章 12: It Begins
The underground room was massive, a sprawling chamber filled with hundreds of contestants. The walls were smooth concrete, and the air was thick with anticipation. Dim, artificial lights cast long shadows, making the entire place feel oppressive. The hum of whispered conversations and the shifting of feet created an undercurrent of tension that permeated the room.
As Gojo, Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio entered, they immediately felt the weight of the atmosphere. Hundreds of eyes darted their way, sizing them up, and judging them as potential threats or allies. But Gojo's attention wasn't on the crowd's gaze—it was on the room itself. His Six Eyes wandered, analyzing every detail.
"This place is packed," Gon commented, his voice tinged with both awe and excitement. "There are so many people here."
Kurapika nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd with a calm but calculating gaze. "It's expected. This is the Hunter Exam, after all. But… something feels off."
Before Kurapika could elaborate, a chubby man in a muted sweater approached them, a wide grin plastered on his face. His steps were casual, almost too casual as if he were trying to appear non-threatening. The man's badge read '16.'
"Well, well, what do we have here?" the man said in a cheerful tone. "You four bring the number up to 406 now. My name's Tonpa," he announced, pointing to his badge. "This must be your first exam, huh?"
Kurapika eyed the man warily, his suspicion evident in the way his eyes narrowed. "Tonpa… Number 16," he repeated, his tone cool. "I don't think I know you. What's your business with us?"
Tonpa chuckled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Oh, I'm just a friendly guy, you know? Here to help the newcomers out."
Kurapika's eyes remained sharp, but he extended his hand nonetheless. "Kurapika," he introduced himself, his handshake firm and brief.
Leorio, however, crossed his arms and made no move to reciprocate the gesture. "Leorio," he said curtly, eyeing Tonpa's sweaty hand with obvious distaste.
Gojo, on the other hand, barely acknowledged Tonpa's presence. His gaze was fixed on the crowd, his mind piecing together the various puzzles the room presented. The aura here was dense, layered with the presence of hundreds. His Six Eyes continued to roam, dissecting the crowd. There were people of all kinds of colours, costumes, and abilities from all over the world.
"And you are?" Tonpa asked, trying to get his attention, but Gojo didn't even glance his way.
Gon, always eager to make friends, smiled at Tonpa and shook his hand. "I'm Gon! Nice to meet you, Tonpa."
Tonpa grinned wider, his eyes flicking between the group members. "It's always nice to meet fresh faces. But you should be careful—there are some real tough competitors this year."
Tonpa lingered around the group, eyeing them with a mix of feigned concern and mischief. His gaze darted across the room, scanning the other contestants before he leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "You know," he began, tone dripping with false camaraderie, "you rookies have no idea how tough the competition is this year."
He subtly pointed to a massive man with a tightly bound ponytail, towering over the others like a looming mountain. "See that guy over there? No. 255, Todo the wrestler. Don't let his appearance fool you—his strength is unmatched. He's even stronger than he looks, and he's ruthless in a fight. People say he once snapped a bear's neck with his bare hands."
Tonpa's finger shifted to another contestant, a wiry man with a sinister smile, fiddling with what looked like a pouch at his side. "And that's Bourbon, No. 103. He's got a nasty habit of carrying snakes and poison around as weapons. You get in his way, and he won't hesitate to make things ugly."
He then nodded toward a composed, older contestant with sharp eyes and an air of disciplined calm. "No. 191, Bodoro the Kungfu master. He is a veteran and knows every trick in the book. Don't let his age fool you; he can turn your moves against you before you even realize what's happening."
Tonpa's gaze shifted again, this time toward a trio of nearly identical men huddled together, each with a cocky smirk plastered on their faces. "Those are the Amori Brothers—Nos. 185, 186, and 187. They're trouble, always teaming up to take down their targets. Individually, they're a pain, but together, they're downright dangerous."
Finally, Tonpa's eyes settled on a grim-looking man with a blowgun and a spiked club slung across his back. "And then there's Gerrta, No. 384. He's a hunter, but not the licensed kind. He specializes in killing with his blowdart and club. They say he can take down any beast—or man—without making a sound."
