Netero stopped before moving away from the airship’s door and turned his gaze toward Tonpa.
Tonpa’s feet stopped as well.
The distance between them was not great, but it was more than enough to remind him that the old man standing before him was not merely the Chairman of the Hunter Association.
He was one of the strongest people in this world—and could probably tell Tonpa was lying before he even opened his mouth.
‘Too late to back out now.’
He continued forward until he stood before the crowd, then bowed respectfully.
“Forgive me for interrupting, Chairman, but this test was not fair.”
The voices behind him fell silent for a moment.
Of all the applicants present, no one had expected Tonpa to be the first to speak on their behalf.
Netero raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Not fair?”
“No.”
The word came out far steadier than Tonpa felt.
He turned halfway around, keeping himself facing Netero while making sure the rest of the applicants could see his face and hear him clearly.
That part mattered.
A speech the audience could not see was little more than wasted conversation.
“Some of the people here traveled from distant cities.
Others spent everything they had just to reach this place.
We risked our lives in the tunnel and the wetlands, then hunted pigs capable of killing a man with a single charge.”
‘Minor detail: Gon caught my pig.’
He gestured toward the marks left on the applicants’ clothing and the dishes scattered across the examination grounds.
“I am not saying we deserve to pass simply because we struggled.
This is the Hunter Exam, and failure is part of it.
But we should at least be given a genuine chance to succeed.
When everyone fails because no one can satisfy a single examiner’s palate, perhaps the problem does not lie with every applicant.”
‘What I actually want is to pass without another test.’
Tonpa paused long enough for his words to settle over the crowd, then continued in a quieter voice.
“Some of us were injured before reaching this place.
Some may not have enough left to try again next year.
If we do not deserve to become Hunters, then let the test prove it.
Ending everyone’s attempt this way does not measure our abilities.
It only proves that we do not know how to cook.”
‘As for my cooking, it received exactly the verdict it deserved.’
A murmur of agreement spread behind him.
Tonpa studied the surrounding faces with a quick glance.
Some were genuinely listening, and others had begun nodding before he even finished.
He had no need to invent a tragedy.
Everything he said was either true or likely enough to be true in a crowd this large.
The real deception lay in the reason he had chosen to say it.
He had deliberately said “we,” and just as deliberately avoided asking for anything that would benefit him alone.
People distrusted a man who argued for his own interests, but they loved a man who gave voice to their anger—even if that voice belonged to a known con artist.
And motives, fortunately, only showed on a man’s face when he was bad at his job.
“What kind of nonsense is this?”
The voice came from the middle of the crowd.
Its owner was one of the applicants who knew Tonpa from previous Hunter Exams.
You’ve spent years trying to crush rookies!”
A few mocking smiles appeared, and the expressions of some who had begun to believe him shifted.
Tonpa felt his plan tilting in the wrong direction, but he had expected the attack.
Denying his past would end everything.
He lowered his head slightly.
“You’re right.”
Some of the smiles disappeared.
Tonpa raised his eyes again, keeping his voice calm.
“I’ve done things I am not proud of, and you have every right not to trust me.
But being a bad person does not make what happened here fair.
If I am wrong, then tell me what is wrong with my argument—not what is wrong with my life.”
A brief silence followed.
Admitting to wrongdoing was not a bad way to earn trust, especially when you chose which part of the wrongdoing to confess.
The man looked around, but no answer came readily to him.
Nearby, a young applicant spoke up.
“He’s right about the test.”
Another agreed.
Then scattered voices began demanding that they be given a second chance.
Not everyone believed Tonpa had changed; he could see open contempt on several faces.
Others, however, stared at him in surprise, as though standing before the Chairman of the Hunter Association was proof enough that his remorse was genuine.
It was proof of nothing, of course, except that Tonpa knew where to stand when he wanted everyone to see him.
The chime he had been waiting for finally sounded.
[Deception Registered.]
