The real ones burdened with the Kakin succession incident were the Zodiacs. For someone like Joey—a nobody who wasn't even a licensed Hunter—this kind of matter placed him firmly in the category of bystander.
While discussions of the Dark Continent spread across the world, Joey had already boarded an airship heading toward the location of the World Tree.
This world was vast, and its population immense. The site of the World Tree had long since been transformed into a tourist destination. According to the travel brochures, nearly 300 million tourists visited the area every year.
Before the airship even landed, Joey spotted the towering World Tree in the distance. According to official records, the tree stood 1,784 meters tall. No human-made structure came close to such a height. Even Heaven's Arena in the Republic of Batokia, which Joey knew reached 991 meters, ranked only fourth globally.
A tree nearly twice that height looked like it could pierce the sky. And since there were no official restrictions on climbing it, thrill-seekers attempted the ascent each year.
Roughly 3,000 people tried, but 94% turned back before reaching the 1,000-meter mark. Four percent had to pay steep rescue fees for assistance. One percent perished in accidents.
That left a mere 1% — about 30 people annually — who managed to reach the top.
Though it sounded like a small number, Joey found it terrifying. Anyone who could summit the World Tree was physically beyond ordinary humans. Not just aspiring to post-human status, but fully embodying it.
Joey couldn't remember anyone in his previous life managing a near-2,000-meter vertical climb.
But now, he was ready to try. He wanted to see the world from the top of that tree.
Once off the airship, Joey headed to a hotel he had booked in advance. He bought a decent camera, large and expensive, with professional-grade lenses.
Then he wandered around the nearby town—eating, sightseeing. The food was good, the scenery average, but the people? Beautiful.
Handsome as he was, Joey drew plenty of attention walking down the streets. Several bold women even offered him their contact info. Joey accepted with a smile and moved on with his plans.
Around 9 PM, the town's lights dimmed and the night sky sparkled. Far in the distance, the World Tree began to shimmer with pale light. Locals claimed the glow came from fireflies and creatures called luminous birds.
Joey knew fireflies, but not the latter. Curious, he bought a telescope and peered into the night. He spotted birds shimmering like celestial beings in the dark.
Without realizing it, a coin appeared in his hand. Activating Golden Experience, he reshaped it based on the luminous bird's anatomy. Moments later, his darkened room was lit by a glowing blue bird.
Joey smiled, took a bath, did his daily training, and turned in early.
At 3 AM, long before dawn, Joey arrived at the base of the World Tree.
The registration booth was lit—open 24 hours, as he'd learned. An older man stopped him.
"You want to climb? Not happening. Minors need special licenses."
Joey came prepared. He pulled out his amateur Hunter license and a special commendation medal.
The license hadn't been hard. The amateur rank was basically a civilian title anyone with money could get. But Joey had once worked part-time for the Hunter Association and even fought in the Chimera Ant extermination. Getting credentials was easy.
The medal helped too. Awarded for his role in the ant campaign, it gave him the clout needed for clearance.
"Didn't expect someone your age to have such a resume," the clerk said. "Still, there was a kid younger than you here recently who was already a pro Hunter. You better catch up, huh?"
As he processed Joey's papers, the clerk kept chatting.
"Sign here. Regulation says even the president would have to sign this waiver. If you die, it's on you."
"Sure," Joey replied and signed.
"One tip—don't use the old footholds. Real climbers go freehand. Also, wait until sunrise."
"Got it. Thanks, old man."
The man was about to say more, but Joey leapt skyward, grabbing the trunk a dozen meters above ground.
"Your emergency beacon!" the man called out, holding up the device.
Joey just waved without looking back, launching himself higher.
He couldn't fail. If he slipped, Killer Queen would throw him back. In fact, with Killer Queen assisting, they could leapfrog up the tree in perfect relay.
Even Newton would throw up his hands and praise the absurdity.
And truthfully, Joey didn't even need that kind of help. His own strength was enough.
The only real challenge was psychological—the dizzying height, the brutal winds, and the plunging temperature.
Fear was the worst part. Joey wasn't scared of heights, but that primal doubt crept in the higher he went. Then it faded, replaced by awe, then by a longing for even higher places.
He climbed faster.
The wind and cold? Nen made them irrelevant.
1,784 meters became a marathon.
In under twenty minutes, Joey reached the top.
It was shaped like a nest.
And it was a nest—five massive chicks chirped inside, each bigger than a human.
A colossal bird, the size of a villa, dozed nearby. It opened one wide, meter-long eye to glance at Joey before dozing off again.
Clearly used to human visitors.
Joey exhaled slowly. He wasn't scared of it, but conflict was the last thing he wanted. Peace suited him.
He sat near the nest's edge, staring out at the sea of clouds.
Beautiful.
That was all he could think.
Adventure really is romantic.
He finally understood what Ging was chasing. With enough power and the knowledge that the world is even bigger than imagined—how could you not explore it?
Joey made a silent vow to do the same when he grew stronger.
Just then, the horizon began to glow. Dawn was coming.
Joey pulled off his backpack, dragged out a curled-up orange cat, and laughed as it fluffed up in protest.
He cuddled it, then set up his camera to capture the sunrise, the great bird, and himself teasing the cat atop the World Tree.
The massive bird woke, spread its wings, and took flight with a thunderous cry. It circled the tree once before vanishing into the sky.
Joey sat a little longer. Then he stood, packed up, and stepped beyond the edge of the nest—the orange cat wide-eyed on his shoulder.
...