A man in a gray coat stepped through the school gate.
Jon, already halfway across the courtyard leaving school, stopped mid-step. The man's appearance was too strange to ignore—black gloves, a gray overcoat, a bowler hat pulled low, and sunglasses over a ski mask. He looked like a mob boss from a noir film, frozen in time and out of place in broad daylight.
Jon tensed. His instincts screamed danger.
With a cautious flick of his fingers, Jon summoned [Atum], watching the man closely. No reaction. He doesn't see it? That meant he wasn't a Nen user.
Jon exhaled in relief. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Psychological side effects from my last kill, maybe?
The man strolled past him without a glance. Jon turned his attention to a bird fluttering in a nearby tree—until he heard the click.
The man's voice was cold and cracked like a dry whisper. "Die, sinful bloodline."
Jon's head snapped around—just in time to see a grenade leave the man's hand.
"Shit—!"[Stone Free] manifested instantly, its leg swinging out. The grenade deflected mid-air. It exploded a heartbeat later—BOOM—blasting a hole in the wall of a classroom. Shards of glass and metal ripped through the air. Screams followed. Blood sprayed across desks.
Kids collapsed—some moving, some terrifyingly still.
Capon's POV
My name is Capon. I'm a teacher. I have a car I'm still paying off and a one-bedroom in the suburbs. No girlfriend. No big ambitions. Just my students.
And now, a terrorist is attacking the school.
I stood frozen. I'd been teaching for over a decade. Never in my life—never—had I faced something like this.
The man in gray took out another grenade.
I didn't think. Jon might be a pain in my ass, but he's still my student.
I ran towards him.
Maybe I'm pathetic. Maybe I'm old. But at least today, I'm not a coward.
Jon's POV
The explosion still echoed in my skull. My classmates were bleeding out on the ground. Their cries became muffled in my ears, drowned by a dull ringing and a rising heat in my chest.
Then I saw Capon.
The old man rushed toward me, arms spread.
"Dumbass…" I muttered, stunned. He's going to die.
"Bastard! You'll pay for this!" I clenched my fist.
"Extendable String Fist!"[Stone Free] launched its arm like a whip. The fist struck the grenade midair—KRA-KOOM—another explosion rocked the air, closer this time.
I could've dodged it. I could've avoided injury.
But Capon would've died.
My hand was torn open by shrapnel. Blood splattered across the ground.
The man drew a pistol.
He fired.
[Stone Free] formed fully and shot forward.
"OORA! OORA! OORA! OORA~!"
Each punch deflected a bullet. Sparks flew with every impact.
"You monster!" the man snarled.
I stepped forward, eyes blazing. "You came for me. So don't cry when I fight back."
"OORA OORA OORA OORA OORA OORA OORA OORA!"
My Stand pummeled him mercilessly. Blood sprayed. His ribs cracked.
And I didn't stop.
Rafael Bacca's Final Thoughts
My name is Rafael Bacca. I once owned a piece of a small business. I had a wife. A 8 year old son. A peaceful life.
Then the gangs came. They offered to buy me out—cheap. I refused.
The next morning, I found my parents, my wife, and my son—butchered and strung up outside my home.
I died that day. What was left was only revenge.
I sold everything. Found the name of the boss's son. Bought weapons on the black market. Memorized his school schedule.
And now here I am, bleeding and broken. Grenades, bullets… none of it worked.
That boy… he wasn't a regular human.
"Sara… I'm sorry."
I clutched the photo of my family hidden under my shirt. As [Stone Free]'s fist cracked my skull wide open, my world went dark.
----------------
Robson presented a warrant and quietly dismissed the surrounding officers, requesting a private conversation with Jon.
Inside a dimly lit office of the police station, the tension was thick. Robson sat across the table from Jon, the faint smell of cigarette smoke clinging to his coat.
"We meet again," Robson said, eyes fixed on Jon.
Jon didn't answer immediately. His fingers drummed quietly on the metal table.
Robson broke the silence. "The terrorist attack left twelve dead. Fifteen more injured. The press doesn't know, and neither does the public—but we've confirmed the truth. The man was after you."
Jon's expression darkened.I didn't kill those kids. But they died... because of me.He hadn't known them well, just classmates he barely spoke to—but that didn't matter now. Their blood was on the ground. And indirectly, on his hands.
"Was he Jackman's accomplice?" Jon asked, his voice low.
Robson shook his head. "No. Jackman worked alone. This time... it was just a civilian. A man with no Nen, no military background. But he had a grudge. Your father's past—his work as a gangster—left a long trail of enemies. When your identity was exposed after the Jackman incident, people started digging. And someone finally found you."
He lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly. "This man—Rafael—wasn't a professional. He was a broken father. You were just a name tied to the family that ruined his life."
Jon sat in silence, the weight of reality settling in.
An ordinary man… with a grenade. And he almost killed me.
After fighting Jackman, after clashing with Robson himself, Jon had grown arrogant. He saw non-Nen users as beneath him. But Rafael shattered that illusion.
"My strength blinded me," Jon muttered. "I thought I was untouchable."
Robson nodded. "Power has a way of warping perspective. But reality always comes crashing back."
