The vast underground cavern wasn't just large; it was immense, the ceiling lost somewhere high above in the glare of industrial lighting. The air, cool and damp, vibrated with a nervous energy that was almost palpable. The rough-hewn rock walls, slick in places with condensation, amplified the sounds of shuffling feet, muttered conversations, and restless movements. Hundreds of individuals, each having overcome significant, likely dangerous hurdles just to locate this hidden entrance, now faced the agonizing, uncertain wait for the official start.
I found a spot against the cool, damp stone wall near the edge of the gathering, allowing me a wide vantage point while remaining relatively inconspicuous. My number, 143, a small, cold metal badge, felt prominent on my chest, a physical mark identifying me as one of the hopefuls. I settled in, observing the crowd.
The diversity was staggering, a visual and energetic cacophony. Hulking figures rippling with muscle stood near wiry individuals whose eyes darted constantly, assessing everyone and everything around them. There were people dressed in worn, functional explorer's gear, their clothes stained with the dirt of travel; others in surprisingly formal, though often slightly rumpled, suits; some in rugged, unfamiliar tribal wear adorned with bones or feathers; and a few who looked alarmingly like they'd just wandered in off the street, their clothes clean but their demeanor suggesting a dangerous detachment. Quiet scholars nervously adjusted wire-rimmed glasses, their hands trembling slightly, while brash martial artists in gis or training clothes stretched ostentatiously, punching the air with sharp, explosive movements. Whispers, nervous laughter, and arrogant boasts mingled with tense, heavy silence.
I could sense the faint, hazy leakage of uncontrolled life energy around nearly everyone here. It wasn't the focused, contained power of a trained Nen user, but a constant, low-level static, like background noise – their raw aura bleeding inefficiently into the air. It was like being in a room filled with leaky faucets. A few individuals felt completely blank to my senses, their presence oddly muted, perhaps indicating a natural talent for suppressing emission or a deliberate attempt at concealment. Their lack of visible aura made them stand out in a different way. Others radiated a palpable physical confidence and energy, their aura thick but formless, the raw vitality of strong bodies. But controlled, refined Nen, the kind I had spent years cultivating under Dad? It was conspicuously, almost entirely, absent among the applicant pool gathered here. This was a gathering of raw potential and ambition, not trained power. These were my fellow examinees – my competition, each and every one of them believing they had what it took. Most, I knew, were wrong. The vast majority would be weeded out long before the later, truly dangerous phases.
My eyes scanned the crowd methodically, a practiced habit from Dad's lessons in observation, looking for anyone who stood out, anyone whose presence felt different, perhaps hinting at a level of skill or awareness beyond the norm. And then, I saw him. Near the center of the cavern, holding court with a small group of nervous-looking first-timers, was a man who looked instantly, unsettlingly familiar. He seemed perhaps in his early thirties, with a friendly, slightly round face, an average build that hid nothing remarkable, and an air of unassuming affability that felt just a little too carefully constructed. It was, unmistakably, Tonpa.
He was considerably younger than the version I remembered seeing alongside Gon and Killua from my clear recollection of the series, fewer lines etched around his eyes, perhaps a bit less overt cynicism in his posture, but the core persona was already firmly in place. His presence felt... practiced. He carried himself with that odd mixture of confidence and deliberate, almost exaggerated harmlessness – a combination I now found darkly amusing, knowing his notorious reputation in the canon. His audience, wide-eyed and clearly overwhelmed by the sheer strangeness of their surroundings, seemed to hang on his every word, soaking up his supposed 'veteran' advice like sponges. I could almost hear the well-worn lies dripping from his amiable tone. Ah, rookie baiting phase one already? Classic Tonpa.
