Chapter Four
Three days after the warehouse incident, sleep remained elusive.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that Enhancer on his knees. Blood pooling beneath him. The creature I had summoned tearing into him with surgical precision. And worst of all, I remembered the satisfaction I'd felt watching it happen.
Father was pleased with the results. The information I'd extracted led to a complete dismantling of the Hao Family's operations in our territory. Three warehouses raided, millions in contraband seized, two traitors within our own organization eliminated. Viktor had congratulated me personally. The other capos now looked at me differently. With respect, yes, but also with something that looked like fear.
Part of me felt good about that. The darker part of me that was learning to survive in this world.
But there was a problem with my ability.
I had tried to summon another Predator twice since that night. Once in the training room, once alone in my quarters. Both times, the same thing happened. My aura would turn black, pool around my feet like spilled ink, and then simply fade away. Like trying to start an engine with no fuel.
At first, I blamed exhaustion. Awakening Nen and immediately using it in real combat had been reckless. Maybe my body just needed time to recover.
But three full days had passed. I felt fine physically. My aura flowed smoothly when I practiced Ten and Ren. Yet Predator remained stubbornly dormant.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my hands. The expensive rings Regis wore caught the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. Gold. Platinum. Each one worth more than most people earned in a year. Symbols of wealth that suddenly felt meaningless.
What good was money in a world where people could conjure chains from nothing or punch through solid steel?
I needed to understand why Predator wasn't working. More than that, I needed to make it stronger.
The estate library took up half of the forty-second floor. Massive windows offered views of Yorknew City spreading out endlessly below, a jungle of skyscrapers and neon that shouldn't exist outside of fiction. But it did exist. This was my reality now.
Most of the library existed for appearance. Rare books locked behind glass that nobody read. Ancient manuscripts Father had stolen or bought from desperate sellers. The kind of collection designed to impress visitors with culture and refinement.
But there was a section in the back that actually got used.
I had discovered it two days ago. A locked cabinet, key hidden in Regis's desk, containing books that showed wear from actual reading. Files on rival crime families. Blackmail material. And beneath all that, a small collection of texts about Nen.
Most were in Japanese or Chinese. A few in languages I only partially understood. But Regis's education had been expensive and thorough. I could read them all well enough.
I spread several books across the reading table now, along with notes I'd been compiling. My handwriting looked different from what I remembered. Sharper, more aggressive. Regis's personality bleeding through into even this small detail.
One passage kept drawing my attention. I'd marked the page with a torn piece of notebook paper:
"The power of Hatsu is not determined solely by the user's raw aura. It grows stronger in proportion to the restrictions placed upon it. The greater the limitation, the greater the reward. This is the fundamental law of Nen contracts."
I'd known this intellectually. It was a core concept in the series. Kurapika's Chain Jail could only be used on the Phantom Troupe, with death as the penalty for breaking that rule. That restriction made the chains powerful enough to neutralize even the strongest Troupe members. Gon's transformation against Pitou had traded his entire future for overwhelming power in a single moment.
Extreme examples, but they proved the principle.
Predator had no such restrictions. Not conscious ones, anyway.
I could theoretically use it on anyone, anywhere, as long as I gathered enough information about them. The only costs were the aura expenditure and whatever cooldown period the ability naturally imposed. Which meant the ability was probably operating at a fraction of its potential strength.
What if I changed that? What if I imposed restrictions deliberately?
The thought made my heart beat faster. Not quite fear. More like anticipation.
Adding restrictions after awakening an ability was dangerous. You were essentially rewriting a contract with yourself. Nen responded to intent, to willpower, to genuine commitment. Half measures and clever loopholes wouldn't work. If you weren't completely serious, the ability might reject the changes entirely. Or worse, it might twist them into something you didn't intend.
But I'd seen what Predator could do even in its unrestricted state. That serpentine nightmare dismantling a trained fighter in minutes. Imagine what it could become with proper limitations strengthening it.
I pulled out a fresh notebook and started writing.
PROPOSED RESTRICTIONS FOR PREDATOR
Restriction One: Hostile Intent Only
I underlined this twice. It felt fundamental to what the ability should be.
