Bab 17: Limitless
The forest was dense, filled with the earthy scent of pine and the faint rustle of leaves as the group made their way through it. The trees stretched high, their thick trunks casting shadows over the ground. It was quiet, save for the distant calls of birds and the soft crunch of footsteps over dried leaves. The group had been tracking the Great Stamp Boars for some time now, knowing they were close by.
Suddenly, Gon, perched high in the branches of a tree, spotted movement. His eyes widened as a massive Great Stamp Boar lumbered into the clearing below him. The creature was enormous, its bulky body covered in rough, brown fur and a pair of tusks jutting out from its lower jaw, gleaming in the sunlight. It was unaware of Gon's presence, its head low as it rooted around in the underbrush.
Without hesitation, Gon sprang from the tree, his fishing rod in hand. As he descended, he twisted mid-air, swinging the end of the rod with precision. The tip of it slammed down hard on the top of the boar's skull with a resounding crack. The force of the impact was enough to crumple the beast, its body dropping heavily to the ground.
Gon landed lightly beside it, dusting his hands off before grinning back at his friends. "Its weakness is the top of its head," he called out, satisfied with his swift takedown.
Not far away, Leorio was facing his own Great Stamp Boar. The beast charged at him with a ferocity that made the ground shake under its weight, but Leorio was quick. He sidestepped at the last possible moment, narrowly avoiding the tusks, and in one fluid motion, leapt onto the boar's back. He gripped tightly to its fur as it bucked wildly, trying to throw him off. With a fierce grunt, Leorio raised his elbow and drove it hard into the top of the boar's skull.
The boar staggered, its legs trembling under the sudden blow. Leorio wasted no time, hopping off its back and bringing his boot down in a powerful stomp onto the beast's head. The ground shook once more as the Great Stamp Boar collapsed beneath him, defeated. Leorio grinned, adjusting his glasses. "That's how you handle a wild boar!"
A second boar charged from the left, aiming directly for Leorio, but before it could reach him, Kurapika appeared in a flash. In a graceful leap, Kurapika vaulted over Leorio's shoulder, his wooden weapon already in motion. The smooth arc of his swing caught the boar right between the eyes. The boar didn't even have time to react before it collapsed into the dirt, motionless.
Kurapika landed softly in front of Leorio, his expression calm. "You shouldn't let your guard down, Leorio," he said, his tone soft but teasing.
Leorio huffed, shaking his head. "I had it under control."
Meanwhile, not far off, Killua was facing a boar of his own. The creature, larger and angrier than the rest, charged towards him at full speed, its tusks gleaming dangerously in the sunlight. But Killua didn't flinch. His silver hair caught the light as he shifted his weight, spinning out of the way just as the boar came barreling toward him. The boar's tusks cut through empty air, and in one swift motion, Killua twisted his body, his hand forming into a sharp claw-like shape.
As the boar passed him, Killua's hand lashed out, slicing clean through the thick fur and muscle of the creature's neck. Blood spurted from the wound as the boar skidded to a halt, collapsing in a heap at Killua's feet. He wiped his hand clean on the grass, his expression unbothered. "Too slow, you wouldn't be a good assassin animal," he muttered.
The rest of the group regrouped around Killua, each having handled their own share of the hunt. Gon beamed as he looked at the downed boars. "We're getting really good at this!" he said, clearly excited.
Kurapika nodded, surveying the area. "Great Stamp Boars are strong, but they have their vulnerabilities."
Leorio stretched his arms, still catching his breath. "Yeah, and the next time one of those things tries to knock me down, I'm sending it flying!"
Killua smirked, shaking his head at Leorio's bravado. "Just don't get yourself trampled, old man."
Leorio glared but couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man? I'll show you, old man!"
As the group shared a laugh, the forest around them seemed to grow still again, the tension of their hunt having faded. Away from the rest, Gojo stood alone in a different part of the forest, his signature calm, collected demeanour never wavering. The wind rustled through the trees, and the distant sounds of nature filled the air. His eyemask rested comfortably over his eyes, but that didn't hinder his senses—he could feel everything around him with ease.
