In last year's Hunter Exam, he even gravely injured an examiner.
If Hisoka suddenly lost his temper and attacked the two of them, what then?
For the first time, Menchi regretted the test she had set.
"Why isn't someone from the Association here yet…?"
Menchi glanced up at the sky. Time seemed to crawl; the atmosphere became tense.
Then, something happened that made Buhara and Menchi even more anxious:
Hisoka finished cooking and brought his dish to the judging table.
Buhara took a large bite and swallowed.
"Pass!"
A faint smile appeared on Hisoka's face. He turned toward Menchi.
Menchi eyed the dish before her, carefully took a small piece with a fork, and popped it into her mouth. Truth be told, the dish looked acceptable, but the taste was nothing remarkable. This left Menchi in a dilemma:
Grant Hisoka a pass… but that would do tremendous damage to her Nen, tied as it was to her honest appraisal of flavor.
Or fail Hisoka… and risk enraging him. Would he attack them on the spot? If he did, could they even stop him?
Menchi's expression soured.
"Where is the Association…?" she wondered again, inwardly.
Hisoka watched her, his gaze flickering. A playing card appeared between his fingers, held against his other palm—ready to strike at any moment.
Menchi noticed and grew more agitated.
Suddenly, a rush of wind accompanied a mechanical whir. Menchi looked up to see an airship in the sky. A loudspeaker boomed:
"Menchi, Buhara, I know your commitment to fine cuisine, to cooking, and to becoming Gourmet Hunters is unshakable, but this standard is unreasonably harsh for everyone else."
All the candidates looked up. On the airship was the unmistakable emblem of the Hunter Association.
"That's… the Hunter Association?"
"Is that the Review Committee?"
"Does that mean they think this test is too strict?"
"They've finally come!"
"Thank goodness!"
"These two examiners are just messing around!"
"They're abusing their authority!"
"At last the Association has noticed their misconduct."
"How will they handle this now?"
"Hopefully, they'll change the exam topic."
"This cooking nonsense doesn't interest me in the least."
"I hope those two get punished. They have no respect for us and are acting arbitrarily!"
"They're just toying with us!"
"It's disgusting!"
The examinees whispered among themselves. What they didn't know was that Menchi and Buhara were actually breathing a sigh of relief. Menchi's harshness was not by choice—her exam format had inevitably led to this outcome.
Menchi couldn't lie about cooking. Lying would inflict devastating damage on her own Nen, the limitation and vow she had imposed on herself. If all the candidates had been like the one Buhara had easily knocked out, she wouldn't have cared. But this year's candidates were abnormally strong—unbelievably so.
At A-level alone, there were Hisoka, Illumi, and Ron—already extremely skilled Nen users. Beyond them, there were top-tier contenders like Hanzo, Killua (the heir of the Zoldyck family), Gon (the son of Ging Freecss), and Kurapika (the last of the Kurta). Even Bodoro and Leorio, who were geniuses by normal standards, barely stood out among such a group.
Normally, very few ever passed a Hunter Exam—maybe one or two, sometimes four or five, or none at all. Yet in the original storyline, seven candidates had qualified, and if you added Killua, that made eight. Now, in this world, Ron was part of the mix, bringing the count to nine. That many successful applicants in one exam matched several year's worth of passes.
If Menchi caused them all to fail for personal reasons, it would be a loss for the Hunter Association. Some might go on without acknowledging the Association, but others—like Bodoro—would probably integrate deeply into the organization.
Moreover, Menchi feared Hisoka's retaliation. None of the three parties—the examiners, the Association, or the examinees—wanted the situation to end badly.
Menchi looked at the airship overhead. Even though the broadcast's words were a rebuke, her face showed clear relief.
Hisoka slipped the playing card back into his pocket.
A figure appeared at the edge of the airship's deck and then jumped off into a free-fall. The longer they fell, the faster they went, until—
Boom!
The ground shook. This impact was far greater than when Buhara had sent that earlier candidate crashing into the wall. Clouds of dust plumed up; when they finally settled, everyone saw an old man.
He wore primarily white training clothes with blue patterns. His hair, beard, and eyebrows were all white, leaving only a sparse tuft at the top of his head tied into a small topknot. He had unusually large ears and a calm, unreadable demeanor.
Some of the candidates didn't know who this was.
"Who's that old man?"
"Is the Hunter Association so short on personnel?"
Hisoka studied him. Illumi glanced at him and then looked away—this wasn't their first meeting. Gon, Killua, and many others looked on curiously. Ron, too, sized him up:
This was one of the top-tier powers in the world, an S-level Nen user. Publicly acknowledged as one of the five greatest Nen masters—Isaac Netero.