Tonpa leaned back, folding his arms and giving the group a sly grin. "Just thought I'd let you know who you're up against. It's not just about passing the exam; it's about surviving."
His eyes flickered with a hint of malice, though he kept his tone light as if trying to seem helpful.
Gojo chuckled softly, drawing the group's attention. "Honestly, none of these guys sound any tougher than the pirates we dealt with earlier. If you're going to worry about anyone, it shouldn't be a bunch of overhyped contestants."
He pointed casually across the room, first toward two military-looking combatants standing apart from the crowd. One was armed with dual pistols and a knife, while the other carried only a knife but exuded a commanding presence. "Now those two—military types. The one with the pistols has a quick trigger finger, but the other one's clearly in charge. It's usually the quiet one you've got to watch out for."
Gojo's eyes shifted to another contestant wielding a kusarigama, twirling the chain and sickle with deft precision. "And him? Guy with the kusarigama. He's got the kind of weapon that can throw off anyone who's not prepared to deal with it. Tricky to handle in close quarters."
Next, Gojo nodded toward a lanky man with a bony spear slung over his shoulder. "That one's got a weapon that's not just for show. A spear like that isn't just for stabbing; he's is handling it like it's just another extra limb."
Gojo then gestured toward a tanned man with a wiry, hardened physique, covered in the traditional tattoos of rope bindings. "That guy over there, with the stance of a Muay Thai fighter? Do you guys know what Muay Thai is? Never mind... but he has got experience written all over him. Fighters like him don't just punch or kick; they break you piece by piece."
His gaze moved to another contestant in strange armour like something out of a superhero TV show, carrying a custom pile driver that looked like it could demolish concrete. "Armored guy with the pile driver attached to his gauntlet? I'm betting that thing's not just for show. It's got the power to turn any opponent into a pancake if they're not careful."
Finally, Gojo pointed to a man in a jumpsuit who was fiddling with an oversized Kendam, even bigger than the man himself. "And him? The Kendama's not a toy in his hands; it's a weapon, and he's likely got more tricks up his sleeve than just swinging a ball on a string. These types always have some unexpected technique."
Gojo shrugged, his expression calm but his eyes sharp. "None of these guys are going to go down easy, but then again, neither will we. Just remember, it's not about what weapons or styles they bring to the table; it's about who's ready to take control of the fight."
Gojo pointed to three figures in the room. "But there are three here you should stay away from the guy with the purple face and pins all over his head, the creepy clown hiding in the crowd, and that white-haired kid."
The group looked confused, and as they continued to converse around Tonpa, Gon's curiosity got the better of him, and he interrupted Gojo. "Hey, Tonpa," he asked, "how did you know we were rookies?"
Tonpa chuckled, the grin never leaving his face. "Well, I've been around the block a few times," he said, scratching his head. "This is my thirty-fifth attempt at the exam. I haven't seen you four around before, so I figured you were newcomers."
Leorio and Kurapika exchanged wry glances, their scepticism apparent. Leorio muttered under his breath, "Thirty-five attempts? That's... a lot."
Kurapika's eyes were sharp as he regarded Tonpa. "And you've made it this far thirty times? How does that work?"
Tonpa shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm good at getting in, but passing the exam—that's a different story. Anyway, if you've got any questions, feel free to ask."
Just then, a chubby teenager in suspenders, carrying a laptop, approached the group. He looked up from his screen, scanning the room with a practised eye. "Tonpa," he said, his tone dripping with a mix of admiration and mockery. "Thirty-five attempts, thirty times making it to the exam. That's the second highest ever in history."
Tonpa gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. "Yeah, I'm good at getting in, but I guess I'm just not good enough at passing. Guess I am King of the Flukies huh"
The teenager, who wore the badge number 187, snickered and shook his head. "King of the Flunkies, I couldn't have put it much better myself."
With a dismissive wave, he turned and walked away, leaving a trail of amused whispers behind him. As the tension in the room began to settle, Tonpa pulled out several cans of orange juice from his bag. With a smile, he handed them out to the group. "Here, have a drink. It'll help you and me relax a bit."
