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'…' Thought
"…" speech
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The nine of us were led to a small field, where a group of proctors stood waiting, along with none other than Chairman Isaac Netero himself. His presence alone was enough to make the air feel heavier—well, for everyone except Ging, who looked like he was about to ask him for lunch money.
Netero clapped his hands together, beaming at us like a proud grandpa about to tell a bedtime story. "Welcome, welcome! You've all done well to make it this far. But don't get too comfortable! The next exam is gonna be… oh, let's just say, very interactive!"
That's when we realized we weren't just standing in an empty field—there were marks on the ground with hats of different colors.
Before we could ask what was going on, the proctors started directing us urging us into groups. Nobody wanted to team up with Ging, and by extension, me. Some gave excuses—"We need balance" or "We want experienced members"—but most just flat-out ignored us.
"Hey, come on, guys," Ging said, grinning. "Why not want us in your team?"
"You punched me last round."
"You tamed a giant worm and threw us off the entire phase!"
"You called an examiner a pigeon for twenty straight minutes."
"...Alright, fair."
So yeah, we ended up in a team of two. No surprise there.
The other teams came together much more smoothly:
Team One: Three tough-looking guys who seemed way too happy to be working together.Team Two: Two men and two women—balanced, strategic, and already forming battle plans.
Then, just as we were starting to question why we were being grouped like this, Netero finally revealed the catch.
"Aaaaand now that you're all sorted… here's the fun part!" He threw his hands in the air dramatically. "This next round? Free for all."
Everyone stiffened. Even the tough guys looked wary.
Netero grinned wider. "Simple rules: If even one member of your team surrenders, your whole team is eliminated. The last team standing wins! No rules beyond that—except, of course, don't kill any one that'd get me in legal trouble. Have fun!"
Silence. Then—
"WHAT?!"
"Oh, and one more thing!" Netero added, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on us. "The only team with all members still in the game at the end? You all get to become Hunters."
Cue more yelling.
Meanwhile, I turned to Ging, who was stretching like this was just another morning jog. "Well… we're screwed."
Ging smirked. "Nah. We just have to make sure we're the last ones standing. Easy."
Easy, he says. We were a two-man team against squads that actually cooperated.
This was going to be hell.
The moment Netero clapped his hands and shouted, "Begin!"—all hell broke loose.
Team One, the trio of tough guys, wasted no time lunging at the nearest targets—us. Of course.
"Why does everyone always come for us first?" I groaned, sidestepping as one of them, a hulking brute with arms the size of tree trunks, swung at me.
"Because they fear greatness," Ging replied casually, dodging another attack while grinning like a lunatic.
We both jumped back, narrowly avoiding a combined assault from Team One, only for Team Two—the actually competent team—to start moving toward us too.
"Uh, Ging?" I muttered. "We're officially both teams' first target."
Ging blinked. "Huh. Guess I might have annoyed them a bit too much."
"You think?!"
No time to complain. One of the women from Team Two—tall, fast, and wielding a pair of daggers—lunged at me. I barely managed to parry with my forearm before twisting away from her second strike.
Ging, meanwhile, was somehow laughing as he dodged three people at once, using minimal effort, like he was enjoying a game of tag.
"Alright, we need a plan!" I said, narrowly avoiding a flying kick.
"Nah, let's just wing it," Ging replied.
"WHAT KIND OF—"
But before I could finish, Team One's brute threw a tree trunk of a punch at me. I ducked—barely—but the sheer force sent dust flying everywhere.
"Okay, nope, plan required!" I yelled.
I backflipped to gain distance and saw Ging stealing a snack from one of the knocked-over proctors on the sidelines.
"Ging, what the hell are you doing?!"
"Powering up. You want some?"
"I WANT US TO WIN!"
"Relax," he said, tossing the snack wrapper over his shoulder. "I got this."
Then, with zero warning, he darted straight into the middle of the battlefield.
I barely had time to react before he grabbed my arm, spun me, and threw me at the brute.
"WHAT THE HELL, GING?!"
I had no choice but to roll with it. Using the momentum, I twisted midair and slammed both feet into the guy's chest, sending him stumbling backward.
