Location: Regional Train (Heading to Tarrin)

  Timeline: March 1988

  Age: 12

  I was sitting in a private sleeper car on a regional train heading toward Tarrin, a dusty logistical town near the base of the Kujin Mountains.

  It was March, exactly one month since the underground auction. I stared at the bulky screen of my portable computer, testing the basic game mechanics of a pre-3D physics engine I was trying to build.

  Transmuting aura into a vector wasn't just about knowing the math. Kinetic energy had mass, velocity, and direction—I understood the equations perfectly. But the fundamental rule of Transmutation required a deep, profound sensory visualization. I couldn't just think about a vector; I had to physically experience it.

  Since there was no way to actually see or touch a mathematical vector in the real world, I had no natural way to develop that visualization.

  That was why I was building a 3D VR physics engine. I needed a full-dive simulation—something akin to the concept of Sword Art Online from my past life—a digital space where physical bodies were stripped away entirely, leaving only moving figures represented as raw, glowing energy vectors. By immersing myself in that environment and feeding the vector data directly into my sensory reflexes, I could burn the visualization into my mind until I could finally transmute the concept into reality.

  The issue was the software. Building a functional 3D physics engine from scratch was going to take me decades at the present world's VR and 3D engine progress alone, especially since there were no pre-made 3D physics engines available to the public yet.

  That was where the Divine Scripts came in. I had spent the last month reverse-engineering the syntax from the artifact in the mafia boss's vault. If Ging Freecss could build something as massive as Greed Island using Divine Scripts, I could use them to build a brain-computer interface. By carving specific scripts into a headband, I could bypass the keyboard entirely, translating my mental calculations directly into the computer to drastically accelerate writing the engine code.

  To build that interface, however, I needed more syntax. Over the last month, I had visited a safe, already-cleared ruin just to study the residual structures. I hadn't found any active scripts, but I had met the person in charge of the ruins and got a highly valuable piece of information: an official, licensed Ruin Hunter was currently staging a new excavation out near Tarrin, and he was hiring cheap labor.

  The heavy, brick-like cell phone on the table suddenly buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  I picked it up. The connection was highly static, but the voice on the other end was unmistakable.

  "Hey! Can you hear me?" Elian shouted over the line. "The reception in the Arena lobby is terrible today."

  "I hear you perfectly," I said, leaning back in my seat. "You sound highly energized. I'm assuming the registration went through?"

  "Cleared it an hour ago," Elian laughed, the sheer excitement bleeding through the speaker. "I'm officially registered on the 200th floor. And I already booked my first match. It’s scheduled for three days from now."

  "Congratulations," I said. "How is the progress on the muscle expansion coming along?"

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  "It's getting there," Elian replied, his tone shifting into a more serious focus. "I can add about ten percent more muscle mass without throwing off my balance. Anything more than that, and the sheer volume restricts my flexibility and throws my center of gravity completely out of whack."

  "You just need to adjust to it," I assured him. "Here is the strategy: scout your opponent first. If you draw someone who isn't a bloodthirsty killer, I want you to push your Hatsu more dangerously. Use the match to experiment with the muscle expansion and get used to the shift in balance in a real battle scenario."

  "Even if I leave an opening?" Elian asked.

  "Even if you lose," I told him flatly. "The 200th floor is about developing your Nen, not your win record. All strong Nen users are somewhat selfish and completely driven by their own personal goals. Be selfish with your development. Push your limits and, most importantly, enjoy the fight."

  "Scout the opponent, push the Hatsu, and enjoy the fight... huh. Got it," Elian repeated, a grin evident in his voice. "Where are you right now?"

  "Just pulling into the expedition town," I said, glancing out the train window as the dusty, sun-baked buildings of the settlement came into view. "Focus on your matches. I'll be back at Heaven's Arena in two to three weeks."

  "Good luck out there, Kaelo."

  "You too."

  I hung up the phone and packed my computer and notes into my duffel bag. When the train hissed to a halt, I stepped out onto the dirt platform, the dry heat immediately washing over me.

  The town was a logistical hub for miners, mercenaries, and treasure hunters. It was loud, crowded, and smelled of diesel fuel and cheap alcohol. I adjusted the strap of my bag and navigated through the bustling markets, eventually finding what I was looking for at the edge of the settlement.

  It was a highly organized staging area. Crates of specialized excavation gear and reinforced cabling were being loaded onto off-road transports. Standing near the center of the camp was a tall man with the heavy, unmistakable aura of an experienced professional.

  I walked straight toward him.

  The moment his eyes landed on me, the Hunter's casual posture vanished. He visibly tensed, his hand dropping closer to his waist. He wasn't looking at a twelve-year-old kid; he was looking at my aura. Or rather, the complete lack of it leaking from my body. He instantly recognized a perfect state of Ten.

  "Stop right there," the Hunter warned, his aura shifting defensively. "Who are you?"

  "I'm looking for a spot on your logistical team," I said plainly, stopping a polite distance away so I wouldn't trigger his spatial reflexes. "I plan to take the Hunter Exam this December to become a Ruin Hunter. I would like to get some experience."

  The Hunter frowned, his eyes narrowing as he evaluated my flawless Nen control. "A kid walking around with that kind of aura control doesn't need to carry crates. What's your background?"

  "I'm a registered 200th-floor fighter at Heaven's Arena," I answered.

  The Hunter didn't laugh or dismiss the claim. He kept his eyes locked firmly on me, treating me as a highly dangerous, unknown variable. "Stay exactly where you are."

  He pulled out a heavy cell phone and dialed a number, keeping me in his peripheral vision. "Hey, it's me. Run a background check on the Heaven's Arena registry. Yeah, the 200th floor. Look for a kid." He paused, listening to the static on the other end. "Uh-huh. Yeah. Alright, thanks."

  He hung up the phone and looked at me in a completely new light. The hostility dialed back, replaced by a calculating pragmatism.

  "The verification cleared. You're lethal, kid," the Hunter said, relaxing his posture slightly. "I'm Rylan, a Single-Star Ruin Hunter. I'll let you join the logistical crew. We can always use someone competent watching our backs. But here are the terms: you're hired help. That means you get absolutely zero share of any treasure, artifacts, or spoils we pull out of that ruin."

  "I accept," I said instantly. "However, I do have one request. If possible, I would like to record information related to the ruins—the history of the countries connected to it, and specifically, any Divine Scripts we find. I am researching them, so I would like permission to note the scripts and observe the data of any artifacts we uncover after the expedition, strictly under your supervision."

  Rylan stared at me for a moment, weighing the request. Since observing and taking notes didn't cut into his profit margin, he gave a curt nod. "Fine. As long as you don't get in the way of the actual excavation, you can take all the notes you want."

  I nodded back. I didn't care about the treasure. I just needed to look at the ruins.