Tonpa looked at Killua, then at the seat the boy had taken after spending more than ten minutes chasing the ball.
“I recover quickly when seats are available.”
Killua narrowed his eyes but did not answer.
He turned back toward the center of the room, where Gon was still trying to take the ball from Netero by himself.
Gon rushed him from the front.
Netero leaned aside and let him pass.
The boy turned quickly and tried to seize his arm, but the old man drew the ball away and hopped sideways on the same leg, carrying it beyond Gon’s reach.
Gon passed him again without his fingers touching so much as Netero’s clothes.
Killua watched with obvious irritation.
Sweat had plastered several strands of hair to his forehead, and his fingers moved against his knee as though he were resisting the urge to rejoin the game immediately.
He did not seem accustomed to failure.
From the way his eyes followed every one of Netero’s movements, Tonpa guessed that not understanding why he was failing bothered him even more than the failure itself.
Tonpa saw an opportunity.
He straightened in his seat, folded his arms, and lowered his eyelids slightly.
It was the expression he used whenever he wanted to convince a victim that he understood the market better than the experts did.
The expression of a man who understood everything, even if he had only understood half of it.
He spoke calmly.
“Neither of you is going to take that ball from him.”
Killua turned toward him.
“What did you say?”
“I said neither of you will take it.
Not like this.”
Killua gave him a narrow look.
“Since when are you an expert?
You’re the slowest person in the room.”
The observation was irritatingly accurate.
Tonpa chose to ignore it and gestured toward Netero with his chin.
“Watch him carefully.”
Killua returned his attention to the game.
Gon attacked from the left.
Netero moved away with a short hop on the leg he had been using.
The boy tried to change direction in the middle of his rush, but the old man raised the ball above his head and pivoted around him on the same foot.
The attempt ended with Gon landing on his hands while Netero remained where he was, smiling.
Killua asked:
“What am I supposed to see?”
Tonpa waited until Gon rose and began another attempt.
“Since we started, he has only used one hand and one leg.”
Killua’s fingers went still against his knee.
He continued watching Netero, but this time he did not focus on the ball.
His gaze moved between the old man’s shoulders and feet, following every hop and evasion.
Gon charged again.
Netero avoided him with the same leg.
When the boy approached the ball, he moved it away with the same hand.
He had not used the other two limbs at all.
Killua’s expression slowly changed.
“He’s…”
“Playing with us,” Tonpa finished.
“He hasn’t been using all his strength to stop us.
He placed a restriction on himself and didn’t even bother telling us about it.”
Killua did not answer immediately.
He kept watching Netero, his jaw tightening as Tonpa’s observation proved itself.
His inability to take the ball did not seem to be the only thing bothering him.
Realizing that Netero was treating him like a child appeared to have struck somewhere more sensitive.
After a moment, he asked:
“How did you notice?”
Tonpa raised his chin slightly.
That was the question he had been waiting for.
“Experience.” This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Killua looked at his stomach, then at his dirty clothes, before returning his gaze to Tonpa’s face.
“You?”
“I’ve taken the Hunter Exam more than thirty times.
Don’t look at the results.
We’re discussing experience, not success.”
“Thirty failed attempts don’t make you an expert.”
“They make me an expert at understanding why people fail.”
Killua did not immediately find an answer to that.
Tonpa took advantage of the silence and continued in a confident tone.
“I simply never trained seriously over the years.
If I had, I would be the strongest applicant in this exam.”
Killua stared at him for two seconds.
Then he gave a short laugh.
“You?
The strongest?”
“The talent is there.”
Killua looked at his stomach again.
“Where?”
“Under a layer of protection.”
Another laugh escaped Killua before he returned his attention to Gon.
Judging from that laugh, he had not believed a word of Tonpa’s boasting, but his mockery lacked the wariness that had once accompanied every conversation between them.
Ding!
The system’s chime pierced Tonpa’s thoughts.
