Enlightenment in the Stone Chamber, Paths of Their Own

The stone chamber was frighteningly quiet, with nothing but a few breaths of varying depth breaking the silence.

Leorio had long since grown restless. He leaned against the wall, his legs stretched far out in front of him, muttering, "How much longer... This is killing me. Locked up in this godforsaken place, I'm practically growing mold."

He scratched his head, then shifted positions, unable to get comfortable no matter what he did. For someone as restless as him, fifty hours of confinement was the cruelest punishment imaginable.

Kurapika sat not far from him, his arms folded and his head lowered, golden strands of hair falling over his face.

No one knew what he was thinking, but the cold, sorrowful air surrounding him kept even Leorio from disturbing him.

He was like a frozen volcano, calm on the surface but seething with magma within.

The other side of the stone chamber presented an entirely different scene.

Lin Yan sat cross-legged in the shadows of the farthest corner, as motionless as a stone statue.

His consciousness had sunk completely into his body.

Everything outside him-Leorio's complaints, Kurapika's silence, even the damp chill seeping from the walls-had faded away.

Through his "inner sight," he saw the white, rice-grain-sized dantian embryo in his lower dantian slowly rotating in a steady rhythm.

Each rotation set a stream of pure true qi flowing along a specific route through his meridians.

Like a gentle brook, the true qi flowed out from his dantian, passed through the Huiyin point, and traveled up the Governing Vessel along his spine, crossing barrier after barrier until it reached the Baihui point at the crown of his head.

Then it descended from the front of his crown, following the Conception Vessel down the front of his body, passing through his throat, chest, and abdomen before flowing back into his dantian.

This was Taoism's most basic "microcosmic orbit."

Although he had won his fight against Johns in the Trick Tower, forcibly driving his still-unstable dantian embryo had put considerable strain on his meridians, leaving numerous tiny hidden injuries.

Now, as true qi washed through them again and again, those damaged areas were gradually repaired and strengthened, like parched earth nourished by spring rain.

Each completed circuit felt so soothing that he wanted to sigh. The warmth radiating from within dispelled the stone chamber's chill and eased his mental fatigue.

He could clearly "see" that, as the dantian embryo rotated, it was not only repairing his body but also drawing a subtler, more fundamental energy from the surrounding void. The embryo absorbed and transformed that energy into strands of even purer true qi, becoming more solid and brighter itself.

This was "cultivation."

Dull and tedious, it demanded absolute patience and focus.

Yet the tangible sense of his very existence rising to a higher level with each tiny improvement was something no external thrill could match.

Not far from Lin Yan, Killua also sat cross-legged, imitating his posture with his eyes tightly shut.

But he was nowhere near as settled as Lin Yan.

During his earlier attempts, he had already discovered that this breathing method could speed up his physical recovery. Now, however, he was in this utterly silent, oppressive stone chamber.

He kept wanting to take it a step further-to grasp the elusive "qi" Lin Yan had described.

"Out... in... out... in..."

Killua's brow furrowed slightly as he worked to control his breathing, trying to make it as deep and long as Lin Yan's.

But this was easier said than done. Matching it exactly was far too difficult.

He tried slowing his breathing, only for his chest to feel tight before long, leaving him uncomfortably short of air;

when he tried breathing more deeply, his belly felt painfully bloated instead.

Damn it! How does he do this? Killua cursed irritably to himself.

Ever since childhood, his training had focused on making his body faster, stronger, and deadlier. His body was his weapon, and his control over every muscle and nerve had reached its utmost limit.

Now, however, he discovered that he knew nothing about his body's "interior."

He could not grasp the sensation Lin Yan had described at all-the feeling of guiding "qi" through his body.

All he could feel was his heartbeat, the blood flowing through his vessels, and the rise and fall of his lungs.

And "qi"? What even was that?

Give up?

The instant that thought surfaced, he stamped it out.

He secretly opened one eye, glanced at Lin Yan, then looked at Gon, who was sleeping like a log on the other side.

A guy who'd carved out a strange path entirely on his own.

A monster who didn't have to do anything, who could get stronger even in his sleep.

And me?

The Zoldyck Family's once-in-a-century genius?

Right now, I look more like an idiot who doesn't know a thing.

One more try!

Killua gritted his teeth and closed his eyes again.

He abandoned his search for that elusive "qi" and focused all his attention on breathing itself.

Instead of deliberately controlling it, he tried to "feel" it.

He felt the cool air entering through his nose.

He felt his chest slowly expand, then slowly contract.

He felt the brief pause between each breath.

He applied the techniques from his assassin training for lying in wait and suppressing his presence.

Gradually, his heart, which had been racing with frustration, settled into a steady rhythm.

Without his even noticing, his breathing really did become a little deeper and longer than before.

Though he was still far from Lin Yan's level, he rediscovered the feeling he had experienced when imitating Lin Yan earlier. With each breath, his physical fatigue faded bit by bit, and his mind became clearer and calmer than ever.

Oh? This is kind of interesting...

Killua murmured inwardly, the corners of his mouth lifting despite himself, though he quickly forced them back down.

He would never admit that this strange way of sitting in meditation actually felt pretty good.

Naturally, Kurapika had noticed the state of all three of them.

He pulled himself free of his thoughts and raised his head, a trace of bewilderment in his scarlet eyes.

He saw that Leorio had grown so bored he had started counting the cracks between the stones in the wall.

Then he looked at those three strange fellows.

Gon was sleeping so soundly that he was almost drooling, yet Kurapika could sense that his aura had not weakened with sleep. Instead, it was like a gentle flame, burning brighter and brighter.

Killua's eyes were closed, his brow alternately relaxing and tightening as though he were struggling with something. Yet the sharp, icy edge of an assassin had indeed faded considerably from his presence, replaced by a hint of stillness.

Finally, there was Lin Yan.

He was like a stone, one that had taken root right there. His presence was almost imperceptible.

Had Kurapika not been looking with his own eyes, he might even have thought that corner was empty.

The feeling was deeply unsettling.

We're all trapped here, so why do those three seem to have found ways to enjoy themselves?

Kurapika lowered his head again and clenched his fists.

The horrific slaughter of his people surfaced in his mind once more, along with those hollow sockets from which their eyes had been gouged.

The flames of anger and hatred burned through his heart again.

He knew those flames gave him strength, but they were also consuming him.

In the Trick Tower, he had burned away his own life without hesitation for the sake of victory.

In that moment, he had felt stronger than ever before, but he had also felt an emptiness unlike anything he had known.

If the price of power is self-destruction, what will be left after revenge?

He did not know.

He felt lost. He felt anguish.

He looked at his hands, trembling slightly with anger, then at Lin Yan, who had peacefully entered samadhi on the other side.

That serenity was what he craved most at this moment, yet it was also what lay farthest beyond his reach.

Perhaps...

After a long inner struggle, a thought slowly took shape.

Perhaps I could ask Lin Yan.

Perhaps this mysterious companion, who always managed to do things beyond all reason, could give me an answer.

He took a deep breath, stood up, and slowly moved toward that quiet corner.