Ging, meanwhile, teleported behind one of Team Two's members (not literally, but it felt like it), grinning as he poked them on the shoulder. "Tag. You're it."
Then he flicked them.
A simple flick.
But that single tap sent the poor guy flying into a tree.
I blinked. "…What the hell was that?"
"Dunno, just wanted to see what would happen," Ging admitted.
The remaining fighters looked at each other—then at us.
"…Okay, maybe we should rethink targeting them first," someone muttered.
"Agreed."
Unfortunately for them, we weren't going to let them get away that easily.
Ging immediately launched himself at one of the remaining fighters, dodging their punches with ridiculous ease before playfully tapping them on the forehead—causing them to faceplant into the ground like a ragdoll.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with the dagger woman. She was fast, but I had the advantage of being unpredictable—mostly because Ging had made me so used to chaos that I could react without thinking.
She lunged. I ducked. She spun, slashing at my side. I leaned back just enough to avoid the blade, then countered with a quick elbow strike.
She staggered, but wasn't down yet.
"Give up?" I asked, panting slightly.
She smirked. "Not a chance."
Then she feinted—pretending to aim for my chest but actually sweeping at my legs. I barely dodged in time, and—
WHACK!
Ging, out of nowhere, appeared behind her and bonked her on the head.
She went stiff—then collapsed unconscious.
I stared. "…Seriously?"
Ging shrugged. "She let her guard down."
"That's not how fights are supposed to work!"
"Worked, didn't it?"
At this point, only two fighters from Team One were left.
The leader of their trio, a man built like a tank, cracked his knuckles. "You guys are annoying."
"Aw, thanks," Ging said, grinning.
The final battle started with a charge.
The brute rushed Ging, attempting to literally bulldoze him, but Ging sidestepped at the last second, sticking his foot out just enough to trip him.
The guy's momentum worked against him.
He went flying.
And then—BOOM.
He crashed straight into his teammate, knocking both of them out in an instant.
Silence.
I turned to Ging. "You tripped him."
"Yup."
"And that worked?"
"Yup."
I exhaled. "I hate that you make things this easy."
"Hey, we won, didn't we?"
And just like that, it was over.
We were the last team standing.
Ging stretched, then turned to Netero, who was still watching from the sidelines with an extremely amused expression.
"So, do we get our Hunter licenses now, or what?" Ging asked.
Netero chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, my boy. We're just getting started."
Ging and I exchanged glances.
"Oh, come on!"
So, funny story.
Apparently, the test wasn't about beating everyone—it was about making someone surrender.
And that tiny detail? Completely slipped our minds.
Instead of trying to break their spirit, we were just going full battle mode, knocking people unconscious, dodging attacks, and generally making life harder for everyone.
Then Ging, in all his infinite wisdom, suddenly disappeared.
I blinked. "…Where the hell did he—"
Next thing I knew, he reappeared beside one of the three-man team members—specifically the one we had already knocked out cold.
He was holding a pair of scissors.
Where did he get the scissors?
No one knew.
Not me. Not Netero. Not the proctors.
Not even the universe itself.
But there he was, crouching down next to the unconscious man, holding the scissors dangerously close to a very sensitive area.
The entire battlefield froze.
Ging cleared his throat and, in the most casual voice possible, said, "Hey, buddy. I know you're knocked out, but I just want you to know… if you don't surrender in the next five seconds, I'm gonna make sure you never have kids, kids are troublesome, believe me it is for your own good»
Silence.
Even the wind stopped blowing.
Then the guy snapped awake like he had just seen God himself.
"I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER! OH MY GOD, I SURRENDER!"
The proctors confirmed it.
The three-man team was out.
Ging stood up, dusted himself off, and tossed the scissors over his shoulder like this was just another Tuesday.
I just stared at him.
"…What the actual hell, Ging?"
He shrugged. "You were the one who forgot the surrender rule. I was just being efficient."
"Efficient?! That was psychological terrorism!"
"Hey, whatever works, right?"
Netero, meanwhile, was wiping away tears of laughter. "Oh, I like this kid!"
