Power Beyond the Bowstring

Tower City's spring wind carried a faint warmth and the grit of sand, stirring up a pale yellow haze of dust over the abandoned lot beside the old cable factory in the west of the city. Toward evening, sunlight filtered through sparse tree shadows in mottled patches, falling upon several target rings drawn on the ground in white powder.

Ryan stood atop a broken slab of concrete fifteen meters away, holding a slingshot in his left hand as his right slowly drew back the rubber bands. He carefully set a thumb-sized steel ball into the center of the pouch. He did not release it at once, instead adjusting every millimeter of the angle with a sculptor's precision—slight wrist adjustments, locked elbow angle, shoulders drawn in, center of gravity tilted faintly forward at the waist.

Breathing, wind direction, tension, rebound angle—everything was calculated.

"Whoosh."

The steel ball cut through the air, tracing a silent yet precise arc—then came a crisp crack as it struck the upper-left corner of the second target ring.

He showed no delight. He simply lowered the slingshot, walked over, and added another chalk mark outside the ring.

This was already his eighty-first shot of the day.

He was twelve years old and nearly 1.7 meters tall, with broad shoulders and limbs proportioned almost like an adult's. His daily training intensity had long surpassed that of ordinary student athletes several times over. His reflexes and muscle memory had already reached the level of a "combat-ready fighter."

But he understood—close combat was not enough.

Close-quarters combat was certainly effective, but it was always limited by distance, approach routes, reaction delays, and risk density.

To survive in the Hunter world, he had to build an "all-range attack structure"—a coordinated framework of long-range, mid-range, and close combat.

And the first medium he chose for long-range combat was—the slingshot.

It was portable, discreet, legal, and unlikely to arouse suspicion. More importantly, its demands for precision and rhythm were nearly identical to the practical logic of using a Conjuration weapon.

He had saved up the money for the slingshot and steel balls by cutting back on lunches for three months.

He had not chosen a toy model. Instead, he had picked the one closest to a practical combat model from an online shop selling "personal target-shooting equipment"—hard rubber bands, an aluminum alloy frame, and precise anchor-point grooves. Every day, he wrapped it in cloth and hid it at the bottom of his backpack, then came to this wasteland to train after school.

At first, he could only hit the target rings within seven meters.

Half a month later, his consistent range extended to ten meters. Another month after that, he could shatter the neck of a glass bottle from fifteen meters away, even striking moving cans from an angled slope with a five-meter height difference.

He wrote in his notebook:

[Long-Range Training System · Basic Shooting Model]

Target Structure:

Weapon: Slingshot (handheld central-control type)

Trajectory: Short Arc × Medium Arc × Low Flat Trajectory

Training Coordinates: 4 m / 8 m / 12 m / 15 m / 20° Angled Shot

Core Metrics:

Hit Rate × Firing Rate Stability × Recovery Efficiency × Muscle Fatigue Threshold

Tactical Extensions:

Long-range attacks are not merely for "injuring the enemy," but for "seizing the initiative × disrupting intelligence × forcing space."

→ Trajectory planning can be used to "block positions" and "draw out enemies"

→ Precision can be used to "build cooperative combat anchor points"

→ Shot rhythm can be used for "timed detonation × disrupting judgment"

He began defining the meaning of long-range firing through "tactical variables," rather than treating it as mere output.

Late one night, as he reviewed his shooting paths in meditation, an image suddenly emerged in his mind—

A silver-gray heavy shortbow appeared naturally beneath a shroud of Nen. Its string was like a line of stars, its arrowheads like light, its projectiles like spirits.

He knew it had not yet been conjured.

But this was the first intersection between "tactical paths × Nen extension × imagined equipment."

He softly spoke a phrase:

"Conjuration · Firearm Basic Model."

He had already set foot on this path, and slingshot training was the first drawing of the string before pulling the trigger.

The wind over the empty lot quieted somewhat. The sun sank between the gaps of the buildings, leaving only a streak of orange-red light that cast long, slanted shadows across the ground. Training entered its final stage. Rather than ending his shooting as usual, Ryan took out a second set of smaller-caliber steel balls and switched to a lightweight rapid-fire slingshot.