A loud snort broke the stillness as a massive Great Stamp Boar emerged from the undergrowth, its hooves pounding the earth as it charged straight toward him, tusks gleaming and eyes filled with wild fury. The creature was a towering mass of muscle and brute strength, the ground shaking beneath its sheer weight.
But Gojo didn't move. He stood perfectly still, almost bored, as the boar thundered towards him. When it was mere feet away, instead of dodging as any other person would, Gojo simply reached out with effortless precision, his hands finding the beast's tusks.
In one fluid motion, Gojo twisted his body, using the boar's own momentum against it. With perfect technique and strength, he pulled the massive creature over his head, its enormous weight seeming insignificant in his grip. The boar flew over him, its legs flailing wildly in the air.
As it came down, Gojo's knee shot up with devastating accuracy. The top of the boar's skull met his knee with a bone-shattering crack. The force of the impact echoed through the forest as the beast crumpled instantly, lifeless, at Gojo's feet.
Gojo stood over the creature, his expression unchanged. He adjusted his blindfold slightly, brushing the dust off his clothes with casual ease. "Boars are always too predictable but you were a good sport," he muttered to himself, stepping over the fallen creature.
In another part of the forest, chaos reigned.
Participants from the exam, scattered and frantic, were struggling to deal with the overwhelming force of the Great Stamp Boars. These beasts were relentless, their massive forms barreling through trees, crashing through the underbrush, and hunting anyone unlucky enough to cross their path. The air was filled with the sound of hooves pounding the earth and the panicked cries of those who hadn't prepared for the sheer ferocity of the creatures.
Todo, the towering wrestler known for his strength and confidence, was panting heavily as he squared off against a particularly massive Great Stamp Boar. His muscular frame was drenched in sweat, his eyes focused and determined. The boar snorted, pawing at the ground before charging forward with terrifying speed.
"Alright, big guy," Todo growled through gritted teeth, bracing himself as the beast hurtled toward him. He slammed his feet into the ground, lowering his stance to absorb the impact. The boar's tusks clashed with his forearms, and the force sent a shockwave through his entire body, nearly knocking him off balance.
But Todo held his ground, muscles straining as he let out a battle cry, pushing back against the immense weight of the creature. With a surge of strength, he grabbed the boar's tusks and twisted, forcing the beast to veer off course. The boar let out an enraged squeal, but Todo was already moving, positioning himself behind the creature.
He leapt into the air and brought his full weight down on the boar's back, locking his massive arms around its neck in a grappling hold. The creature thrashed violently, trying to shake him off, but Todo gritted his teeth and tightened his grip, muscles bulging.
"Stay still, dammit!" he growled.
With a final, powerful heave, Todo twisted the boar's head to the side and slammed it into the ground, hard. The boar's body convulsed once, then went limp beneath him. Todo stood up, breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his brow, but a satisfied grin spread across his face.
"That's how you do it," he muttered to himself, wiping his hands on his pants.
Not everyone was so fortunate, though.
Nearby, other participants weren't faring nearly as well. Screams filled the air as a massive boar trampled over one unfortunate man, its hooves crushing him beneath its bulk. Another contestant, too slow to react, was caught by the sharp tusks of a boar, lifted into the air, and then violently gored before being tossed aside like a ragdoll.
The forest was a scene of carnage as the boars wreaked havoc on the weaker or less prepared examiners. Blood stained the ground, and some of the Great Stamp Boars feasted on the fallen participants, their bodies disappearing beneath the beasts' ravenous jaws.
Others were desperately trying to avoid the same fate. One participant, barely avoiding a charge, scrambled up a tree, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched in horror as the boar circled beneath him, waiting for its chance to strike.
The weak, the unprepared, and the overconfident were swiftly being eliminated brutally, as the Great Stamp Boars showed no mercy to anyone who underestimated their sheer power.
As the survivors of the hunt, numbering over a hundred trudged wearily toward the roasting grounds, exhaustion was etched into their faces. They had been directed there earlier by the examiners, and now, with the boars defeated and dragged to the site, the task of cleaning and skinning the massive beasts awaited them.
