Location: Heaven's Arena & Surrounding City District

  Timeline: January 1988

  Age: 12

  Elian and I stood in the elevator as it descended from the 200th floor.

  As the digital display dinged and the doors began to open on the 180th floor, I looked over at him. "Do not use Nen in the ring."

  Elian shifted his gym bag on his shoulder, pausing before stepping out. "What happens if I use it?"

  "If you hit a normal fighter with a strike coated in Ren, it violently forces their aura nodes open," I explained simply. "It's a forced awakening."

  "And since they don't know how to hold that energy in, they bleed out and die right there on the mat."

  Elian froze. He remembered his own harsh initiation in our hotel room. "You didn't mention the dying part before. I thought I would have just been drained of energy if I failed."

  The reality of what a Nen baptism actually was suddenly hit him. He swallowed hard, his face paling slightly as he realized what would have happened if he hadn't managed to contain his aura that day.

  He looked at me, a flash of genuine fear in his eyes.

  "Don't look at me like that," I said calmly. "I knew you could control it. You were trained in martial arts much longer than most, and you are incredibly talented to have built that kind of physical strength at your age. Just don't use Nen today. But, if the opponent turns out to be a Nen user, use it."

  Elian let out a slow breath, nodding as he stepped out onto the 180th floor. The doors closed, and I took the elevator the rest of the way down to the ground level, heading out into the sprawling city to search for antique stores, rare book merchants, and historical appraisers.

  I walked into a cramped, dusty bookstore that smelled strongly of binding glue and aged parchment. I spent nearly an hour scanning the back shelves, focusing entirely on archaeological records.

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  I pulled out several heavy volumes detailing the ruins of lost empires. But the most valuable find was a thick, utilitarian directory tucked away on a bottom shelf.

  It was an official, publicly released publication printed by the Hunter Association. It cataloged various excavated empires and mapped out a handful of safe, publicly accessible rune locations that had already been cleared by professional Ruin Hunters.

  These books would be extremely useful. I paid for the stack and stepped back outside.

  I continued searching through a few other shops in the district, buying a few more historical texts along the way. As I navigated down a quieter, upscale side street, a narrow, high-end antique boutique caught my eye.

  I stepped inside. The shop was air-conditioned, with a fancy-looking interior that had valuable pieces showcased under glass. I spent some time observing the standard historical items on display before I finally approached the counter.

  "Do you have any rarer artifacts on the second floor?" I asked the shopkeeper, an older man in a tailored vest.

  I noticed a flash of hesitation across the owner's face when I mentioned the second floor. He looked me up and down, clearly unwilling to hand over anything dangerous or out of the ordinary to a teenager.

  "I'm a registered fighter on the 200th floor of Heaven's Arena," I stated calmly, keeping my tone flat and factual.

  The shopkeeper's posture instantly relaxed. He nodded, understanding the implication. "My apologies. Items with residual aura are strictly reserved for VIP customers. Right this way."

  He locked the front door and led me upstairs to the second floor. After a moment, he brought out three distinct items along with their details and placed them on a velvet table. The first was an ornate gemstone necklace, strictly meant for beauty—I wasn't interested in it. The second was a painting. Using Gyo, I was immediately attracted to the vibrant, life-like feeling radiating from the canvas; the artist had unconsciously driven their Nen into the brushstrokes. But my eyes settled on the third item: a thick, metallic lockbox. Focusing Gyo on the latch, I saw a faint, perfectly geometric ring. It was a sequence of unrecognizable letters strung together around the circumference—the Divine Scripts responsible for the locking and password mechanism.

  "I'll take the lockbox," I said, tearing my eyes away from the painting. "And do you have any ancient literature regarding Divine Scripts?"

  The owner shook his head as he wrapped the heavy box. "That kind of knowledge is exceptionally rare. You won't find it in normal shops. But if you have the funds, you might try your luck at the underground auction happening in two days. I can give you the location details."

  He handed me a slip of paper with the address, along with a sleek VIP customer card. "If you would leave your number, I will call you directly if any other artifacts of this nature come into my possession."

  I gave him my contact information, thanked him, and headed back to the Arena.

  By the time I returned to Room 1014 that evening, Elian was already back, resting on the couch. He sat up as I set the heavy lockbox and the stack of books on the coffee table.

  He immediately leaned over, curiously observing the metal box. He grabbed the lid and pulled, his muscles straining, but the latch didn't budge a millimeter. Frowning, he flared a thin layer of Ren over his hands and tried again. Nothing.

  "It won't open like that," I told him, taking my jacket off. "It's an artifact calibrated to a very specific Nen frequency. To open it, you either need to perfectly match the original owner's aura signature, or you need to possess enough raw, overwhelming power to completely obliterate the reinforced material."

  Elian withdrew his hands, looking at it with a mix of respect and frustration. "So it's basically a brick right now."

  "For now," I agreed. "There's an underground auction happening in the city in two days. I'm going to see if they have any texts on ancient runes."

  I looked over at him. "You can come if you want, or stay focused on the Arena. But if you're coming, you need to find a proxy to handle your match scheduling so you don't default while we're out."

  Elian's eyes lit up, his teenage excitement breaking through his usual focus. "I'll find a person to see my schedules tomorrow. I want to see what an underground auction is like!"