Hunter x Hunter: Unleashed

ANNOUNCEMENT: This story, along with Fantasy Realm, will switch from Daily releases to around five releases per week. I could lower word count, but I'd rather deliver you fun-to-read chapters instead of endless cliffhangers. Releasing two chapters daily costs me 5+ hours of time. Add to that a full-time job and household duties, and I do NOTHING else the entire day. I hope you understand.

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Chapter Start:

Seeing the crowd cheer, and Neffi—for a brief moment—looking incredibly confident and heroic despite her still obvious injuries, Auren can't help but smile as he walks back to his room.

Around thirty minutes later, the door to Auren's room opens, and Neffi slowly walks in.

Auren, holding Eternity in his hand, gestures to the ground and speaks up. "Sit down!"

Surprised, she asks, "Why—" but then complies and sits down.

"Remember the bet? Fine. You win. I'll fulfill your wish."

"I haven't even told you what I wa—" she starts in a quiet voice, but Auren ignores her completely.

His voice shifts into something serious, darker. "If you reveal my secret… you will die. Not only you, but your master, and anyone you love will suffer a terrible fate. If you don't want to take that risk, say so now. If you stay silent… I'll proceed."

He says this while pressing Eternity right against her neck.

Neffi trembles slightly. Her lips part, then close again without a word.

I hope I won't regret this… but I don't want to keep living like before. I want to meet this girl—really meet her. Not this half-recovered, half-destroyed version, but the real Neffi.

Auren then takes one of his shirts from the wardrobe and ties it around her head, using it as a makeshift blindfold.

His Aura shifts into an azure hue, glowing softly. He takes her right hand in his.

Immediately, he notices her body's true condition—the bones are shattered in countless places. The damage is so extensive, that the hand can be considered as permanently crippled, without any real hope for a natural recovery.

Focusing his Hatsu, he gently pours his Aura into her hand.

Neffi lets out a soft moan, unable to stop herself. "This… feels really good," she says, her voice almost euphoric.

Auren sighs but doesn't stop. He keeps focusing. As Azure Restoration flows through her, he can feel the bones, the joints, the ligaments—even her skin—visibly shifting, warping, healing, and even regrowing.

What have I created? This Ability really is logic-defying… Where is the limit?

It takes him just ten minutes to drain every last bit of his Aura reserves.

By the end, he's breathing heavily, completely drained.

I guess… this is the limit. I myself am the limit. For permanent injuries like this, the cost is too high. I only managed to restore her right hand. There's still her left foot… her other wounds… all those scars. It'll take me at least a week. During battle, I can only use it for smaller injuries.

His head spinning, he mutters, "That's all for today," before stumbling toward the bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and collapsing onto his bed.

Sleep takes him almost immediately—his Aura gone, exhaustion sinking deep into his bones.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Auren slowly wakes up. Sunlight streams through the window.

As he rolls over, his arm brushes against something soft—silky.

Then he sees her.

Neffi, who is lying next to him. His arm resting on her hair.

… What is she doing?

Before Auren can even form a coherent thought, her eyes open, locking with his.

"Good morning," she says softly.

She stretches her arms and lifts her hands into the light.

One is covered in scars. The other looks pristine—so flawless it almost seems fake, like it's not real.

"…Damn. I overdid it. At the end, I just wanted to finish and was too tired to pay attention," Auren mutters.

Neffi's expression shifts—her tone serious. "I am very grateful. You won't regret this. When I first started fighting here, I visited countless hospitals. I even met with some of the famous experts my Master secretly arranged for me. Every single one of them gave up on my right hand and left foot. The rest of the injuries were judged as barely treatable—only through multiple, high-risk surgeries."

She flexes her fingers slowly. "But this… it's never felt better. It feels reborn. I know you're taking a big risk. I won't waste your time thanking you. I'll show you how grateful I am—with actions."

"Fine," Auren replies, sitting up.

"Can I ask you something?" she whispers, her voice as refreshing as a fresh breeze.

"Sure. What is it?" he responds.

"…Why?"

"…Good question," Auren says after a pause. "Let's just say I have regrets. And I'm tired of watching people I care about suffer just because I stood by and did nothing."

"You care about me?"

"I liked how hard you tried, and I certainly sympathize with your… situation.. I really think it's impressive how you didn't give up, even with everything stacked against you. Anyway—get out already. I need to get dressed," Auren says, his tone turning slightly irritated by her persistence.

She rises without complaint, then turns at the door and flashes him a genuine, quiet smile—before closing it behind her.

