The wind cut across the road without mercy.
Two carriages moved slowly forward behind tired horses, and two men rode beside them with their heads lowered against the cold.
The younger one pulled his coat tighter and exhaled sharply.
"This cold is unbearable. It shouldn't be like this. Not here."
The older man didn't answer right away. A long grey beard reached his chest, and his eyes were narrowed as he tried to understand why it was snowing at all.
"Zaban City doesn't get snow," he said at last. "Not like this."
The younger man glanced at the sky, then looked back over his shoulder.
"Do you think they followed us? Artek's people?"
The older man shook his head slowly.
"No. If they had, we'd already know. They don't hide well. And they certainly aren't scared of us."
The younger man nodded, though the tension stayed in his shoulders.
Artek's gang was small but ruthless. They controlled parts of Zaban City through fear and quick violence, and anyone who crossed them usually paid for it.
The carriages creaked on.
Inside the second one, wrapped in thick cloth and fur, sat a young man with dark hair and calm eyes. He said nothing and only listened.
His name was Conrad.
He had joined them two days earlier, deep in the wilderness. No one knew where he came from. He had simply appeared on the road, walking alone through the cold as if it didn't bother him, and asked for a ride to Zaban City, offering work or coin in return.
The older man had hesitated, but something about Conrad had seemed harmless.
The younger rider wasn't convinced. He leaned closer to the older man.
"What about him? The boy."
The older man glanced back at the carriages, his eyes lingering on the second.
"Conrad," the younger man said. "That's what he called himself."
"Yes. Him."
"You don't think he has anything to do with Artek, do you?"
"No. Artek doesn't recruit boys like that."
"How do you know?"
"Because Artek's men talk too much. That one barely talks at all."
The younger man thought it over.
"Still. He appeared out of nowhere."
"So did the snow," the older man replied.
They rode in silence for a few moments before the younger man spoke again.
"What happens when we reach Zaban City?"
"He leaves," the older man said firmly.
"Just like that?"
"He has no ties to us and no reason to stay."
"And if he asks to come along?"
"Then we say no."
Inside the carriage, Conrad had heard every word.
He thought the two men's reactions were normal. In a world like this, caution came first. Trust was earned slowly and often lost quickly, and in their place he would have thought the same.
He had noticed the three women in the first carriage earlier, their voices low. Traders, most likely, or migrants, looking for safety through proximity. That idea existed in every world.
Soon the carriages reached the entrance of Zaban City. Conrad thanked his companions, left them, and took a deep breath.
He kept his pace steady as he walked through the snow-covered streets, organizing his thoughts.
Nothing in the anime suggested snow here, just as the old man said. But here I am, and here it is.
He couldn't help a slight smile.
He was not from this world, and the fact still felt strange. He was from Earth, a twenty-two-year-old office worker, an orphan who had grown up without a father or mother but with plenty of adult support.
When he first realized where he was, the shock had been overwhelming. Seeing the signs, hearing the names, and recognizing the structure of society had taken time to accept.
This was the world of Hunter × Hunter.
At first the realization had nearly paralyzed him. Nen was real. Hunters were real. The danger in this world was far beyond normal human limits, from the Dark Continent and the Succession War to the malice of humanity that Isaac Netero had spoken of.
The morality of Hunter × Hunter's world is even worse than the real Earth.
Anyone careless could die without warning.
But the fear hadn't lasted, because Conrad hadn't come unprepared.
Back on Earth he had been obsessed with Nen, not as a fantasy power but as a system.
He had studied its rules, limitations, categories, contracts, and contradictions endlessly, treating it like an academic field instead of entertainment.
He had even called himself a Nen Sage, and standing here, that belief felt validated.
He smirked at the thought.
Ten activated automatically, without conscious effort. His aura spread evenly across his body in a thin, stable layer, and the cold, though still there, couldn't fully reach him.
Ten was simple.
Around him people struggled against the weather, pulling cloaks tighter, shivering, complaining. Conrad walked normally.
He reduced his output slightly, and he observed everything.