Predator could only manifest against targets who genuinely threatened me. People actively trying to kill or seriously harm me. People radiating hostile intent that I could sense through their aura. Not just anyone I disliked or wanted information from. Only real threats.
This restriction mattered because it removed my ability to strike first in many situations. I would have to wait until someone attacked or clearly revealed their intention to hurt me. In a world where fights often ended in seconds, where the first strike frequently decided everything, that was a genuine disadvantage.
But the trade-off would be worth it. This restriction would prove I understood Predator's true nature as a defensive counter-ability, not a tool for casual violence or conquest. Accepting that limitation should strengthen everything else about the ability.
Restriction Two: Twenty-Four Hour Time Limit
The beasts already dissolved after twenty-four hours. That was built into the ability's basic structure. But making it an official restriction, stating it clearly as part of the contract, would reinforce the limitation. In exchange, the beasts might become more powerful during the time they existed.
Restriction Three: Information Dependency
The beast's strength scaled with the quality of information I gathered. I'd experienced this instinctively during the warehouse fight. The more I knew about the Enhancer, his style, his personality, his weaknesses, the better Predator could counter him.
Making this an official restriction meant that insufficient data would produce weak manifestations. Maybe even useless ones. It would encourage patience, careful research, and thorough intelligence gathering. No more rushing in blind.
I stared at the three restrictions. They were solid. Meaningful. They would definitely boost Predator's effectiveness.
But there was something else. Something that had been nagging at me since the warehouse.
When the Predator beast had fought the Enhancer, I'd felt something strange. The creature wasn't just attacking. It was learning. Adapting. Understanding its target on a level I couldn't quite explain. And after the fight, after the beast dissolved back into my aura, something had changed inside me. Like a door had opened in my mind.
What if that was part of the ability's deeper mechanics? What if defeating enemies didn't just gather information, it gave me something more tangible?
My pen moved across the page almost on its own.
REWARD CLAUSE: INHERITED ABILITY
Upon successfully defeating or neutralizing a target, I would gain one random ability from the Predator beast itself. Not from the enemy. Not their techniques or fighting style. But from the creature I had created.
Each Predator manifested differently based on what it needed to counter its target. That serpentine form with multiple whip-like limbs had been perfect for overwhelming the Enhancer's focused offense. A different enemy would produce a different beast with different capabilities.
And when the beast dissolved, one of those capabilities would transfer to me permanently. Randomly selected. Beyond my control.
The randomness was important. It meant I couldn't game the system by deliberately creating beasts with specific abilities I wanted. Each fight would give me something unexpected. Something I'd have to learn to use and integrate into my own fighting style.
Over time, I would accumulate these fragments. Not becoming a copy of anyone else, but building something unique from the pieces my Predators left behind.
But restrictions and rewards needed balance. Nen contracts demanded it. Risk for power. Price for strength.
What was I willing to sacrifice?
I sat there for a long time, pen hovering over the page. The smart play would be a moderate penalty. Maybe I couldn't use Nen for a week if I broke the rules. Or I'd take serious damage. Something painful but survivable.
But the strongest restrictions in the series had never been moderate. Kurapika hadn't gone halfway. Neither had Gon. They'd bet everything on their commitments.
My hand moved across the page, writing words that made my stomach clench.
PENALTY: If I use Predator maliciously against someone who poses no genuine threat to me, I will lose the ability to use Nen entirely and permanently.
I stared at what I'd written. This was insane. I was gambling my only real advantage in this world. The one tool that might let me survive the Phantom Troupe, the Chimera Ants, all the nightmares I knew were coming. One mistake in judgment about someone's intentions, and I'd be helpless forever.
But that was exactly what made it powerful.
The uncertainty. The absolute commitment. The proof that I genuinely meant to use this ability responsibly.
Nen responded to resolve. To putting everything on the line. Half measures produced half results.
I closed the notebook and stood. My legs felt unsteady. When had I last eaten? When had I last slept properly? The past three days had been consumed by research and failed attempts to understand my ability.
Time to commit.
I returned to the private training room where I'd first awakened my Nen. The same reinforced walls. The same drains in the floor that had probably seen more violence than I wanted to imagine. Empty now. Silent.
I locked the door and walked to the center of the room.