Leorio shrugged, eagerly took a can and took a generous mouthful. As he swallowed, his face contorted with disgust. He spat out the juice immediately, the sour taste lingering on his tongue. "What is this? It's terrible!"
Gon, who had been eyeing his can suspiciously, took a closer sniff. "It smells like it's expired. Are you trying to poison us or something?"
Leorio, now furious, turned to Tonpa, who looked innocently confused. "What's the deal, Tonpa? Did you seriously give us expired juice?"
Tonpa shrugged a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, it's just some old juice I had lying around. Didn't think it would be such a big deal."
Kurapika, having just dropped his can in disgust, glared at Tonpa. "This isn't funny. We need to be in top shape, and you're wasting our time with this nonsense."
Gojo, meanwhile, had never touched his offered can. He had been observing the interaction with mild amusement, but his focus was elsewhere. His Six Eyes were still scanning the room, analyzing the crowd and their movements. He was more interested in gathering information about potential threats and allies than indulging in the distraction of expired juice.
As Tonpa was about to leave the group, Gojo, still casually observing his surroundings without turning his head, made a seemingly offhand comment.
"Hey, Tonpa," Gojo said, his tone casual yet piercing. "Why are you wearing a sweater in this weather? It's pretty warm here. Doesn't that make you sweat more? Or is there something you're trying to hide under that sweater? No... That's not it. Are you using the sweater to mask your sweating tendency when you try to hide something? Yes, I see that's the case. Did someone previously catch you like this so that's why you do it? That's a yes I hear in your heartbeats. What are you hiding, Tonpa?"
Tonpa froze momentarily at the unexpected scrutiny, a subtle but noticeable flicker of tension in his expression. His face momentarily betrayed an involuntary micro reaction—something Gojo, with his keen observational skills, caught despite not even looking directly at him.
Tonpa quickly masked his reaction with a forced smile. "No, nothing like that," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "I just prefer to be comfortable."
Gojo, unfazed, pointed out, "You're not very good at hiding your lies. I could tell from the way your expression shifted just now."
With that, Tonpa's forced smile faltered, and he gave a curt nod before turning to leave. Gojo didn't stop him or even turn his head to watch him go. His focus remained on the crowd as if the brief interaction had been nothing more than a trivial distraction.
"These rookies are something else," Tonpa mumbled.
The group's annoyance with Tonpa grew, and his casual demeanour only added to their frustration. With a wry smile, Tonpa continued his dubious mission, approaching other rookie contestants with the expired juice. He stopped by Nicholas, the chubby teen in suspenders, who had previously mocked him.
Nicholas eyed the can warily. "I know you're trying to mess with the rookies' exams," he said, his tone steely. "But if you want to keep this information to yourself, you'd better not make any more trouble with him. I'll keep this between us… for now."
Tonpa nodded, his smile faltering slightly, and moved on to his next target: a foreign bald young man with a ninja-like demeanour. The man, clad in traditional ninja attire, took one look at the can and burst out laughing. "Nice try," he said. "I can tell those are laxatives. If you're lying or trying to mess with me, I've got a few ninja torture techniques I'd be happy to demonstrate."
Tonpa's smile was now completely gone as he nodded meekly and walked away. He was feeling the weight of his failed schemes.
Finally, he approached a white-haired boy with a skateboard. The boy had a laid-back, carefree attitude as he took a can from Tonpa's hands. Without hesitation, he chugged down multiple cans of the expired juice.
"Thanks for the juice," the boy said casually, looking entirely unaffected. "I've trained for this sort of thing. Nothing's going to faze me."
Tonpa, now thoroughly defeated and disheartened, watched as the boy skated off, seemingly unaffected by his attempt at sabotage. The weight of his failures and the growing frustration with his attempts to unsettle the other contestants left him feeling more isolated than ever.
'What's up with rookies of this year?'
As everyone around continued their conversation, a sudden commotion erupted at the far end of the room. Shouting and screaming broke out, drawing everyone's attention. From the crowd emerged a tall figure clad in a bring colours, jester-like outfit, adorned with various suit symbols—diamonds, clubs, hearts, and spades—across his attire. His face was painted with a star on his right cheek and a teardrop on his left, accentuating his unnerving presence.