Over the next few days, Auren continues treating Neffi—but when all her injuries are finally addressed, he hesitates before proceeding further.

It should be fine…

Now intending to focus on the scars, Neffi stands up and turns around.

"No need for the rest! I'm back in top shape!" she says with a big smile. "Thank you so much! You won't regret this, I promise."

"What about the scars? I focused on your internal injuries first—aside from those that were on your right hand, the rest of your scars are still there," Auren replies.

"It's fine! How about you heal them in a few years? Wouldn't want to risk exposing your Hatsu, right?" she says calmly, as if it doesn't bother her.

"Are you sure?" Auren asks, genuinely surprised by her attitude.

"Yes, don't worry about it. I was depressed because my body was falling apart, and I felt like I couldn't live up to my Master's expectations. The scars? I don't care about those," she says with a grin.

"Liar… but if that's your wish. How about we revisit this in a few years? By then, fewer eyes will be on you. Maybe I can heal you slowly—it'll seem more natural and believable. Anyway, in a few years, I won't need to hide anymore. I'll be one of the strongest Nen users in the world," Auren says.

"Hehe, sure… wait, you're serious?" she asks, still smiling. "Then you better train hard! From now on, I'll teach you properly—like I promised!"

"That's what was promised to me from the start. What about you? Do you want to keep going in the 200th class?" Auren asks.

"No need. That would be too risky—it could expose your ability if I suddenly fight seriously. I'll focus on training and teaching you," she answers.

She is surprisingly docile and understanding. Good

"Maybe you should still sign up. That way, you'll get your own room. Even if you lose from not showing up for your matches, you only need to fight once every three months. That's nearly a year you can stay here if you just don't show up to fights. Not that I'm planning to stay that long," Auren suggests.

"Our current arrangement works just fine," she says with a smirk. "Remember, I'm your prisoner! You have to supervise me properly!"

Not like you cared before, when you just left and did your own thing…

Changing topics, Neffi suddenly asks Auren a question: "How about a spar? If I win, you give me a Ben's Knife!" Neffi says, acting all innocent.

"No way in hell! Fuck off! Thief!"

"But you've got six of them!"

"I want all of them! Weren't you grateful? Go gather a few for me, that could be your thanks!"

Neffi sulks for a moment, then quickly smiles. "I'll see what I can do," she says.

Auren pulls out his Ben's Knives—except for No. 223, the first one he ever bought.

"Pick a few… but I'm not giving them to you. I'm loaning them to you, they remain mine!" Auren says.

"I'd love to try them out during training, but I'll pass. These are too valuable to get scratched up. Still, despite acting all strict, you're pretty nice, aren't you? You would have really just given them to me? I'd be interested in hearing your story," she says casually.

"My story?" Auren echoes.

"Surely, you've got an interesting tale to tell," Neffi replies with a knowing smile.

Auren pauses. "Maybe someday. But if you want to hear mine, tell me yours first."

"Maybe someday," she says, her expression a quiet mix of sadness and acceptance.

Auren and Neffi, now on genuinely good terms, continue their training.

Every now and then, Konrad stops by—giving updates on their company and asking questions about Nen and Auren, giving him some pointers, as he hasn't mastered Ren yet.

Finally, Auren's sixth fight is scheduled—and this time, his opponent actually shows up.

Auren walks into the Arena, holding Eternity.

His opponent, also wielding a katana, looks visibly surprised when he sees Auren carrying a weapon so similar to his own.

"Are you mocking me, kid?" the man says. He's tall, likely in his early twenties, with long black hair tied in a messy ponytail.

"Shut up, amateur!" Auren snaps back.

The man freezes for a moment, then glares at Auren—his eyes full of hatred and renewed determination.

Finally, a real match. This guy's probably Enhancer. He hasn't shown any Nen ability yet, but this is his first fight in this class. This is perfect. I'm going to crush him.

"Oh, everyone, do you see what I see?" the female announcer calls out with a cheerful tone. "Participant Auren has brought a similarly thin, single-edged sword! Is this a challenge to Participant Keita? Keita is new to the 200 class! Today is his first fight—let's see what he's capable of!"

The referee calls both Auren and Keita forward, goes over the usual rules, then signals them to return to their positions.

Auren stands still, Eternity resting in its white sheath at his left side. He places his right hand on the handle, ready to react.

His opponent approaches, and both fighters activate Ren at the same moment.

Auren then steps forward, preparing to use an Iai technique.

Both fighters draw their blades and strike forward—metal slicing air as a loud clash echoes through the Arena.

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