Buhara stood at the edge of the swamp, arms folded over his massive stomach, grinning at the exhausted crowd as though he were welcoming them to a feast rather than another trial.
"For the second phase of the Hunter Exam," he announced warmly, "you will hunt the Great Stamp and prepare it for me. I want something delicious."
"Cooking?"
A collective groan followed. Out across the rocky shallows, enormous seal-like beasts lounged under the sun. Each Great Stamp had a thick hide, a raised horn curving from its brow, and heavy foreflippers that looked capable of crushing bone. They appeared sluggish at first glance, but the illusion shattered when the first group of examinees rushed in. One careless lunge earned a sweeping counter that sent two men tumbling into the surf.
Gon crouched low behind a rock, eyes bright rather than intimidated. "They're fast," he murmured, watching carefully as another Great Stamp reared its head to strike.
Killua smirked. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Gon grinned back. "A little."
As more applicants charged and failed, Gon kept observing. Whenever a Great Stamp prepared to attack, it lifted its head slightly, exposing the base of its raised horn. For a brief instant, the thick hide thinned near the joint where the horn connected to the skull. One examinee's blade had glanced off the side, but when another's spear accidentally scraped the back of the horn during a scuffle, the beast recoiled sharply, almost panicked.
Gon's eyes widened. "That's it."
Without overthinking, he sprang into motion. Using his fishing rod, he snapped the line against a rock to draw one creature's attention. As it lunged, he darted to the side, feigning retreat. The Great Stamp lifted its head to gore him, exposing the back of its horn. Gon pivoted mid-step and drove his reinforced rod into the base with all his weight behind it.
The reaction was immediate. The beast convulsed, losing balance long enough for Kurapika and Leorio to follow up. Killua slipped behind it with precise strikes. Working together, they brought it down far more cleanly than most of the others had managed.
"Amazing, Gon." Leorio was energized looking at Gon's handywork.
"That was reckless," Kurapika said, catching his breath.
Gon laughed, a little sheepish but pleased. "I just wanted to try it."
Word spread quickly. Applicants who had been struggling began targeting the same weak point. The hunts grew more efficient. By the time the sun began to dip, seventy examinees had managed to present prepared Great Stamp dishes to Buhara.
Unlike his partner, Buhara was easy to please. He devoured roasted cuts, grilled slabs, even poorly seasoned attempts, praising each with booming enthusiasm. "Pass! Pass! Ooh, this one's good too! Pass!"
When he finally wiped his mouth and declared that seventy applicants had passed his phase, a ripple of relief moved through the group.
Menchi stepped forward, arms crossed. "Now for my test."
The mood shifted immediately.
"I require sushi," she stated flatly.
Blank stares met her.
"Sushi?" Leorio echoed.
Several applicants whispered among themselves. The term was unfamiliar to most. Even Gon tilted his head, curious rather than worried.
From somewhere in the crowd, Hanzo scratched the back of his head. "You mean that vinegared rice thing with raw fish on top?" he muttered, not particularly concerned with being heard.
Menchi's eyes snapped toward him. "You know it?"
Hanzo shrugged. "It's from my homeland."
That single comment was enough. The word "rice" spread through the applicants like wildfire. Many immediately began catching fish from the shoreline, slapping thick slices onto clumps of poorly shaped rice. Some over-handled the grains until they became paste. Others cut the fish unevenly, leaving bones embedded within.
Gon tried his hand at it with genuine curiosity. He shaped the rice carefully, remembering how delicate Buhara had been with texture, but he lacked experience. His cuts of fish were clean thanks to his steady hands, yet something about the balance felt off. He tasted a small piece himself and frowned slightly, though he still smiled. "It's kind of interesting," he admitted.
Killua made a face after sampling his own. "Interesting isn't going to save you."
Kitse worked a short distance away, quieter than the others. He listened carefully when Hanzo described the vinegared rice, noting the emphasis on proportion. Rather than rushing, he washed the rice thoroughly before cooking it, letting it steam properly before seasoning. He cooled it gradually, fanning it to preserve the grain's integrity instead of crushing it.
For the fish, he selected a smaller coastal catch rather than the tougher Great Stamp meat. The blade in his hand moved steadily, producing slices that were thin but not translucent, each cut made in a single draw to avoid tearing the flesh. He shaped the rice with restrained pressure, allowing air to remain between the grains so it would not feel dense.
When the plates were presented, Menchi's disappointment was immediate. One after another, she rejected them. "Rice too tight. Fish too thick. Balance nonexistent. Fail."
Even Gon's group did not escape her criticism. She tasted Gon's piece, paused briefly, then set it down. "Your instinct is good," she said, "but technique matters. Fail."
The final plate was Kitse's.
Menchi lifted one piece and studied it closely. The rice mound was even, neither oversized nor compacted. The fish lay naturally over it, edges aligned without being forced. She pressed lightly with her chopsticks, testing structure, then took a bite.
The seasoning was subtle. The vinegar sharpened the rice without overwhelming it, and the fish retained its clean, ocean scent. The proportions were balanced enough that neither element dominated the other. It wasn't anything special, but it was enough for a test. At least he had respected the ingredients and put some thought behind it.
She swallowed and nodded once. "Pass."
Silence followed.
The applicants stiffened as Menchi turned back to face them. "All others fail."
Outrage erupted instantly.
"That's insane!" Leorio protested. "Seventy passed the first phase!"
Menchi's expression did not soften. "Cooking requires discipline. If you lack it, you lack qualification."
Before the argument could escalate further, a gentle voice drifted down from above. "My, my. It seems things have become lively."
Chairman Netero descended from an airship, hands clasped behind his back, his smile as mild as ever. He landed lightly between the examiners and the furious crowd.
"Menchi," he said pleasantly, "while your standards are admirable, perhaps eliminating everyone but one applicant is a touch excessive."
She frowned. "Chairman, they failed."
"Then let us give them a chance to redeem themselves," Netero replied. "A new task. One that reflects both your standards and the spirit of the exam."
Gon's disappointment lasted only a moment before curiosity returned to his eyes.
"So we get to try again?" he asked, already leaning forward with renewed energy.
Netero chuckled. "Of course."
Kitse stepped back into the crowd without drawing attention. He had passed Menchi's phase, but the exam was far from over.
"As for you, it would be unfair to give everyone a second chance when you passed fairly. Hmm. How about you come with me to the airship. Maybe we can talk a bit."
Netero's voice still kept that childlike playfulness and Kitse had no reason to hesitate.