In his hands, the man held what appeared to be normal-looking playing cards, but as he flicked them with practised ease, they seemed to slice through the air with deadly precision.
"Next time you bump into someone, remember to apologize," the jester man said to someone.
The crowd watched in shock as one of the contestants fell, his limbs severed by the seemingly harmless cards. He broke into screams, shouting for help but one did. There was palpable fear around everyone who stood nearby, they feared the laughing jester.
Gon's eyes widened in disbelief. "What's going on?"
Tonpa, his expression one of grim resignation, leaned in and said, "That's Hisoka the Magician. He's dangerous. It's best to stay far away from him. Last time, he got disqualified for killing a bunch of contestants and almost killing an examiner. Know that every examiner at this stage is a Hunter, so you can imagine how serious that was."
Leorio's face twisted in confusion and concern. "How is someone like that even allowed to compete?"
Tonpa sighed. "The examiners change every year, and they decide who gets to compete or not. Hisoka must have convinced them to let him participate again this year. It's all part of the process, even if it means dealing with people like him."
Kurapika looked at Hisoka with a critical eye. "It sounds like we need to be very careful. The exam is more dangerous than I thought."
Gojo, meanwhile, was mildly intrigued. His Six Eyes took in every detail of the scene, analyzing the movements and techniques employed by Hisoka. While the others were visibly unsettled, Gojo's expression remained neutral, though his mind was already at work, processing the implications of such a dangerous individual in the exam.
'He is another nen user, using nen to reinforce his cards. But that isn't his gimmick. So far he along with Pinhead seems to be most dangerous here.'
The low hum of chatter in the underground room came to an abrupt halt as the sound of grinding gears filled the space. One of the walls began to lift slowly, screeching as it revealed a dimly lit corridor. A tall man with a neatly trimmed moustache, wearing a sharp black suit and dark sunglasses, stepped into view. His posture was straight and imposing, radiating an air of authority that instantly captured everyone's attention.
The room fell silent, all eyes locked on the newcomer as he adjusted his tie with a practised motion, and then cleared his throat. "Good morning, applicants," he began, his voice resonating through the room with a calm but commanding tone. "My name is Satotz, and I will be your first examiner for the Hunter Exam."
Gojo's Six Eyes immediately scanned Satotz, analyzing every aspect of his presence—down to the almost mechanical precision in his movements, the way his eyes seemed to survey the crowd with a detached, yet calculating gaze. He was not just a figurehead; there was a deliberate precision behind every gesture, every word.
Satotz continued, "For those of you who wish to proceed with the exam, follow me." He gestured down the dim corridor that stretched beyond him, its end shrouded in darkness. His expression remained unreadable, and his tone carried no hint of encouragement or warning, leaving the applicants to interpret his words however they chose.
The atmosphere in the room shifted from tense anticipation to a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Gon's eyes sparkled with curiosity, a small grin spreading across his face. "This is it," he whispered to himself, his excitement palpable.
Kurapika nodded, his gaze steady but cautious. "The first phase begins now."
Leorio adjusted his glasses, his jaw set with determination. "Guess there's no turning back from here," he muttered, though a slight edge of nerves clung to his words.
Gojo, standing slightly apart from the rest, looked on with a calm, almost amused expression. "Well, this is about to get interesting," he said under his breath, glancing around at the other contestants, each a potential obstacle in the path ahead.
'He is another nen user, and also a hunter. That confirms it for me, hunter association cultivates nen and hides it from the public.'
Satotz didn't wait for a response; he turned on his heel and began to walk down the corridor. The candidates hesitated for only a moment before the crowd surged forward, eager to follow. There was a sense of urgency in their steps, the realization that the Hunter Exam was finally underway pushing them into motion.
Tonpa, who had been lingering near the back, threw one last wary glance at Gojo and the others before shuffling after the group. "Let's see who makes it out of this round," he mumbled, keeping a careful eye on the stronger contenders he had pointed out earlier.
"405 applicants excellent chose to continue, excellent."
Meanwhile, the man with dismembered limbs was left behind, slowly bleeding without help.
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