During lunchtime, meals would be provided to those who had successfully passed. The food itself wasn't bad at all—the Hunter Association had more than enough funds to ensure the candidates were fed decently. But everything was relative.
Most examinees could only accept the standard pre-packaged meals handed out to them. However, Larry was never one to follow convention. Reaching casually into his own shadow, he pulled out an exquisite, three-layered lunchbox, setting it in front of him.
Hisoka, who had been seemingly lost in his game of stacking playing cards, lifted an eyebrow. He slowly placed his cards down, no longer pretending to be distracted, and let his gaze settle directly on Larry. His golden eyes glimmered with intrigue. 'Space-related abilities.'
The lunchbox was divided into three layers. The first contained deep-sea cuisine, the second volcanic cuisine, and the third a serving of rice. This was no ordinary meal—Larry had purchased it in Solvren City, known for its high-end delicacies. It was their most expensive signature dish, carrying an elegant name: "A Song of Ice and Fire." The name felt oddly fitting, given their current location near the Mount Kira'Zan region. Few could afford such a luxury, but money was never an issue for Larry. With Gengar's ability acting as a portable storage dimension, it was only natural for him to keep some high-quality food on hand.
Opening the first layer, Larry was greeted by beautifully sliced fish fillets, glistening like crystal under the dim light. A wave of freshness surged from the meal, its aroma carrying a crisp, oceanic scent. Small compartments within the tray contained a variety of dipping sauces, each carefully prepared to complement the dish. He had eaten similar meals before, and while these condiments weren't quite as intense as the legendary "Extreme Fresh" seasoning, they were still of an exceptional standard. If the first layer exuded refinement and elegance, the second layer was all about power.
As soon as Larry lifted the lid, a fiery red sauce resembling molten lava came into view, generously draped over a thick cut of steak. The sheer intensity of the scent hit him immediately, the rich fragrance of sizzling meat mingling with the deep umami of the sauce. Without hesitation, Larry reached for a small container of Red Volcanic Salt and sprinkled it lightly over the dish. The effect was immediate. Like a match thrown into gasoline, the aroma exploded. The once-rich scent intensified a hundredfold, spreading rapidly across the underground chamber.
All at once, heads turned. The examinees, who had been quietly eating their pre-packaged meals, froze mid-bite. Their eyes snapped toward Larry and the extravagant meal in his hands. A loud gulp echoed in the chamber. Nobody spoke, but the sound of multiple people swallowing their saliva filled the air. No one laughed at the person who had made the noise—because they were all in the same boat. Their mouths were betraying them. No matter how much they tried to focus on their own food, their bodies reacted instinctively. Saliva pooled in their mouths as the tantalizing scent overwhelmed their senses. Some candidates even parted their lips slightly, as if hoping—willing—the food to somehow fly into their mouths.
Even Hisoka, who usually found amusement in everything, was no exception. His sharp gaze flicked toward his own meal, then back at Larry's. Within mere moments, his food had lost all appeal. His once-appetizing meal now seemed bland, uninspired—completely overshadowed by the "Song of Ice and Fire." If it had been any other high-end dish from Solvren City, the effect wouldn't have been this extreme. But the addition of Red Volcanic Salt had pushed the experience to an entirely new level.
A dangerous thought crossed the minds of several candidates. 'What if they stole it?' Just as quickly as the thought surfaced, it was discarded. No one was foolish enough to act on it. If anyone dared to make a move, it was uncertain whether they'd get to taste the food—but they would definitely end up dead. And so, a bizarre scene unfolded. Larry continued to eat, completely at ease. Meanwhile, the rest of the examinees huddled in a distant corner, as far from him as possible. Desperate to resist the temptation, they stuffed their noses with paper and other makeshift barriers. Some forced themselves to eat quickly, as if trying to convince themselves that their meals were still delicious. But it was useless. Deep down, they all knew the truth. This was self-deception. And it was pathetic.
While the Hunter Exam progressed, in a faraway land, another game was being played. On the southern side of the Yorbian Continent, just north of the Balusa Islands, lay Martinez City—better known as the "City of Night." True to its name, the city never truly slept. Even deep into the night, its streets remained alive with neon lights, flowing liquor, and the constant pulse of danger lurking beneath its glamorous exterior.
Amidst the glitz and chaos, a lone figure moved through the streets, entirely out of place. He was massive, his towering frame wrapped in a thick black robe that concealed every inch of his body. Even his face remained shrouded in shadow, making it impossible to discern his features. But beneath that cloak, his eyes burned with hatred.
As the black-robed man walked deeper into the city's dimly lit streets, a sudden burst of profanity erupted from a nearby alley. Moments later, a thin, sharp-faced man stumbled out, reeking of alcohol. The man clutched a half-empty bottle of cheap liquor, his face flushed an ugly shade of red, like a baboon's backside. His bloodshot eyes darted around aimlessly, his drunken mind barely registering his surroundings. Muttering curses under his breath, he staggered forward, swaying like a ship in a storm, barely able to keep himself upright. Then, as if his body finally gave out, he lurched forward—straight toward the black-robed figure.
With a heavy thud, the drunk collapsed onto the ground before he could make contact, landing hard in a murky puddle. Filthy water splashed up, leaving fresh stains on his already grimy clothes. "Oi! You blind or something? Can't even help a man up?" the drunk slurred angrily, struggling to push himself off the ground. His limbs felt like lead, refusing to cooperate.
As frustration bubbled over, he gripped his bottle tightly and swung it toward the silent figure beside him, eyes barely able to focus through the haze of alcohol. His gaze traveled upward, trying to make out the person he was cursing at. The alley was dark, but from this angle, he could just barely glimpse part of the man's face hidden beneath the hood. The dim lighting obscured the details, but something about it felt... off.
Then— A flash of lightning ripped through the night sky, illuminating every shadowed corner of Night City for the briefest moment. In that single heartbeat, the drunken man saw everything. His body locked up in sheer horror. That wasn't a human face. The skin beneath the black hood was covered in thick, overlapping green scales, forming a grotesque, reptilian texture. The pattern was unnatural, almost like that of a walking lizard. A creature masquerading as a man.