results were… underwhelming.
Haru flicked his finger lazily, tossing the small orb of aura toward a tree. The aura orb floated in a wobbly arc, traveling about ten meters before dissipating harmlessly.
Disappointed but determined, he tried again, repeating the process multiple times over half an hour. Just as he was about to give up, Haru had a sudden thought.
"Let's try this…"
Haru adjusted his posture, forming a loose "slingshot" with his thumb and forefinger. The aura orb hovered, trembling slightly, as if caught in an invisible sling.
Taking careful aim, Haru pulled back with his mind, focusing on a tree trunk about twenty meters away. After a brief charge, he released.
Whizz!
The aura orb shot forward like a bullet, slamming into the tree with a loud bang. A hand-sized crater appeared on the trunk, with a deeper, circular hole at its center.
"Success!" Haru grinned, pleased with the result.
This improvement came not from raw talent but from his deep understanding of Nen principles. Haru had purposefully added a "restriction" to his technique.
He remembered how Gon's Rock Paper Scissors ability gained power from a self-imposed limitation: Gon believed he needed to shout the technique's name and perform the associated gesture to maximize its impact. These self-imposed rules, whether deliberate or subconscious, enhanced a Nen ability's potential.
According to Izunavi, Kurapika's teacher, these "vows and restrictions" function like multipliers in Nen. Regular techniques scale linearly with aura investment, but adding strict limitations introduces an exponential boost. Of course, breaking such vows often results in severe backlash.
Haru didn't swear any binding oath, but by mimicking the mechanics of vows—deliberately limiting himself to a slingshot gesture and a brief charging period—he achieved noticeable improvements in power.
Despite the enhancements, Haru knew his Emission-based attacks were still weaker than those of a natural Emission user.
"Let's go again!" Haru excitedly created another aura orb, pulled it into the slingshot position, and aimed at a leaf on a tree branch.
Snap!
The aura orb shot out, grazing the leaf before it fell to the ground. The reduced charging time weakened the attack, but Haru didn't mind.
"This is practically foolproof! Developing Nen abilities is easier than I thought!"
Just as he prepared for another shot, exhaustion crept in. Haru felt his aura reserves running dangerously low.
"Damn, my aura pool is tiny…" he muttered, collapsing to the ground.
While resting, Haru absentmindedly plucked a strand of hair and infused it with the remnants of his aura. Using Song of the Earth, he manipulated the hair, floating it in front of him.
The aura-imbued hair twisted and turned effortlessly, forming a star, crescent moon, and even a dancing stick figure. Despite struggling with precise aura shapes, Haru's Manipulation ability compensated, allowing him near-flawless control over the hair's movements.
Satisfied with his progress, Haru's stomach growled loudly. He rummaged through Toru's supply pack, pulling out some rations and water.
"Hey, Toru, you haven't eaten yet, have you?" Haru asked between bites of dry bread and biscuits, washing them down with water. Pointing to the forest, he added, "Go hunt something. I doubt these scraps would even fill your tooth gap."
Toru hesitated, growling softly in concern.
"Don't worry about me. I'm a superhuman now!" Haru laughed, demonstrating his power by launching a small aura orb that exploded into a shallow crater nearby. "See? Nothing to worry about. Go on, hurry back!"
Reluctantly, Toru nudged Haru with its head before bounding into the dense forest.
With his belly full, Haru planned to resume training. However, the fatigue from earlier coupled with his recent meal made him drowsy.
"Come on, Haru. Don't be lazy now," he chided himself. Lying flat on the ground, he gave himself a direct order. "Get up. Ten sets of Ten, Zetsu, Gyo, and Ren. End with Ken until your aura's gone."
As the words left his mouth, the golden five-pointed star on the back of his neck flared to life.
It was like dropping a seed into a puddle—no, into a shallow ditch of aura.
Haru jerked upright like a puppet on strings.
Manipulating himself with Song of the Earth gave Haru an oddly surreal experience. He could feel everything but also observed his movements from a detached perspective.
"It's… weird," Haru mused before shrugging it off and diving back into the monotonous drills.
By the time Toru returned at dusk with a limp rabbit in its jaws, Haru had lost count of his practice sets. Even with the star's recovery effect, his aura output during Ken had dwindled after a full day of exertion.
The clearing bore the scars of his efforts: broken branches, scattered leaves, and tree trunks riddled with craters and dents.
Later, as the campfire crackled and the rabbit's remains were reduced to bones, Haru leaned against Toru's side, patting his full stomach. It was an idyllic scene, except for one nagging thought.
"Where's that stupid wolf?" Haru frowned, glancing toward the darkened forest. "It's been gone all day. Don't tell me it couldn't catch a single bird…"
Remembering his earlier commands, Haru realized he hadn't ordered the wolf to eat. Was it possible the wolf had starved itself while tirelessly patrolling the traps?
Probably not…
As Haru pondered, a strange sensation crept up his spine. It felt like someone—or something—was watching him.
He snapped upright, instinctively gathering aura into his eyes for Gyo. Peering into the shadows, he saw a faint silhouette—a pale, childlike figure silently observing him.
Just as Haru focused, the figure vanished.
"Was that… a ghostly little kid?" Haru muttered, absentmindedly stroking Toru's fur. "Hey, Toru, you wouldn't happen to have a local haunting problem, would you?"
(End of Chapter)