Chapter 21: While Others Take the Exam, I Scavenge
Amidst this motley crew of examinees, the preliminary test had begun.
In the long, dark underground tunnel, over four hundred people ran behind Satotz.
Satotz's gait was bizarre, his movements stiff and unnatural, completely unlike anything a normal human could produce.
Yet his speed was astonishingly fast.
At first, the group could keep up just by walking, but soon they had to run—even then, they could barely match his pace.
At the very back of the group...
"Is this an endurance test right from the start? Perfect. No matter where you go, I'll follow." Leorio flashed a confident grin, voicing his bold declaration.
Mord glanced at him. Simple-minded people really have it easy.
This test was far from as straightforward as Leorio imagined.
On the surface, it seemed like all they had to do was keep running. But the most crucial point was that no one knew where the finish line was.
This imposed a tremendous psychological burden—it wasn't just testing endurance, but also willpower.
In other words, the first test was a simultaneous trial of both body and mind.
This endless, seemingly boundless running could easily breed negative emotions, especially when physical exhaustion set in.
Impatience, panic, doubt, denial.
And finally—giving up.
Swallowed whole by the endless dark tunnel.
Thanks to Madou's special training during that time, this level of challenge posed no threat to Mord, even without using Nen.
...
Two hours into the exam, people finally began dropping out.
Mord silently estimated that the distance they had run since the start was already over 30 kilometers.
In reality, only the most elite marathon runners could achieve such a feat.
Those who were eliminated might have had unique talents in certain areas, but physical limitations made their elimination inevitable.
Mord lingered at the back of the group, watching as one examinee after another collapsed from exhaustion.
"That's a nice knife. I could use a decent weapon—might as well take it for now."
Mord jogged over to one examinee, picked up the knife that had fallen beside them, and continued running.
"What's in this case, I wonder?"
"I'll take that too."
He moved to another examinee and casually picked up their dropped bag.
"That thing looks interesting too—never seen anything like it in Meteor City."
"Might as well grab it."
...
"Ohohohoho—"
Somewhere in the middle of the group, a chubby boy in a suit, holding a laptop, let out a cheerful laugh as he trotted along with light steps.
"Based on past data, this exam format is a 40-kilometer endurance race."
"According to my calculations, we should be nearing the finish line soon."
The boy tapped away at his keyboard, a confident smile on his face.
40 kilometers...
The running continued.
The boy's pupils contracted slightly—a seed of doubt took root in his heart.
50 kilometers.
His pace began to slow. Gradually, he fell behind the leading group.
60 kilometers.
He was now dragging at the very back.
"My calculations couldn't be wrong... so why...?"
"Am I really going to be eliminated like this? Me, of all people?"
"No way. Impossible. I refuse."
"Impossible! Impossible! Impossible!"
"I can't be a failure like this!"
The chubby boy had completely fallen behind the group, unable to even maintain a running pace. He could only rely on his last ounce of willpower, moving forward on sheer instinct.
At this moment, he was utterly disheveled.
The stark contrast between his current state and his triumphant demeanor just hours earlier was like heaven and earth. One strap of his tank top had slipped off, his hair was drenched in sweat, and his increasingly lifeless eyes were obscured by the wet strands clinging to his face.
Even the high-tech computer he had treasured like a priceless treasure slipped from his grasp.
Just as the device was about to crash onto the ground and shatter, a hand suddenly shot out and caught it steadily.
"That was close, too close."
Mord, who had multiple backpacks slung over his shoulders and various weapons protruding from the bags, extended his right hand to secure the computer.
"For a little chubby guy, you've done remarkably well."
As Mord spoke these words to the boy beside him, he simultaneously opened the laptop and began operating it.
Not far from them, three examinees were keeping a close watch on Mord—or more accurately, on the chubby boy.
The Amori Brothers.
Hired by the Rookie Crusher Tonpa, they had originally planned to deliver the final blow to the boy's already crumbling mental defenses, completely destroying his confidence in becoming a Hunter.
But now, upon seeing Mord, they hesitated.
"Big bro, what do we do now? There's someone with that chubby kid."
"Let's go!"
"But what about Tonpa?"
"Our real purpose here is to pass the Hunter Exam. If we can earn Tonpa's money along the way, great. But if it interferes with our main goal, we'll have to give it up."
The eldest Amori brother glanced at Mord, who was loaded down with all sorts of odd equipment, and thought to himself it would be best not to provoke such an eccentric.
No one knew how many kilometers they had to run.
This was an endurance race with no visible finish line.
The monotonous track stretching endlessly ahead had already eliminated one examinee after another.
At the 80-kilometer mark, the chubby boy fell behind.
Wanting no entanglement with Mord, the Amori Brothers immediately picked up speed and caught up with the leading group.
"How did it go?" Tonpa asked with a smile.
The eldest Amori brother shook his head and pulled out a wad of bills from his pocket, handing it back.
Tonpa froze, not reaching to take it.
"That can't be. That chubby kid looked completely done for earlier."
"It wasn't because of him."
The eldest brother jerked his thumb backward but said nothing more, continuing to run ahead.
Tonpa soon discovered the reason for the Amori Brothers' failure.
Fully armed, Mord came ambling up from behind, an open laptop in his hands from which sounds emerged—as if he was watching some video.
Tonpa's face darkened immediately.
He turned away quickly.
It was worth noting that a large part of why Tonpa bore such a grudge against the chubby boy was actually because of Mord.
The chubby boy had been the second person after Mord to openly point out Tonpa's identity as the Rookie Crusher. But unlike the boy, Mord's intimidating aura made it clear he wasn't someone to be trifled with.
So, the only option was to vent his frustration on the boy.
Who would have thought that in the end, Mord would be the one to ruin everything.
Mord used his computer to watch movies, variety shows, and anime from this world, hoping to understand it better through these mediums.
To his surprise, this world seemed oddly like a cultural wasteland.
The quality of these programs was really not up to par.
But then again, with thrilling events like the Heaven's Arena around, it was no wonder the legitimate cultural industry struggled to flourish.