HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

Sitting by the river, idly tossing stones in frustration over his failed dish, Hisoka suddenly heard the roar of a tiger from the exam site.

That tiger… was probably Little Apple's pet, right?

Did someone piss him off and make him take action?

Hisoka stood up and made his way toward the examination hall.

When he arrived, the scene before him was utter chaos—unconscious bodies sprawled across the floor, with only a few examinees still standing.

The moment he stepped into the room, a biting chill hit him. Frost still clung to the walls, unmelted icicles dangling from the ceiling.

On a black sofa, the white-haired boy lounged lazily. He leaned forward slightly, one hand resting on the massive tiger's head, the other propping up his face.

"Have you all calmed down now?" His tone was bored, as if the chaos before him was nothing more than an inconvenience. The dark markings on his face gave him an air of mysterious danger.

"Menchi, Chairman Netero asked me to relay two questions to you," he said, looking toward the pink-haired woman, whose face still held traces of frustration.

"First—what exactly is being tested in this round?" He raised a single finger, his tone casual.

Menchi froze.

"Second—on what grounds are the examinees being disqualified?" He raised a second finger.

"If you can provide an answer that convinces everyone, then as you said, they all fail."

"But if your explanation doesn't hold up…"

"Then your decision is void."

"If you have any objections, take it up with Chairman Netero. I'm just the messenger, seriously…" As he muttered that last part, his expression darkened with impatience.

"You should know by now—Maro and I have dealt with a similar situation before, haven't we?"

"If I were the one facing such a stubborn examiner…" Cyr smirked, letting out a quiet scoff.

"And Hisoka—dial back your bloodlust. You don't want Menchi making more rash decisions because of you, do you?" His gaze flickered toward the magician, his words carrying a sense of familiarity.

"…Hmm~" Hisoka's lips curled into an amused smile. He arched an eyebrow but, surprisingly, withdrew his oppressive aura.

"Thank goodness, he's on our side," Tonpa exaggeratedly sighed in relief.

"Mr. Tonpa, who is he, exactly?" Gon asked curiously, his eyes filled with questions.

Despite looking only a year or two older than them, Cyr was seated among the examiners, watching their test unfold like it had nothing to do with him.

And… one of the examiners treated him with an almost reverent respect?

"He and that blond examiner over there—those are the two who passed the exam last year. The only two," Tonpa explained, shaking his head with emotion.

"Last year, we also had an unreasonable examiner. Wouldn't even taste our food before failing us…"

"And? What happened? How did they pass?" Killua asked, his gaze locked onto Cyr.

For some reason, he just couldn't ignore this guy.

There was something so familiar about him—closer than family, even.

It didn't make any sense, but the feeling was undeniable.

"Well…" Tonpa hesitated, stealing a quick glance at Cyr.

"Just like this year's examinees, he took matters into his own hands."

"But unlike us, he was strong—far stronger."

"He took down all three examiners, stomped on their heads, and forced them to eat every single piece of food they had knocked over, bite by bite."

"And then he told them that if they dared to fail him or revoke his qualification, he'd kill them on the spot."

Tonpa exaggerated the story, expecting his audience to be horrified.

But instead—

"That's so cool!" Gon's eyes sparkled with admiration.

"Nice work." Killua's tone was full of admiration.

"A year ago, he was the same age as Gon and Killua are now, right? That's pretty impressive," Kurapika analyzed seriously, nodding in agreement.

The surrounding examinees who had overheard the conversation also looked surprised and impressed.

A test-taker had challenged the examiners—an act of defiance against authority—and actually succeeded.

Since he had gone through the same thing, it meant he was on their side.

Somehow, the white-haired boy's favorability skyrocketed among the group.

Tonpa, on the other hand, looked utterly disappointed.

These guys… why weren't they scared along with him?! That guy was just as much of a lunatic as Hisoka—one wrong word and boom!

"Menchi, have you figured out your answer yet? I'm hungry." Cyr spoke lazily.

The exam had started at noon, and now it was nearing dinnertime.

If he didn't get his dinner, he would get mad.

"Menchi, hurry up and decide. Don't waste the lord's dinnertime." Maro was even more anxious than Cyr himself, urging her impatiently.

Without Hisoka's taunting bloodlust pressuring her, and with the chill in the air cooling her head, Menchi finally calmed down.

She began reflecting on her own decision.

This phase of the exam was meant to test the examinees' observation skills and willingness to challenge the unknown.

But she had let their dismissive attitude toward cooking, the exposure of sushi-making techniques, her own overfilled stomach, and Hisoka's occasional bursts of killing intent push her into an irrational judgment.

"Yeah… I was too impulsive in declaring everyone unqualified," Menchi admitted dejectedly.

"I don't deserve to be an examiner anymore…" She was about to voluntarily step down.

"You could just redo it." Cyr cut her off.

"The third phase doesn't have a strict time limit. Just move to a new location, change the task, and do it over."

"If they think cooking itself isn't important, then pick a task that actually tests their skills. Some ingredients are tough to acquire, aren't they?"

"My airship is available—you can use it to take them to a new site." The white-haired boy stood up and walked toward the door.

"Decide where you're going fast. It's almost dinnertime." As he passed by Menchi, he casually reminded her, "The committee never said they'd strip you of your examiner title."

"And personally, I think the fact that you can acknowledge your mistakes toward the weaker ones is already commendable."

Walking toward the light, his figure seemed to merge with it.

Behind him, a golden-haired young man and a white tiger followed closely.

"Then… let's go there!" Menchi's expression brightened as she pointed to a distant, barely visible mountain peak.

"The new task—boiled eggs!" she announced with enthusiasm.

"Yes!" The examinees, thrilled by their second chance, erupted into cheers.

"Thank you." Gon approached Cyr, his voice full of sincerity.

"It has nothing to do with me—I was just relaying a message." The white-haired boy waved him off, indifferent to the gratitude.

"And I don't think Menchi was wrong."

"After all, the strong have the right to be willful." He smiled lightly.

If Netero hadn't called, he wouldn't have bothered interfering at all.

He had been in this world for over two years now—he'd already forgotten most of the original storyline.

But with the protagonist group involved, there was no way the exam would just end in failure.

"But Mr. Tonpa said that last year you also—" Gon tilted his head in curiosity.

"Last year?" Cyr replied matter-of-factly. "That's because I was stronger than the examiners."

"So I got to be willful. They didn't get to be willful in front of me."

His voice was calm, his face showing no trace of arrogance or defiance—just a simple statement of fact, as if it were an unchangeable rule of nature.

Gon fell into deep thought after hearing that.

"But among you, some of you also have more right to be willful than Menchi does." Cyr's gaze flickered toward the Nailhead Man and Hisoka.

For them, killing an examiner wouldn't even be difficult.

"Oh?" Killua sounded intrigued.

"Alright, get on the airship. If we keep talking, I'll start charging you." Cyr pushed them toward the cabin doors.

"Huh?! Talking costs money now?!" Killua fluffed up like an offended cat.

"Keep talking, and I'll start charging you airship fare." Cyr's tone was casual.

"You—" Killua opened his mouth to argue.

"Mmmph!" Leorio suddenly clamped a hand over Killua's mouth, preventing him from speaking further.

He was broke.

He couldn't afford to risk it.

°°°

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