He leaned forward, his tone growing serious. "Jon… they're not done. Others may come. We'll do what we can to protect your caretakers, but our resources are stretched thin. You staying here puts them at risk. So I need to ask—what's your plan?"
Jon looked down for a moment, then let out a slow breath. "I understand. I was planning to take the Hunter Exam anyway… Guess this just forces my hand."
A wry smile crept onto his lips. "Might as well stop playing house and actually live in the world of Hunters. Learn more. Grow stronger. Maybe even find people worth fighting."
It was half optimism, half self-consolation—but it was something to hold on to.
He paused, then looked Robson in the eye. "Why are you helping me?"
Robson took a long drag from his cigarette before answering.
"Maybe it's a love for talent," he said with a dry chuckle, glancing away with a crooked smile.
Thank goodness he's not after my beauty, Jon breathed a sigh of relief. Admiring masculinity doesn't mean wanting to be a Fag~
That day, Jon was released on bail. He left town with only some cash, a forged ID, and the clothes on his back.
-----Port
These ships were typically operated by staff members from the Hunter Association, designed to subtly assess the qualities of examinees before the exam even began.
But Jon had arrived a little late—regular tickets were long sold out. He was forced to buy one from a scalper at an outrageously high price.
"Scalper tickets are robbery," Jon muttered, glancing down at the stub. "Good thing I'm smart as hell."
He quietly activated [Stone Free], and while the scalper celebrated his haul, Jon had already unraveled a thread of his own body, snuck it into the man's pocket, and reclaimed not only his own money—but a little extra for his troubles.
Profit: Made.
Dignity: Preserved.
Once onboard and past the ticket check, Jon immediately summoned [Atum] to discreetly interrogate the ship's crew. He approached the captain.
"Are you staff from the Association? Headed to the venue?"
The captain scoffed. "What are you going on about? We just ferry examinees each year."
"NO,"[Atum] answered flatly.
Jon narrowed his eyes.
That guy deserves an Oscar. I nearly believed him if it weren't for Atum. What a terrifying poker face.
He tried again, just to be sure. "This is the ship to the Hunter Exam, right?"
The captain's face twisted in irritation. "Kid, are you stupid? Of course it is. Don't waste my time."
"NO."
Atum's reply echoed like a death sentence.
This ain't preschool orientation, man. I want off this nightmare ferry. Black-hearted liars!
Jon clenched his teeth. My poor feelings. My poor wallet. No—wait, I didn't actually pay anything. And I made money… so technically, I'm thriving?
With a dramatic sigh, Jon gracefully dove off the ship using Ripple, hitting the sea with a clean splash and swimming back to shore.
Now stranded, he wandered the bustling port market, trying to figure out his next move. The exam was fast approaching. The stalls were booming—selling everything from swords to pistols to suspiciously high volumes of laxatives.
Just then, a rotund, blue-jacketed man stood at the entrance of a pharmacy. He wasn't a robot with a love for dorayaki, though the resemblance was uncanny. He had messy brown hair, a ring of stubble around his mouth, and a kindly, gullible expression.
It was Tonpa, the infamous gatekeeper of newbie misery in the Hunter Exam.
Jon's eyes lit up. What a kind-looking man. A veteran of the exam. Surely, he must be trustworthy. I'm so touched I could cry.
Jon's instincts told him to follow him.
Tonpa suddenly paused, turning around with narrowed eyes. "...Who's there?"
Jon quickly ducked behind a wooden crate, trying to stay hidden.
"Come on out, friend!" Tonpa called, pressing his hands together as if praying to the gods of deception. "Let's not play hide-and-seek."
Damn it, I'm not a total rookie—how did he catch me so fast?! Jon cursed in his heart.
Tonpa casually walked toward the crate. Jon stepped out, thoroughly discouraged. First time trying to be stealthy and I get caught in five seconds. So much for anime logic…
"Other characters suppress their aura," Jon thought bitterly, "but how the hell do you do that in real life? Mangakas, come out and fight me!"
Tonpa relaxed slightly upon seeing a young boy—but only slightly. A real pro never drops his guard. He smiled warmly.
"What's your name, little friend?"
This guy's aura just did a full 180, Jon observed. Now that's acting. Total professional.
"Joseph Joestar," Jon said with a straight face. "You can call me JoJo. I'm here for the Hunter Exam, but I got a little lost."
He didn't hesitate to use a Alias—or to pretend to be a wide-eyed, clueless newbie.
Tonpa lit up. "What a coincidence! I'm Tonpa. Been taking the Hunter Exam since I was ten. This'll be my thirtieth run. Stick with me and you'll be just fine!"
"Oh wow, thank you, senpai!" Jon replied cheerfully.
Believe you? My ass. If I trust you, they'll be picking my bones out of a bear's stomach next spring.
Still, he happily boarded Tonpa's ship. The preliminary round wouldn't be an issue now—at least not in terms of getting there.
The two chatted idly. Tonpa felt smug. Another rookie to mess with. Too easy. This brat is using me? Please—I invented that game.
Jon smiled politely. This fossil thinks he's tricking me. That's cute. I'm letting you think you're in control.
Both were silent for a moment, grinning to themselves.
"I've got you right where I want you, trash." ×2
A/N: How is the story so far? Should it be continued?