[You have obtained—]
[A Special Skill!]
Tonpa kept staring at the two lines, waiting for a third to appear and inform him that there had been some mistake.
Nothing appeared.
He had actually obtained a skill on his very first draw.
It wasn’t an ordinary item, an unknown material, or one of those prizes of “limited usefulness” the description had warned him about.
Skills were among the best rewards the Hunter’s Lottery could grant, and he had landed one after approaching the wheel with no ambition beyond avoiding a spoon.
He glanced at his remaining balance, then back at the result.
‘Maybe being transferred into Tonpa’s body used up my entire allotment of bad luck.’
He refused to trust that thought for long.
Luck willing to hand him something this easily might simply be planning a more creative way to humiliate him.
A new window appeared.
[Would you like to acquire this skill?]
[Yes/No]
There was no reason to refuse.
He had already paid a hundred Nen Points, and the skill was theoretically his.
Even if it turned out to be useless, leaving it suspended inside the system wouldn’t improve the result.
He selected Yes.
[Skill successfully acquired.]
A strange sensation seeped into his mind, far gentler than the heat that had accompanied his stat upgrades.
No new information entered his memory, yet he instinctively understood how to select a target and activate the skill.
It felt like recalling a movement he had practiced for years, despite being certain he had never performed it once.
Tonpa waited for the name of the ability luck had finally seen fit to grant him.
[Skill Name: Is That Your Mother?]
The smile froze on his face.
He blinked slowly, then read the name again.
His gaze lingered on the final word, expecting the rest of the sentence to appear once the window made room for it.
Nothing appeared.
“Shit.”
The word escaped before he could stop it.
He stared at the wheel as it vanished, then returned his attention to the name as though objecting hard enough might force the system to reconsider.
‘Is That Your Mother?
That’s the skill I spent a hundred Nen Points on?’
For a moment, he suspected the prize itself was a scam—something he might have respected if he weren’t the victim.
He opened the description, most of his earlier excitement already gone.
[Type: Mental Distraction Skill]
[Cost: None]
[Uses: Unlimited]
[Activation Condition: Ask the designated target, “Is that your mother?” aloud.]
[Effect: Upon successful activation, the target will instinctively turn and search their surroundings for their mother.]
[The target’s resistance increases according to their strength and willpower relative to the Host.]
[The effect may partially or completely fail against targets with high resistance.]
Tonpa reread the description, hoping he had somehow misunderstood it.
He hadn’t.
Again.
His grand prize was the power to make someone look for their mother.
A seven-year-old?’
The Con Artist System, the Hunter’s Lottery, and now “Is That Your Mother?” He was supposed to become the strongest Hunter in the world and conquer the Dark Continent, while his secret weapon sounded like something children shouted before stealing one another’s seats.
Still, he didn’t close the description.
The skill cost no Nen, had no daily limit, and came with no cooldown.
The only problem was that stronger targets could resist it, but he had no idea what “high resistance” meant in practice.
Perhaps the target would ignore the question entirely.
Perhaps they would turn for only a fraction of a second.
He needed to test it.
Tonpa stepped away from the wall and headed back toward the front of the building, but he didn’t approach the table where Gon and the others were sitting.
Instead, he stopped at the corner and studied the applicants, searching for someone weak enough for the skill to work and unimportant enough not to remember him afterward.
He found a thin young man sitting alone on a low stone, rubbing his exhausted leg while drinking water.
He looked younger than most of the applicants and carried no visible weapon.
More importantly, he wasn’t watching Tonpa with suspicion.
‘The perfect candidate for an involuntary search for his mother.’
Tonpa approached at an easy pace.
The young man looked up.
“Do you want something?”
Tonpa stopped a short distance away and selected him as the target, just as the system had taught him.
“Is that your mother?”
The young man turned immediately.
He didn’t merely glance over his shoulder.
He raised his head and searched between the tables, then swept his gaze across the applicants standing near the building.
It lasted less than two seconds, but the effect was unmistakable.
His body had moved before his mind could question the command.
“Where?” he asked, still searching.
Tonpa watched him closely.
“I thought I saw her.”
The young man looked back at him, confusion seeping into his expression.
“Wait…
Why did I turn around in the first place?”
He glanced once more toward the place he had searched, then frowned.
“My mother isn’t here.
I know she isn’t here, so why did I believe that nonsense?”
Tonpa raised an eyebrow.
“Good question.”
He walked away before the young man could come up with a response and returned behind the corner.
He had to admit the skill had worked better than expected.
The target hadn’t hesitated when it activated.
He had turned first, and only after the effect ended had his mind begun objecting and asking questions.
Tonpa waited for the familiar notification.
Nothing came.
He opened the system log.
His balance remained at five Nen Points, and no Experience had been added.
‘He believed his mother was there.
As if responding to his objection, a message appeared.
[No qualifying deception detected.]
[A response produced by the coercive effect of a System Skill does not qualify as deception or persuasion.]
A small hope he had refused to admit existed quietly withered away.
For a moment, he had imagined asking every applicant the same question until the points piled up without end.
Apparently, the system had found the loophole and closed it before he could exploit it.
After reconsidering the scene, Tonpa understood why.
The young man had never truly believed his mother was among the applicants.
The confusion had remained in his eyes even while he turned.
The skill had forced his body to respond before his mind could judge the question.
The system rewarded Tonpa for changing what a target believed, not for forcibly rotating their neck.
‘At least it knows how to protect itself from con artists.’
He dismissed the log and peered at the young man from behind the wall.
The applicant was still staring at him strangely, but after a few moments, he returned to drinking his water.
The experiment hadn’t earned Tonpa any points, but it had changed his opinion of the skill.
Forcing someone to turn wasn’t impressive during an ordinary conversation, but in a fight, it could make a very real difference.
One second was enough to escape, land a blow, or tear something from an opponent’s hand.
And in the Fourth Phase of the exam, when badges became targets, a single moment of distraction might be worth the entire phase.
The name was ridiculous.
The effect wasn’t.
The real problem remained the target’s resistance.
Success against one exhausted applicant didn’t mean it would work against someone with powerful will or someone capable of using Nen.
Tonpa needed to test it gradually against stronger targets until he understood its limits.
He considered trying it on Gon, then discarded the idea.
He had spent far too long raising Gon’s Trust Level by five miserable percentage points.
He had no desire to waste that progress by suddenly asking the boy about his mother.
Killua would notice that something unnatural had happened.
Kurapika would add it to his growing list of reasons to remain suspicious.
As for Leorio, he might turn around and then come back swinging.
Tonpa needed someone strong whose reaction he didn’t fear.
Unfortunately, that condition disqualified nearly every strong person present.
His gaze drifted toward the crowd on its own.
He didn’t have to search for long.
Hisoka sat apart from the others, idly turning a playing card between his fingers as he waited for the maintenance work to end without showing the slightest sign of boredom.
The thought entered Tonpa’s mind before he could stop it.
‘Is that your mother?’
He imagined himself saying it and waiting for the result.
If it worked, he would know the skill could affect even someone powerful.
If it failed, he would learn where its limits began.
A single test could give him an important answer.
Then he pictured Hisoka turning toward him instead of searching for anyone else.
Tonpa slowly retreated behind the wall.
‘Excellent idea—if I was looking for a faster way to die.’
He wasn’t in that much of a hurry to discover the skill’s limits.
He would begin with people who could turn around without removing his head afterward.
As for Hisoka, he could continue searching for his mother on his own.