I forced myself to look away from Tonpa, sweeping my gaze across the cavern one more time. While I knew the main players of '99 wouldn't be here for this exam in '87, my clear memory of the series held knowledge of other Hunters and events across different eras. Could any genuine legends, perhaps in disguise or simply taking the Exam for their own inscrutable reasons, be hiding in this crowd? My eyes scanned for any hint of extraordinary presence beyond the general undisciplined aura leak, any echo of a remembered description that might fit someone truly powerful. But no. The faces remained stubbornly unfamiliar, a vast, undifferentiated collection of hopefuls, minor threats, and cannon fodder, unique to this 276th Exam. It was liberating, in a way – no pre-written path I was forced to follow, no destined encounters I had to navigate, just the raw challenge laid out before me, and my own capabilities to meet it. Okay, Kess, no leaning on plot armor here. You're on your own very capable two feet.
Satisfied, I leaned back fully against the wall, relaxing my posture while keeping my senses alert. Time stretched, marked only by the growing restlessness of the crowd. Some applicants paced restlessly, wearing paths in the dirt floor. Others attempted to appear calm, their nervous energy practically vibrating off them. A few even started minor squabbles over perceived slights, small bursts of uncontrolled emotion and energy rippling through the tension. I simply waited, conserving energy, breathing steadily, watching the unfolding drama with a detached curiosity. Patience was a skill Dad had drilled into me as much as any combat technique, essential for a Manipulator, essential for a Hunter. This is like watching ants discover a sugar cube. Fascinating in its predictability.
Eventually, a figure detached itself from the small group near the center and ambled over in my direction. It was Tonpa, his expression radiating practiced friendliness, a seasoned actor stepping onto a familiar stage. He stopped a few feet away, offering an easygoing smile and a slight inclination of his head.
"Hey there, kid!" he said, his voice amiable, just loud enough to be heard over the low murmur of the crowd without attracting undue attention. "Name's Tonpa. Been waiting long? Looks like your first time taking the exam, yeah? You seem a bit young for this rough and tumble crowd." He gestured vaguely around the cavern, implying a shared understanding of the 'hardship' they were all enduring.
I met his gaze calmly, noting the subtle calculation behind the friendly facade. "Kess Kobayashi," I replied politely, keeping my tone neutral, neither overly friendly nor defensive. "Yes, it is my first time."
"Kobayashi-kun, huh? Nice to meet ya!" Tonpa's smile widened slightly. "Yeah, the journey getting here... it can be a real kicker, right? Lotta ways to get tripped up before you even reach the main event. You look like you handled it okay though." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially, implying he had insider knowledge about the various 'kickers' along the way.
"It required some attention," I acknowledged noncommittally, a small smirk playing on my lips internally. You have no idea, Tonpa-san.
"Exactly! See, you get it!" Tonpa beamed, as if I had just proven myself exceptionally insightful. He chuckled, a low, seemingly harmless sound, then reached into a small pouch at his belt. "Look, it can be a long wait 'til things get started down here. Gotta keep your energy up, stay hydrated. Especially for a young guy like yourself." He held out a brightly colored can of juice, the kind that looked artificially flavored and overly sweet. "Here," he offered, pushing it towards me. "Have one on me. A little welcome gift to the exam! Think of it as... a boost."
I looked at the can, the familiar bright design instantly recognizable from my clear memory of the series. Then I looked back at Tonpa's smiling, expectant face. The infamous juice. Ah, there it is. Right on schedule. Even knowing exactly what it likely contained – a potent laxative designed to incapacitate rookies before the first phase even truly began – I felt a grudging, almost intellectual respect for his smooth approach, his utter lack of shame, and the sheer consistency of his method across the years. It was, in its own way, a form of dedication. "Thank you very much for the generous offer, Tonpa-san," I said, giving a slight, polite bow of refusal, maintaining eye contact but keeping my expression open and non-confrontational. "That's very kind of you. But I feel quite refreshed from the journey, and I ate just before arriving. I think what I need most right now is just to rest and save my energy for what's to come. It was a long trip, as you said."
