HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

When Pariston heard Cyr's response, his smile didn't falter. His gaze shifted from the white-haired boy to the blond figure standing three steps behind him.

"I don't know anything," Maro said, shaking his head under Pariston's scrutiny.

"I see… I was hoping to learn something from the two of you, the only survivors," Pariston replied, still smiling.

"Has the interview started already? If you've got questions, hurry up and ask—I'm very busy," the white-haired, blue-eyed boy said lazily, his impatience apparent.

He was, after all, busy planning how to make money to buy pets and weapons. Every wasted minute was money slipping through his fingers.

"Oh ho ho—seems like you're in a rush…" Netero, the chairman, chuckled. His warm, grandfatherly smile was nothing like Pariston's unsettling grin.

"The interview should be conducted indoors. Come with me," he said, hands clasped behind his back as he walked ahead at a leisurely pace.

From his posture and demeanor, he looked like nothing more than a regular old man.

"This has nothing to do with me, so I'll take my leave, Chairman Netero," Pariston said with a cheerful tone, remaining where he stood.

Netero simply waved him off without saying anything.

Cyr and Maro followed Netero into a private room.

Inside, pink curtains and green leather sofas made up the decor. The strange color combination drew an involuntary twitch from Cyr's mouth, but he ultimately ignored the design. He pulled out a chair and sat down directly.

Maro stood behind Cyr's chair, handing him a cup of tea.

"Brew this," Cyr said, pulling a health-replenishing potion out of his backpack and handing it to Maro.

Without sparing a glance at the others in the room, Maro meticulously rinsed the teacup three times with hot water before pouring the potion into it.

Netero watched the scene unfold with an amused smile. Only when Cyr sipped the concoction did he speak.

"What do you think of Hisoka Morow as a candidate?"

Huh? Why ask about that guy?

Well, Cyr thought, Hisoka is relatively normal when he's not being a complete psychopath. But most of the time, he is a deranged, battle-crazed maniac.

"…He's a diligent farmer," Cyr replied after some thought, his tone utterly serious.

For a moment, the room fell into a peculiar silence.

If anyone wondered what "irrelevant answers" looked like, this was it.

"What were your thoughts when fighting him?" Netero pressed further.

"His abilities? Sticky and kind of gross," Cyr replied, setting down his cup and resting a finger on his chin. Despite calling it gross, a cryptic smile played on his lips.

"I see," Netero said, nodding in understanding.

Even though Cyr's answers were largely meaningless, Netero didn't seem bothered. Any response from a candidate reflected a part of their personality.

And Cyr's responses implied something interesting—he wasn't particularly repulsed by Hisoka's methods, even after their recent intense battle.

What an intriguing newcomer, Netero thought. Hunters were inherently willful people, and this boy seemed like a natural fit for the title.

"What's your hunting goal?" Netero asked next.

Every Hunter needed a purpose, a rule established by none other than Isaac Netero himself.

"Right now, money," the white-haired, blue-eyed boy said nonchalantly.

Hunting for money was a common enough reason for becoming a Hunter. But from the way Cyr carried himself, he didn't seem like someone who lacked funds—more like someone who didn't care about wealth at all.

"And you?" Netero turned to the blond boy.

Maro Perlisha—a member of the Perlisha family, one of the world's largest mafia organizations.

Although the Hunter Association doesn't restrict candidates based on their background, candidates like this were still rare.

"I want to become a top-notch Gourmet Hunter and create even more delicious food," the blond boy said with a calm smile, his gaze meeting Netero's directly.

However, whenever his eyes turned toward the white-haired boy, his gaze would drop slightly.

This implied that, in Maro Perlisha's mind, the white-haired boy, Cyr, held a status even higher than Netero's.

A member of a mafia family with a dream of becoming a Gourmet Hunter?

It was as peculiar as hearing that a member of the Zoldyck assassin family aspired to contribute positively to society. Awkward… but undeniably intriguing.

"I see. Well then, congratulations—you both passed," Netero said decisively, stroking his beard.

"Ah, finally over," Cyr said, standing up and stretching. "By the way, how much could a Hunter's License fetch if pawned?"

"It should fetch a considerable amount, but oh ho ho, this old man doesn't know the exact figure," Netero replied vaguely, dodging the question with a laugh.

"Alright." Cyr yawned, clearly not pressing the matter further.

On January 11, 1998, after finishing the exam and enduring the lecture from the "mascot" bald examiner, Cyr successfully obtained his Hunter's License. Most of the credit for this achievement, however, went to Hisoka, who had significantly shortened the exam duration.

After obtaining the license, Cyr and Maro didn't linger in the hotel the Hunter Association had provided. Instead, they packed up and left immediately.

"Where can we make quick money…" Cyr muttered, standing amidst the bustling streets and deep in thought.

In the original story, the Heaven's Arena seemed like a good option—it was said that fighters could earn over two billion Jenny in total by reaching either the 190th or 200th floor.

Additionally, during matches, bets were placed, and it was possible to gamble on who would win.

If Cyr and Maro fought their way to the 190th floor, they could earn four billion Jenny, and with additional bets along the way...

Perhaps a trip to the Heaven's Arena could secure enough money to purchase that pet.

"We're going to the Heaven's Arena," Cyr decided without hesitation.

Maro, of course, had no objections and eagerly accepted the decision.

In Maro's mind, the master he followed was the strongest of all.

Even the chairman of the Hunter Association was merely old. If his master wanted to, he could undoubtedly become the chairman as well.

Thus, every decision made by such a powerful master had to be correct.

The two quickly purchased tickets for the next airship and headed toward the Heaven's Arena.

The Heaven's Arena was the fourth tallest building in the Hunter world, standing 991 meters tall with 251 floors.

There was a designated landing area for airships, and the daily foot traffic exceeded tens of thousands. Each match had a sizable audience, cheering loudly or booing from the stands.

Even for newcomers, there would be spectators in the crowd either rooting for them or jeering. As for matches above the 200th floor, tickets were so sought-after they needed to be fought over.

It was fair to say that the Heaven's Arena was a place where money flowed in by the millions daily.

"This is my first time here… so many people…" Maro muttered as he glanced around.

The moment they stepped through the main entrance, they were greeted by a multitude of people dressed in various martial arts uniforms.

At the front desk, there was already a long line of people registering for their matches, stretching all the way to the door.

In the nearby lounge area, many participants who had finished registering were seated, waiting for announcements about their matches.

Ah… waiting in line was boring. Cyr had no interest in standing around.

With Maro in tow, Cyr casually cut to the very front of the line, ignoring the dark and furious glares from the people behind them. He filled out the registration form and handed it to the receptionist, who was already accustomed to such behavior and maintained her flawless professional smile.

"There are no special rules for the matches. You may use any method you wish; as long as you defeat your opponent within the allotted time, you will be declared the winner."

"Please wait in the lounge area for a while. We will arrange your first match shortly," the receptionist said politely.

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