[Nen Points +1]
[Experience Points +1]
Tonpa nearly smiled, but a second notification appeared before the first had vanished.
[Deception Registered.]
[Nen Points +2]
[Experience Points +2]
Then came a third.
[Deception Registered.]
[Nen Points +1]
[Experience Points +1]
A fourth and fifth followed.
The windows began appearing one after another before his eyes, some granting a single point and others two or more depending on how difficult the target had been to deceive.
At first, Tonpa tried to keep a running total, but he lost count when each new notification appeared before he could finish reading the previous one.
He did not know how many people had believed him or how many points he had earned.
He only knew that the chiming had not stopped.
Throughout the tunnel, he had been forced to chase down rookies and speak to them one at a time.
Now he was simply standing in place and watching the points come to him.
‘All this from one speech?’
The plan’s success surpassed even his expectations.
He had hoped to deceive a handful of people, not turn his speech into a continuous stream of notifications.
For a moment, he almost forgot that Netero was still standing in front of him and that he needed to maintain the expression of a remorseful man concerned about everyone’s future.
‘Do not smile, you idiot.’
He kept his face serious with some difficulty. New chapters come out on novelping.com first.
This was not the time to open his Status; he could count his profits later, when the Chairman of the Hunter Association was no longer standing in front of him.
Behind him, Gon was watching him with visible relief.
Kurapika remained more guarded, while Leorio leaned toward him and whispered something Tonpa could not hear.
Killua, however, did not appear moved by the speech.
He stared at Tonpa through narrowed eyes until a small smile appeared on his face.
Tonpa did not like that smile.
‘I do not need everyone.’
Especially not the child who had been trained from birth to notice when a person’s actions did not match their intentions.
Netero waited for the demands to subside, then clasped his hands behind his back.
“I understand your objection.
What do you propose?”
The question came exactly as Tonpa had expected, yet tension returned to his stomach all the same.
Netero had not defended Menchi, dismissed the complaint, or shown the slightest sign that the speech had moved him.
He merely asked the question as though he wanted to see the next step in the con.
Tonpa could not tell whether it was curiosity or a test, but he disliked both possibilities.
This was the true turning point of his plan.
Complaining was easy; any angry person could do it.
Offering a solution he had known about before the problem even arose was what would make him look prepared—and perhaps raise his value in the eyes of the main characters.
He pointed toward the distant mountains.
This was one of the few details from the original test that his memory had preserved clearly.
Whether the mountain was truly as close as the anime had made it seem was another matter, but hesitating now would only invite questions.
“There is a split mountain nearby, with a deep chasm dividing its two halves.
Spider Eagles live in the crevices beneath it, hanging their nests far beyond the reach of predators.”
Menchi’s expression changed for the first time.
She turned fully toward him and studied him with sudden focus.
Tonpa noticed, but continued before she could interrupt.
“Their eggs are edible, but retrieving one requires courage, balance, and the ability to judge danger.
A Hunter needs those qualities far more than knowing how much salt belongs on roast pork.”
A new murmur rose from the applicants, different from the last.
Most of them had no idea what a Spider Eagle was, but the promise of a test they might actually pass was enough to capture their interest.
“I propose that each applicant retrieve an egg personally, then boil it and serve it to the examiners.
Anyone who succeeds in bringing one back should advance to the next phase.”
Netero remained silent as he watched him.
Tonpa could read nothing in his eyes.
The old man appeared perfectly calm, but calm from someone like him was hardly reassuring.
He had probably understood that justice was not Tonpa’s true motive before the airship had even touched the ground.
Netero shifted his gaze toward Menchi.
Her attention remained fixed on Tonpa, but she offered no objection.
“Spider Eagle eggs…”
Netero repeated the words slowly.
Then a faint smile appeared beneath his mustache.
Tonpa could not tell whether it was a smile of approval or whether the old man had simply found something amusing in his plan.
‘That means he agrees…
right?’