Morning sunlight slanted through a gap in the curtains that had not been fully drawn, falling squarely across Odin's face.
"Ding-dong-"
An electronic notification chimed crisply.
He threw back the covers and sat up, his messy hair sticking out in every direction.
The room was quiet, apart from the occasional sound of traffic on the distant street outside.
After months of intense training, his body had grown accustomed to the strain. Suddenly easing off felt strange, and it had affected his sleep a little, too.
Odin rubbed his eyes and reached for the phone on his bedside table.
The screen was lit up, showing a new email.
The sender's address was a string of seemingly garbled characters.
He stared at it for a moment and nearly dismissed it as spam.
A few seconds later, realization struck. Odin unlocked the screen and opened the email.
The message was short-so short that he wondered whether it had been sent by mistake.
Arrive in Kent City within three days.
Odin stared at the line and blinked.
"That's it?"
He scrolled down again. There were no attachments, no images, no links, not even a signature.
The whole email was as bare as a blank sheet of paper, apart from that single instruction-if it could even be called an instruction.
He set down his phone, leaned against the headboard, and stared at the ceiling.
It was still the same room, complete with a rooftop terrace.
The bookshelf was packed with books on mechanics, anatomy, and nutrition.
When he had moved in a few months ago, the place had been empty. Now it was filled with signs of his life here.
Outside the window, the towering Heavens Arena remained unmistakable, its metal surface gleaming in the morning light.
He tossed aside the covers and got out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor, then walked to the window and pulled open the curtains.
Vehicles moved along the distant street, and he heard a breakfast cart rolling past downstairs. The sky was a clear, pale blue, with very few clouds.
"Kent City..." Odin murmured the name.
He knew the place.
More precisely, he "remembered" it.
It was the starting point of the 287th hunter exam in Hunter x Hunter.
The city where the protagonists, Gon and Killua, gathered with the others.
In the story, applicants had to find their own way to the exam entrance-a barbecue restaurant-then give the password and take an elevator down into an underground tunnel.
The email gave only the city's name, with no exact location or directions, let alone any mention of transportation.
"So the exam started the moment I got the email," Odin muttered.
He walked back to the bed, picked up his phone again, opened the browser, and typed in "transportation to Kent City."
A flood of search results appeared.
There were three regular options-airships, trains, and long-distance buses-along with all sorts of dubious unlicensed rides.
Prices ranged from a few thousand Jenny to several hundred thousand, while travel times ranged from a few hours to more than ten.
Odin studied the screen for a while, then searched for "fastest route from Heavens Arena to Kent City."
The result appeared: a direct airship flight, twelve hours, fare of fifty thousand Jenny.
"Fifty thousand..." Odin nodded. "Not bad."
Odin put down his phone and stretched, his joints giving faint clicks.
He went to the wardrobe and changed into a dark gray athletic jacket, black pants, and a light-colored T-shirt.
Then he opened a drawer containing a few odds and ends-a wallet, keys, a charger, and a handgun.
He had "taken" the handgun from the man in the suit during that encounter in the alley.
Odin picked it up and hefted it.
The metal casing was cold, and its weight felt manageable.
He checked the magazine-full, with twelve rounds.
He stared at the gun for a few seconds, then put it back and closed the drawer.
"Can't take it," he said to himself.
Weapons were allowed in the hunter exam, but the gun would be confiscated at the airport if he brought it.
Besides, his current fighting style did not require a gun.
He entered the living room, where his training equipment still occupied a corner. Dumbbells and kettlebells sat neatly together, a jump rope hung from a wall hook, and a rolled-up exercise mat leaned against the wall.
He glanced over them, then walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
It was stuffed with food-various meats, vegetables, fruit, milk, and a few bottles of energy drinks.
These had been his main sources of fuel over the past few months.
Odin took out a carton of milk, poured some into a cup, and put it in the microwave to heat.
While he waited, he opened another drawer and took out a waist pack.
It was black, made of sturdy canvas.
Inside were the things he had prepared beforehand.
A small stack of cash, roughly one million Jenny.
A bankbook for the account holding most of his prize money.
A charging cable for his phone.
A small box of first-aid supplies-adhesive bandages, antiseptic cotton, and painkillers.
A few compressed biscuits and two small bottles of water.
A multifunction pocketknife.
There was not much, but everything was useful.
The microwave dinged.
Odin took out the milk and had a sip, the warm liquid sliding down his throat. He walked over to the bookshelf as he drank, his gaze passing over the books.
Human Anatomy and Movement Mechanics, Advanced Physics: Mechanics, Energy Metabolism and Nutrition...
He pulled out A Survey of the World's Fighting Styles and leafed through it. The pages were covered in his notes-techniques for generating power, key points on footwork, and analyses of defensive stances.
The edges of the pages were slightly curled, showing how often he had read it.
Odin closed the book and returned it to the shelf.
Then he walked to the corner, crouched down, and dug a backpack out of a pile of miscellaneous things.
The backpack was dark blue. It was not particularly large, but it had enough room for whatever would not fit in his waist pack.
He tucked the waist pack into the backpack, then added a few changes of clothes, a spare pair of athletic shoes, a water bottle, and anything else he could think of, stuffing it full.
Once he was done, Odin stood in the middle of the room and looked around.
Sunlight now flooded the room, making it bright, with dust drifting through the shafts of light.
Everything was quiet, apart from the faint sounds coming from the distant street.
He suddenly remembered moving in two months earlier-the empty room, the unfamiliar city, and no idea what the future held.
Now the room was full of belongings, and he had a rough idea of what he would face next.
"Time to go."
Odin shouldered his backpack, walked to the doorway, and glanced back at the room.
This part felt much like heading home from college for the holidays.
He closed the door and went downstairs.
The stairwell was quiet, with only his own footsteps breaking the silence.
Although the email said three days, Odin thought it would be better to arrive early and prepare.
He left the apartment building and stood by the street.
The morning air was crisp, with a slight chill.
There were few pedestrians. A handful of office workers hurried past, and the smell of breakfast drifted over from the food stalls.
Odin looked up at the tower of Heavens Arena, then headed toward the airport.
Walking all the way there was unrealistic. It was too far.
He hailed a taxi by the roadside, opened the door, and got in.
"Where to?" asked the middle-aged driver without turning around.
"The airport."
The car started and pulled into traffic.
Odin leaned back in his seat, watching the streets slide past outside.
Tall buildings, shops, pedestrians, and vehicles flashed by one after another.
"Off on a trip, young man?" the driver suddenly asked.
"Something like that."
"On your own?"
"Yeah."
"It's good for young people to get out and see more," the driver said with a smile. "My son's about your age. He spends all day holed up at home playing games. Never listens when I tell him off."
Odin did not respond. He just kept looking out the window.
The car passed through the commercial district, where colorful signs lined the storefronts.
Everything was perfectly ordinary.
Twenty minutes later, the taxi stopped at the airport entrance.
Odin paid, got out, shouldered his backpack, and walked into the terminal.
The airport was fairly crowded. Flight announcements played over the speakers as travelers came and went, pulling their luggage.
Departure and arrival information scrolled across the electronic display.
Odin found the ticket counter, staffed by a young woman wearing a practiced smile.
"One airship ticket to Kent City. The earliest flight available."
The attendant looked up at him and tapped a few keys on her computer. "The earliest flight is at one this afternoon. The fare is fifty thousand Jenny. Would you like me to book it for you?"
"Yes."
Odin took five banknotes from his wallet and handed them over.
The attendant accepted the money, carefully checked it, and soon handed Odin his airship ticket.
"Please wait in the departure lounge."
"Thank you."
Before you continue