And just like that, we were down to the last team: the actually competent four-person squad.
I exhaled. "Alright, Ging, I got this one."
He blinked. "You? What's your plan?"
I reached into my bag and pulled out a pair of makeshift noise-canceling headphones.
Ging tilted his head. "…Why do you have those?"
"For sleeping. You snore loud as hell."
He narrowed his eyes. "I do not."
"You do."
"Fine. What's the plan?"
I handed him one of the headphones, put on my own, and casually pressed play on my ultimate playlist of pure, unfiltered auditory hell.
Within seconds, the courtyard was filled with:
Baby shark on a five-hour loop.A poorly played recorder version of "My Heart Will Go On."That one really loud Minecraft cave sound that makes people paranoid.A man screaming, "HELLO? HELLO?? HELLOOOOOOOOOO???" on repeat.And the worst of them all: a Windows XP error sound that never stops.
We just stood there.
Silent. Calm. Unbothered.
Meanwhile, our opponents?
They lasted five minutes before the cracks started forming.
"Turn it off," one of them groaned, clutching his ears. "Turn it off!"
Another one started pacing like a madman. "No… no, I can handle this. I've trained for mental endurance. I can—"
Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo—
"MAKE IT STOP!"
The second girl in their group—probably the most rational of them—tried to cover her ears.
But that only made it worse.
One hour in, they started breaking.
Two hours in, one guy was curled up in the fetal position, whispering nonsense to himself.
Three hours in, their leader had started talking to the walls.
Four hours in, the first official surrender finally happened.
"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER!"
Netero's voice rang out: "Oh! And there we have it! One member has surrendered! That means… their team is out!"
But here's the thing.
We didn't hear it.
We just kept standing there, calmly dodging half-hearted attacks, completely in our own world.
Netero cleared his throat. "Uh… hello?"
No reaction.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Then fifteen.
Ging and I just kept dodging, completely unaware that we had already won.
Finally, Netero himself marched over to us, grabbed our headphones, and yanked them off.
I blinked. "…Oh hey, why did you do that?"
Ging yawned. "Did we win yet?"
Netero just stared.
Then, with a giant grin, he let out the loudest, most booming laugh I'd ever heard.
"BAHAHAHAHA! Oh, you two are horrible! I love it!"
Ging stretched. "Cool, so we won?"
"Oh, you passed, alright. Passed with flying colors! So congratualation becoming the youngest hunters of this generation."
The moment Ging and I officially passed the exam, I was expecting some grand celebration. Fireworks, a dramatic speech, maybe even a trophy with my name on it.
Instead, we got…
A tiny office room with a single table, two chairs, and a plate of what looked like slightly stale cookies.
Ging picked one up, sniffed it, and immediately put it back. "These are at least a week old."
Bean, the ever-diligent secretary, stood in front of us with the dullest expression imaginable, holding up two Hunter Licenses like they were library cards.
"Congratulations," he droned. "You are now officially licensed Hunters."
I looked around. "…This is it?"
Ging waved a hand in the air dramatically. "Where's the confetti? The marching band? The beautifull Aunt that delivers a motivational speech?"
Bean did not even blink. "You may now take your Hunter Licenses and proceed to the orientation session, where I will explain the official Hunter rules."
I frowned. "Do we have to?"
"Yes."
Bean led us into a much larger office, where a giant screen was already set up, presumably to bombard us with rules and regulations that neither of us had any intention of following.
He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "The first thing you must understand about being a Hunter is—"
After 5 minutes ,Ging grabbed my wrist. "Wanna go get food?"
"Absolutely."
We immediately turned around and walked right back out the door.
Bean's voice followed us. "You can't just leave—"
"Pretty sure we can!" Ging called over his shoulder.
"You need to understand the ethical responsibilities—"
"I promise to ethically enjoy my next meal."
"There are specific missions only Hunters can—"
"Yup, sounds important, see ya!"
Bean let out a deep, exhausted sigh but didn't stop us.
We were officially Hunters now.
And that meant one very important thing.
No one could tell us what to do… SO what should we do now?