The air was thick with the sounds of knives scraping against the skin, the crackle of fires being stoked, and the murmurs of those too tired to speak above a whisper. Boar carcasses were hoisted onto large rotisseries, the smell of roasting meat slowly beginning to fill the air, promising a reward for the hunters. Despite the fatigue, there was a sense of relief that the first trial was behind them.
Many participants took the time to rest, pulling food from their pockets or taking long swigs of water, desperately trying to replenish what little energy they had left. They were physically, mentally, and emotionally drained from the day's ordeal. Some sat in silence, staring into the fire as their boar roasted, while others chatted quietly, trying to stave off the creeping exhaustion.
Gojo, ever calm, sat alone near his roasting boar, watching the flames lick at the meat. He leaned back, his long white hair swaying slightly in the evening breeze. He took a deep breath and smirked, the memory of the water divination test he took with Hisoka a while ago creeping back into his mind.
He recalled the scene vividly, visualising it perfectly. At the time, Hisoka had been insistent that Gojo was an Enhancer. The reason? When Gojo placed his aura into the glass of water, the volume increased so rapidly that the glass just exploded. The look on Hisoka's face had been priceless—so sure, so smug in his analysis.
But Gojo, with his Six Eyes, had seen something far more interesting.
When his aura touched the water, his Six Eyes began to reveal more than what Hisoka could perceive. He saw beyond the surface effect of aura on the water, down to its molecular structure—its atoms shifting, morphing, and reacting. This wasn't something Hisoka had mentioned in his explanation of Nen. The Six Eyes, a biological trait intrinsic to Gojo, had activated without any input from him. It was a trait that couldn't be switched off, always feeding him information and pushing his energy efficiency to the highest possible levels.
He saw the aura influencing the water in ways Hisoka couldn't. The fluid's molecular composition changed, reacting to the very nature of Gojo's aura in a way that transcended Nen categories. It wasn't just Enhancing—it was all categories, everything at once. It was as though the water itself recognized the overwhelming potential of his aura, bending and warping under the weight of its presence.
Gojo had realized then that the abilities of Six Eyes were on display, naturally giving his godly cognition, diabolical visual senses, and unfathomable energy efficiency had resulted in something closer to Specialization. The sheer precision with which he could see, manipulate, and control not just aura but the world around him made him something beyond the simple categories Hisoka had described.
Still, Gojo found it amusing to play along.
So, to mess with Hisoka, Gojo had leaned into the Enhancing effect during the water divination, pushing it further just to see the glass explode. He smiled at the memory—Hisoka had been completely convinced. Gojo had even thought about toying with shifting the water in subtle ways, experimenting with Conjuration and Transmutation, but he'd held back from revealing the full extent of what he could do.
The flames from the roasting boar crackled, pulling Gojo from his thoughts. He glanced up at the sky, still smirking to himself. Hisoka had tried to analyze him, to categorize him like all the others, but Gojo wasn't someone who fit into neat little boxes.
"I wonder what he'd think if he knew," Gojo mused, resting his head on his hand. The truth of his abilities was something no one but he fully understood. His Six Eyes, his mastery of Nen—it all blended together into something unique. Something unstoppable. His mind wandered deeper into the mechanics of his Limitless technique. He knew that if he were to recreate it using Nen principles, he'd need to articulate its foundation in a way that resonated with the framework of Nen's categories.
'Now Infinity.'
Infinity, the neutral form of his Limitless technique, was his starting point. In the world of curses and sorcery, it allowed him to create an infinite series of spatial divisions between himself and any incoming attack or object. This mathematical representation with an asymptote fascinated him:
Let d(x) represent the distance of an attack as it approaches him. As the attack neared, the distance would never reach zero because it was continually halved, mathematically expressed as:
d(x)= 1/2^n
As (n) approaches infinity, d(x) approaches zero but never quite reaches it. It echoed Zeno's paradox, where the distance between two objects could be divided infinitely, yet they never converged.
