Chapter 12: A New Resolve
The Low District's distant hum seeping through the window. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering bulb overhead, casting shadows across the peeling walls. Leo sat on his lumpy mattress, his newly renewed E-Rank hunter card in hand, its holographic stamp glinting faintly. He'd repaid the license fee that morning—scraping together credits from odd jobs and the granny's gratitude—securing his place as an official E-Rank hunter. The card felt heavier than before, a symbol of his growth. Over the past week, he'd noticed it—his strength steadier, his movements more versatile. The training with Korran had paid off, and the basics from Usopp's aim and Shinji Ikari's grit lingered in his muscles. He flexed his arm, feeling the faint tingle of mana—maybe 3.0 now—and a grin crept onto his face. He was better than before.
Tomorrow marked the start of summer vacation, and Leo's mind was set. He'd head north—known as the most famous region for dungeons and hunters. Rumors swirled of rich mana cores, rare relics, and challenges that could forge a name. "North it is," he muttered, tucking the card into his pocket. The idea sparked a mix of excitement and nerves, but the ring's potential drove him. Speaking of which, today marked the three-day cycle the voice had mentioned. His ring, resting on the bedside table, would recharge for one use. He picked it up, its dull surface warming slightly under his touch. "One shot tomorrow," he said to himself. "Gotta make it count."
For now, though, he'd train alone. No Academy, no Korran—just him and the skills he'd built. He stood, stretching his sore limbs, and cleared a space in the cramped room. "Let's see what I've got," he said, starting with push-ups. His arms trembled at first, but he pushed through, counting aloud. "One, two, three…" By twenty, sweat beaded on his forehead, but he kept going, hitting thirty. "Not bad," he panted, recalling Shinji's stubborn endurance.
Next, he grabbed a broom handle, mimicking a staff. He pictured Usopp's slingshot stance, adjusting his grip. "Aim true," he whispered, swinging the handle in slow arcs. He tossed a balled-up sock across the room, trying to strike it mid-air. The first try missed, the sock thudding against the wall. "Come on, focus!" he scolded himself. The second toss hit, the handle connecting with a soft smack. "There we go!" he cheered, repeating the drill, his aim sharpening with each attempt.
After an hour, he switched to meditation. He sat cross-legged, breathing deep as Korran had taught. "In, out, feel the mana," he murmured. His mind wandered to the north—dungeons, danger, opportunity—but he pulled it back, focusing inward. A faint tingle spread through him, his mana creeping to 3.2. "Getting there," he said, opening his eyes. The ring glowed briefly, confirming its recharge. "One use ready," he noted, a thrill running through him.
He spent the evening practicing combat moves, shadowboxing in the tight space. "Block, strike, move," he chanted, dodging imaginary blows. His footwork improved, a blend of Shinji's defensive stance and his own grit. By 10:00 PM, he was drenched in sweat, but satisfied. "North's gonna test me," he said, collapsing onto the mattress. "But I'm ready—or I will be." The ring sat beside him, a silent partner, its power a secret fuel for the journey ahead