My aura came easily now. Three days of constant practice had given me decent control over the basics. The black-tinged energy wrapped around me like a second skin, familiar yet still strange.
This was the point of no return.
I took a deep breath and spoke the words aloud, making them real.
"Predator can only manifest against targets with genuine hostile intent toward me. Anyone actively trying to kill me or seriously harm me."
The air pressure shifted slightly. I continued.
"The beasts exist for exactly twenty-four hours before dissolving. No exceptions."
My voice grew stronger.
"Their power scales directly with the information I gather. Poor information produces weak beasts."
The black aura around me began to pulse in rhythm with my words.
"In exchange, I gain one random ability from each Predator beast I create after successfully defeating its target."
Now came the hard part. The commitment that would seal this contract or shatter it.
"If I violate these rules, if I use Predator against someone who isn't truly hostile toward me, I lose Nen completely. Forever. No recovery. No second chances."
The moment I finished speaking, everything changed.
Invisible pressure slammed into me from every direction. My aura didn't just pulse anymore. It convulsed, turning darker and denser, solidifying into something that felt almost physical. I gasped and dropped to one knee as phantom chains wrapped around my core, sinking deep into places I didn't know existed inside myself.
It felt like being crushed and expanded at the same time. Like every cell in my body was being rewritten according to rules I'd chosen but could never unchosen.
This was real. I had just made a contract with myself, with Nen, with whatever fundamental force governed this power.
The pressure built until I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except endure.
Then it released.
I collapsed forward, catching myself on my hands. Sweat poured off me, soaking through my shirt. My heart hammered like it was trying to escape my chest. For several long moments, I just focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
But I could feel the difference.
Predator wasn't just an ability anymore. It was a contract, sealed with my willpower, bound by restrictions that would hold until I broke them or died. The weight of it sat in my chest like a second heartbeat, constant and undeniable.
And in exchange, something else had changed.
I reached into my memory of the warehouse fight. The Predator beast dissolving back into shadow after the Enhancer had fled. That moment when something had transferred from it to me.
The knowledge surfaced now, clear and complete.
Not the Enhancer's Ko technique. That would have been learning from the enemy. Instead, I'd gained something from the beast itself. One of its abilities, selected randomly when it dissolved.
Enhanced flexibility.
The Predator had been serpentine, able to bend and twist in ways no normal creature could. When it dissolved, that aspect had transferred to me. Not to the same extreme degree the beast possessed, but noticeably. My joints felt looser. My spine more flexible. I could move in ways that should have been uncomfortable but somehow weren't.
It wasn't a combat technique. It wasn't even particularly powerful. But it was mine now. A permanent addition that would make me slightly harder to pin down, slightly more evasive.
I stood slowly, testing this new flexibility. My body moved differently. More fluidly.
"It actually worked," I whispered to the empty room.
A knock at the door made me flinch.
"Young Master Regis?" Marco's voice, muffled through the reinforced door. "Your father wants to see you. Something about preparations for the Underground Auction."
The Underground Auction. In two years, the Phantom Troupe would massacre everyone there. Father would die alongside the other Dons. But right now, in 1997, it was just another criminal event. Another opportunity for power and profit.
"I'll be there in five minutes," I called back.
His footsteps retreated down the corridor.
I let my aura fade and gathered my notes. My body felt different now. Not just the flexibility. Everything felt more controlled, more purposeful, bound by rules I'd imposed on myself.
Predator was stronger now. I knew it instinctively. But it also had limits I absolutely could not cross without destroying myself.
Fair trade.
As I headed toward Father's office, one thought kept circling through my mind.
Two years until the Hunter Exam. Two years to master this upgraded ability. Two years to gather information on every major threat in this world.
The Phantom Troupe had thirteen members. If I could learn about each one, their abilities, their personalities, their weaknesses, I could create Predators specifically designed to counter them. And each time I succeeded, I'd gain something random from those beasts. Abilities that would accumulate over time, making me stronger in unpredictable ways.
Maybe I could change the story. Maybe I could survive.
Or maybe I was just a nineteen-year-old kid playing with power he didn't understand, one mistake away from losing everything.
Only time would tell.
The strategy room doors loomed ahead. I pushed them open and stepped inside to face whatever Father wanted.