[Killua Zoldyck’s Trust: 5% → 6%]
Tonpa blinked once and dismissed the window.
He guessed that the increase had not occurred because Killua believed he was a neglected genius.
The reason was simpler.
Tonpa’s presence had become familiar enough for the boy to trade insults with him without searching every sentence for a trap.
‘One percent in exchange for an insult to my stomach.’
It was an acceptable trade.
Gon failed another attempt, but immediately got back up and prepared to attack again.
Killua watched him and said:
“Even if he’s only using half his limbs, that doesn’t mean we can’t take the ball.
We just need to move faster.”
“Forget the ball.”
Killua turned sharply toward him.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know who the man in front of you is.”
Killua raised an eyebrow.
“He’s Netero, Chairman of the Hunter Association.
He introduced himself earlier.”
“That’s only his name and position.
I didn’t say you couldn’t read a name tag.”
Killua fell silent and waited for him to continue.
Tonpa lowered his voice as though he were about to share information an ordinary applicant had no right to know.
“During one of my previous attempts, I overheard two examiners talking about him.
They said he had been considered the strongest fighter in the Hunter Association for decades.”
That part was not far from the truth.
What Tonpa added next was entirely his own.
“Once, several professional Hunters wagered that at least one of them could touch his clothes within an hour.
They all attacked him.
In the end, not only had they failed to touch him, but he had also taken their Hunter Licenses from their pockets during the fight.”
Killua regarded him with suspicion.
“And you happened to overhear this?”
“I was eavesdropping.”
“I have educational hobbies.”
The suspicion remained on Killua’s face, but he returned his attention to Netero.
Gon was attacking the old man with everything he had, while Netero continued smiling and evading him on one leg.
Tonpa did not know how much of the story Killua had accepted, but the boy no longer appeared to regard the incident with the stolen licenses as an obvious lie.
Netero’s effortless movements made it plausible enough for him to accept it for the moment.
Ding!
Another system chime sounded inside Tonpa’s head.
[Deception Registered.]
[Target: Killua Zoldyck]
[Nen Points +5]
[Experience Points +5]
[Total Nen Points: 96]
[Experience Points: 536/600]
Tonpa dismissed the notifications without disturbing his serious expression.
‘Five points for a story I invented while sitting down.’
That was better than running after the ball.
Killua said:
“So you think taking the ball is impossible?”
“The way we’re attacking him now?
Yes.”
‘And within the hour the system gave me?
Definitely.’
Killua’s narrowed eyes and tightening fingers made his displeasure with the answer obvious.
Tonpa understood people like him.
Telling him that something was impossible would not make him retreat.
It would only make him want it more.
Tonpa therefore made no attempt to stop him from returning to the game.
He only needed to change what counted as victory.
Tonpa rose from his seat and brushed the dust from his clothes, then looked at Netero with an irritated expression.
This time, not all of the irritation was an act.
Watching the old man evade them while using only half his limbs was unpleasant, particularly after Tonpa had spent two hundred Nen Points on Speed and Flexibility and remained the slowest person in the room.
He said:
“But that doesn’t mean we have to accept his mockery.”
Killua looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t like losing.”
Killua raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve taken the Hunter Exam more than thirty times without passing it.”
“I said I don’t like losing, not that I lack experience with it.”
Tonpa gestured toward Netero.
“Taking the ball is the victory Netero defined.
Our victory will be forcing him to abandon the restriction he placed on himself.”
Interest began replacing the irritation in Killua’s eyes.
Tonpa continued:
“If he’s confident enough to stop us from taking the ball with one hand and one leg, then we’ll force him to use the other two.”
Killua looked at the two limbs Netero had not used, then back at Tonpa.
A small smile appeared on Tonpa’s face, concealing the timer counting down before his eyes.
“We don’t need to take the ball.”
He fixed his gaze on the old man.
“We only need to make him use all four limbs.”
________________________________
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See you in the next chapter.
And remember: never accept juice from Tonpa.