Tonpa held the smile for a beat longer, his eyes momentarily narrowed almost imperceptibly, perhaps gauging my sincerity or trying to detect if I was onto him. Then he shrugged, his affability seemingly undented, shifting gears smoothly. "Ah, well, suit yourself, Kobayashi-kun! No problem at all!" He tucked the can back into his pouch. "More for me, I guess! Good luck out there, yeah? This Exam can be brutal. Hope to see you in the later phases!" He gave a quick, seemingly friendly wink and ambled off, presumably in search of a more receptive, less well-trained rookie to 'help'. I watched him go, filing away the interaction, another piece of the canon puzzle fitting into place, albeit twelve years ahead of schedule. Tonpa was exactly as advertised. Well, that was easy. Almost disappointing.
More time passed. The tension in the cavern grew thicker, the air feeling heavy with unspoken anticipation as the presumed cutoff time approached and passed. The low murmur of conversation died down, replaced by the sounds of restless shuffling and shallow breathing. Everyone waited, eyes fixed on the dimly lit platform at the far end of the cavern, where the air felt different, somehow denser, more focused.
Then, without warning—
BLAAAAARE!
A deafening, echoing horn blast ripped through the vast underground space, cutting off all conversation, all movement. Every head snapped towards the previously unnoticed platform near one of the far walls, where a single figure now stood bathed in a sudden, bright light.
He was a man with a solid, muscular build, emanating an aura of sheer, practical capability. He was dressed in simple, functional attire – dark trousers and a light-colored jacket – his short, solid black hair neatly styled. He carried himself with an air of sharp professionalism, competence, and an underlying impatience. Even from this distance, his presence felt focused, controlled, a stark contrast to the wild aura leakage of the applicants. I recognized him instantly; he was Tsezguerra, a Hunter whose face I'd seen clearly in my memories from the Greed Island arc in the series.
His voice boomed across the cavern, amplified but retaining a clear, commanding edge that cut through the lingering echoes of the horn. "Alright, candidates! Listen up!" He scanned the silent crowd, his gaze sharp and assessing. "The cutoff time has passed. All 351 of you present are accepted as applicants for the 276th Hunter Exam!"
A collective, shaky exhale went through the crowd. 351. More than I expected, fewer than in Gon's year, but a substantial number nonetheless.
Tsezguerra paused, letting his gaze sweep across the now silent, expectant crowd. His expression was stern, no-nonsense, radiating an aura of absolute authority. "I am Tsezguerra," he announced, the name landing with quiet weight for those who recognized it, "your proctor for the First Phase."
He didn't offer greetings or congratulations. He simply stated, his voice dropping slightly but losing none of its power, "The Exam starts... now!"
He didn't elaborate further on rules or objectives. He simply gestured towards a section of the cavern wall directly behind him, which slid open with a low, grinding rumble of stone on stone, revealing a dark, wide tunnel leading into the unknown, into the heart of the mountain. "Your first task is simple," Tsezguerra said, his eyes holding a predatory glint that promised hardship. "Follow me." With that, he turned sharply and, without a backward glance, broke into a steady, ground-eating jog, disappearing into the dark tunnel entrance.
Seriously? "Follow me"? A wave of disbelief, quickly followed by a flash of amused irritation, went through me. Okay, part of me was hoping this wouldn't just be a beat-for-beat rehash of the 287th Exam's first phase. Couldn't they get a little more creative? "Find the exit?" "Navigate the labyrinth?" Nope, just... jogging. I shook my head slightly, a tiny, private gesture. Is the Exam Committee just lazy, or is this some kind of meta commentary on the cyclical nature of challenges? Probably just lazy. At least it's easy. And maybe funny.
For a single, stunned heartbeat, the vast cavern was silent. Then, chaos erupted. The collective tension of the wait shattered, replaced by a primal surge of fear and urgency. 351 applicants surged forward as one, a wave of bodies scrambling, pushing, tripping over each other in their desperate haste to follow the proctor into the darkness.
I pushed off the wall, the waiting game abruptly over. My amusement at Tonpa and the sheer absurdity of the situation faded instantly, replaced by sharp focus. The 276th Hunter Exam had begun. My well-trained body moved effortlessly with the initial surge, maintaining balance amidst the uncoordinated rush, already outpacing most of the panicking crowd. I was here. I was number 143. I was ready.