But Gojo felt this was a simplistic view. He needed to think more broadly to form his technique.
His Limitless could be viewed through the lens of topology—the study of space properties that remain invariant through stretching and bending but not tearing. By conceptualizing his ability in this way, he realized he was creating a spatial framework with an infinite number of intermediate points separating himself from any attacker.
Mathematically, this could be articulated as:
X={x∈R:0≤x<∞}
Here, ( X ) represented an open interval reflecting the infinite points existing between him and his opponent. The limit of the distance, as ( n ) approached infinity, would again hint at something like Zeno's paradox.
The ancient Greek philosopher Zeno explained this through the analogy of Achilles and tortoise. In a race, Achilles gives a tortoise a head start. By the time Achilles reaches the point where the tortoise started, the tortoise has moved forward a bit. Each time Achilles reaches the tortoise's previous position, the tortoise has moved ahead. Thus, Achilles can never overtake the tortoise, as there are infinitely many points he must reach. Infinity brought the concept of this paradox to existence.
For a more formal description, Gojo considered metric spaces. A metric space (M, d) consists of a set ( M ) and a distance function ( d ) that measures the distance between points within that space. If he positioned himself at point ( p ) and an attack originated from point ( q ), his power would warp the space such that the distance:
d(p,q)→∞ even as q→p
This could be represented by:
d(p,q)= 1/2^n as n→∞
This notation conveyed the essence of his technique: no matter how close an attack got, there would always be an infinite series of points standing between him and the attack.
Gojo smirked to himself, contemplating the intricacies of his abilities. If he could express the Limitless technique through the structure of Nen, he might unlock new layers of potential. Each attack would become a series of obstacles, an elaborate dance of distance where his opponents could never truly reach him.
As the boar turned slowly over the fire, he let the warm, smoky air envelop him, invigorating his thoughts. He realized that true mastery would require an understanding not just of his own abilities but also of the foundational principles governing all forms of Nen.
He delved deeper into this intersection of mathematics, physics, and Nen, crafting a technique that blended his innate talent with the structured world of Nen. It was a tantalizing thought—one that fueled his ambition even further. Gojo closed his eyes, envisioning the infinite possibilities that lay ahead, a smile playing on his lips.
As Gojo sat contemplating, he began to piece together the possible Nen category most fitting for his Limitless technique. The answer seemed obvious now—Conjuration. Hisoka had mentioned that Conjurers weren't limited to creating just objects; they could conjure phenomena. So why not use that power to manipulate space itself?
Gojo smirked at the realization. Spatial manipulation as a conjured phenomenon—it made perfect sense.
Hisoka had outlined two essential conditions for Conjurers. First, they needed a deep, theoretical understanding of what they intended to conjure. Gojo had this in abundance, thanks to his grasp of both topology and the intricate mechanics of space. He knew its limitations, just as he had explored in his Limitless technique using cursed energy—the same asymptotic barriers that allowed him to create infinite divisions between himself and his opponents.
But it was the second condition that caused Gojo to pause. Hisoka had explained that Conjurers must be able to perfectly visualize the object or phenomenon they wanted to create, triggering it through their sense-data perception at will. This was where Gojo struggled. While he had achieved high-level interactions with space through cursed energy that he could trigger quite easily, they had never involved Nen aura.
He couldn't just rely on the cursed techniques that came naturally to him through his Six Eyes and Limitless. If he were to recreate Limitless using Nen, he needed to feel space through Nen aura, not cursed energy. But how could he bridge that gap?
Meditation was the first thought that came to mind. He could spend weeks, months, or years meditating on the Buddhist concept of emptiness, delving into the formless nature of space. But Gojo didn't want to spend that kind of time.
His thoughts raced, searching for a faster solution.
A grin spread across his face, slowly turning into laughter. It started as a chuckle, but quickly built into a full-throated laugh. The participants around him, weary and battered from the trials of the exam, glanced his way, wondering if the pressures of the hunt had finally broken him. Was Gojo Satoru losing his mind?
"Oh, this going to be fun."
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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