This was the next round of training he had designed based on practical combat logic:

[Dynamic Multi-Target Interference Shooting × Multi-Projectile Reaction Path Test]

He set up five movable targets outside the abandoned building, using simple springs and rubber bands to control their irregular swaying. He also deliberately introduced wind deviation and angles of light interference. The goal was not to "hit," but to create effective deterrence and force retreat routes amid chaos.

In the Hunter world, real combat was never about "both sides standing still to compare speed, accuracy, and ruthlessness." It was about precisely breaking in amid terrain, cover, sightlines, and disrupted rhythm, then using the situation to secure victory.

Ryan understood that what he wanted was not merely accurate hits, but—control over the battlefield's spatial tension, psychological pressure, and enemy misjudgment.

He took a deep breath, pushed off with his toes, and bent like a drawn bow.

"Whoosh—"

The first steel ball flew out, ricocheted off a concrete wall at an angle, and bounced into the steel beams, producing a clang of metal;

The second immediately skimmed the edge of a crossbeam, throwing off faint sparks before landing precisely one centimeter in front of the spring-loaded canister at the rear left, making the target sway backward;

He shifted sideways with the momentum and fired three more shots in rapid succession, forcing the "enemy shape" on the other side into a passive state of mutual obstruction—

This was not simple shooting.

It was a combined fighting method of positioning, interference, guidance, psychological pre-pressure, and chained tactical reactions.

In just eight seconds, he completed seven shots. Five struck tactical points, while the errors of the other two remained within tolerance. He successfully compressed one-third of the training ground into an "unusable route zone" for the enemy.

After landing, he did not straighten up. Instead, he used his prone, motionless position to conduct one final "simulated assassination angle review."

He called this training:

[Long-Range Suppression Combat Simulation · Seventh Stage]

That night, after returning to his room, he did not begin meditating immediately. He first took out his notebook and marked every stage of the training process, filing them by "tactical purpose" and "battlefield evolution logic."

He drew a simple sketch of the combat zone:

Red lines marked "enemy sightline trajectories";

Black dots marked "live-fire interference points";

Blue circles marked "route-forcing nodes";

Gray sections represented the "battlefield compression fan zone."

This had already gone far beyond a boy practicing with toys. It was a foundational expression of understanding approaching the Hunter world's practical combat system of "Conjuration × Manipulation × tactical structure linkage."

Afterward, he entered meditation.

Today, he did not forcibly think about "Conjuration." Instead, he emptied his mind and allowed his body to naturally review the training process.

But as his consciousness sank into the still point at its center, he suddenly felt—

A threadlike heat flowed through his palms, his knuckles tensed and trembled faintly, as though a force beyond muscular control was rising from within.

It was an unformed image, blurred and transparent, yet possessing weight, speed, coldness, and a sense of oppression.

He "saw" something: the outline of a silver-gray gun crossbow emerging. Its structure was incomplete, yet it possessed clear strings and anchor points. Its ammunition chamber was like an empty shell within the composition of his consciousness, not yet filled with Nen.

This was no longer fantasy. It was—the "prototype circuit of a Conjuration Nen entity."

Ryan did not try to control it. He merely quietly observed the reaction of this image within his Nen:

When he recalled a missed shot during training, it trembled softly;

When he remembered changes in suppression routes, it bent slightly;

When he thought, How will I fire it next? it flickered half an inch, like light beneath water.

It was not a weapon.

It was the concrete expression of "my" will in battle.

This was the essence of Conjuration.

He opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and wrote:

[First Outline Feedback of the Nen-Body Prototype]

Type: Conjuration × Projection-oriented (not yet determined)

Structural Circuit: Short crossbow shell × mental string-drawing × Nen capacity slot present × output port unstable

Trigger Method:

Non-active Nen gathering

Forms through self-sensed feedback while mentally empty after tactical training

Predicted Conclusion:

The channel for Nen Conjuration has opened; the entity still lacks stable support

If triggered under the simultaneous conditions of "real combat × Nen pressure × mental focus," it may be possible to form a complete conjured entity for a short time for the first time

At that moment, he understood for the first time:

A true Hunter's weapon was not "something acquired," but "something drawn from the heart."

Nen was not at his fingertips, nor was it upon his enemy.

It was in every judgment he made, every choice he took, and every moment before he fired a steel ball—

In that instant when he thought, I'm going to strike.