As Ronnel passed by Pariston, their paths momentarily aligning, a soft, polite voice broke the silence, causing him to pause.
"Hello, my name is Pariston. I look forward to your guidance in the future~"
After a brief pause, Ronnel replied.
The moment Pariston addressed him by name, Ronnel knew that Pariston had already uncovered his identity. There was no point in pretending otherwise, so he admitted it openly.
How much Pariston truly knew about him, however, remained a mystery.
As he spoke, Ronnel kept his gaze forward, never once looking at Pariston. He assumed the same was true for Pariston, who likely wasn't sparing him a glance either.
Ordinarily, such introductions would involve a handshake or some other polite gesture, especially at such close proximity. But Pariston had a peculiar way of doing things. Without facing each other, their conversation gave off the illusion of equality, as if neither was above the other.
That illusion, however, was fleeting. After responding, Ronnel strode away without a backward glance.
Pariston remained where he was, his trademark smile lingering, though it took on a subtly intriguing edge.
"Ronnel..."
...
The Venue for the Hunter Exam
Beeskafmarro, a renowned tourist city, sat adjacent to the city housing the Hunter Association's headquarters. This year, it had the honor of hosting the initial stages of the Hunter Exam.
The method for finding the exam venue, however, was as bizarre as ever:
Candidates first had to locate Room 503 in an old apartment building in Beeskafmarro. After ringing the intercom and asking, "Is this Mr. Michelle's residence?" they'd be directed to Room 603. From there, another clue would lead them to a Diksakura store near the station. At checkout, they'd receive a special card bearing the store's name, which would finally guide them to the exam site.
While silently lamenting the convoluted process, Ronnel found himself standing in a vast, empty basement that served as the venue. It was 4:55 PM—just five minutes before the registration deadline.
Standing at the top of a staircase, Ronnel surveyed the only visible iron door in the basement. Beyond it, he could sense the packed throng of examinees—like sardines in a can—waiting for the exam to commence.
"Fourteen hundred and eighty-nine people~," Ronnel mused, counting the participants in his mind.
The testing methods for this year were still unclear, though he had formulated some ideas on the way here. All that remained were the details.
The Exam Begins
At exactly 5:00 PM, the timer in Ronnel's hand buzzed softly.
"It's time~," he muttered, stretching his limbs. The sharp crack of his joints echoed through the space.
With a creak, the iron door slowly opened.
The 288th Hunter Exam had officially begun.
Inside the basement, the examinees—a mix of familiar faces and newcomers—gathered warily. Many exchanged sharp glances, maintaining what they deemed a safe distance from one another. The air was thick with tension, compelling even the more confident participants to straighten their posture.
Yet amidst the palpable seriousness, a silver-haired boy moved nonchalantly through the crowd, hands clasped lazily behind his head. His carefree expression stood in stark contrast to the atmosphere.
Killua Zoldyck stifled a yawn, absently touching the number plate—1219—pinned to his chest. His sharp eyes scanned the room.
'More people this year, but the quality hasn't improved,' he muttered to himself.
He hoped for a swift, straightforward test. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could return to Gon and Bisky.
Killua's musings were interrupted by a familiar voice. Turning slightly, he spotted the Amori brothers approaching.
"What, you didn't pass the last exam either?" one of them teased.
Killua rolled his eyes as they continued, "We saw you in Heavens Arena, but it looks like you didn't get your license yet!"
They laughed obnoxiously before patting him on the shoulder and walking away. Killua glared after them, muttering, "Idiots."
Among the crowd, other recognizable figures caught his attention—Sommy, the monkey charmer; Ponzu, the bee-keeper; and even Geretta, the blowgun specialist.
But before Killua could observe further, the sound of the iron door opening again seized everyone's attention.
More than a thousand heads turned in unison, their gazes fixed on the now-open door.
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