That power! Incredible—this is beyond thrilling, I feel like I'm about to climax!
Hisoka groaned with excitement, his twisted aura surging wildly with no attempt at restraint. His malicious nen spread outward in waves, an oppressive storm that blanketed every single examinee under its suffocating weight.
Killua, who had undergone assassination training since childhood and carried Illumi's mental conditioning—when you encounter an enemy you cannot defeat, obey your instincts and flee—immediately felt his blood run cold. That sinister aura was like plunging naked into glacial waters, cutting him to the bone. His face drained of all color, and without hesitation, he turned and ran, ignoring Gon and the others calling after him.
Aoyama, standing within the core of Hisoka's malice, could sense it more clearly than anyone. Hisoka was completely unhinged.
If it came down to pure nen combat, Aoyama wasn't certain he could win against Hisoka right now. The only exception would be if he opened the Eight Gates—but with Godzilla and Kong summoned at his side as guardians, even if Hisoka rushed him head-on, he'd be destined for a brutal beating.
Yet, surprisingly, Hisoka didn't attack. Instead, as if he had reached a moment of ecstatic release, his body shuddered with pleasure… only to fall into an abrupt "afterglow," an anticlimactic calm.
Since Hisoka showed no intent to fight, Aoyama didn't bother provoking him either. To him, this Hunter world was just a temporary stop, a chance to enjoy the scenery. He had no ambitions to rule or dominate here.
After all, his true stage was still the shinobi world. Many of the tasks and conditions required to unlock the Monster Book could only be completed there.
Truthfully, if not for the Monster Book's requirements, Aoyama could have lived peacefully in Konoha, spending his days quietly.
But the thought of returning home—of holding a cold slice of watermelon, lounging under air conditioning, tapping on his keyboard to chat with fellow fans—those comforts of modern life were worth every hardship. Compared to that, living as a salted-fish ninja was simply unacceptable.
Going home… isn't that the best ending?
Of course, his identity as a transmigrator was a secret. He had never told anyone in the shinobi world, nor did he intend to.
It was like gaming—sure, you could grow attached, even feel restless if you didn't log in for a day, but committing to live inside the game forever? That would be absurd.
The first phase of the Hunter Exam was nothing more than a marathon. Survive to the finish line, and you pass.
Now, at the site of the Second Phase, two examiners announced the next test, throwing the already-worn-down candidates into another round of despair. Thus, the second trial officially began.
And there—among the examiners—stood the very person Aoyama most wanted to meet:
The Chairman of the Hunter Association, Isaac Netero.
Hisoka's eyes lit up too, more with glee than shock. From Netero's very presence radiated an aura that had pushed human potential to its absolute limit. Just a glance from him carried a lethal weight.
The second trial itself was dull. For anyone trained in nen, there was little difficulty. Even ordinary people with enough courage could retrieve spider eggs.
Once the test was done, the examinees boarded the airship. Netero, bored out of his mind, sought entertainment. Aoyama found him there, about to amuse himself with Gon and Killua in a game of ball.
The Chairman was surprised to see Aoyama. Through his aura, he could feel the young man's strength.
"Young man, do you want to play with this old relic, too? If you win, I'll hand you a Hunter License on the spot. Tempting, isn't it?"
Stretching his limbs, Aoyama felt the refined will contained within Netero's nen. It wasn't just power—it was martial intent tempered over a lifetime, honed into steel. The aura wrapped his body like still water, calm yet unyielding.
"To fight the Chairman of the Hunter Association—that's one of the reasons I came here."
"A fight, hmm?" Netero smiled faintly. "You don't look like you're here merely for amusement."
"If you won't fight, I'll just tear this airship apart. When it falls, plenty of examinees might die."
Netero's expression sharpened, his voice turning heavy. "Young man, are you serious?"
To throw hands with Netero… how could that not be exhilarating? It would certainly be more fun than punching Madara.
Aoyama nodded without hesitation. "Of course I'm serious."
Killua, sensing what was about to unfold, pulled Gon away. Just standing there, doing nothing, the raw battle intent radiating between these two was enough to scald the skin. With Illumi's needle still in his head, Killua dared not face an opponent he had no hope of defeating.
Netero thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Very well. It has been a long time since I last stretched these old bones. Without some proper exercise, they'll rust away."
He gestured downward. "To avoid disturbing the examinees, let's take this battle below. No objections, I trust?"
By "below," he didn't mean the lower deck of the airship, but the nameless island beneath it.
Aoyama leapt from the window first, arms spread wide in a fearless dive of faith.
Netero followed, and then—Hisoka. The other examiners skilled in nen did not join; instead, once Netero left the ship, they accelerated its speed to move it safely out of the battle's reach.
Boom!
The three landed one after another, cratering the ground, sending the beasts of the night fleeing in terror.
Netero stretched, eagerness glowing in his expression as he faced the two who had landed with him. "So, together? Ah, no matter. Come at me both if you like."
"If you can entertain me, besides the License, I'll even throw in something extra. Come on, let's have some fun."
Hisoka's cards flicked out, and his aura burst in violent waves, like crashing tides that bent trees and grass under the sheer pressure.
His men were overwhelming. Who knew what kind of twisted training had produced this monster?
Savoring the storm, Netero's smile widened as his gaze fell on Aoyama. "Your turn, young man. Let me see it."
Aoyama had originally planned to face Netero one-on-one. But given the situation, perhaps letting Hisoka go first wasn't a bad idea.
He stepped back, raising his hands in a helpless shrug. "Looks like someone's even more impatient than I am. Guess I'll wait for my turn."
"Ah, I see." Netero chuckled. "So it won't be two-on-one. You'll take me one at a time? That works too."
Hisoka narrowed his eyes, smiling dangerously. "I never imagined it would be this easy to earn the right to face you, Chairman. Last year, I even crippled an examiner and still wasn't granted a chance. If I'd known it was this simple, I would've just slaughtered examinees to force your hand."
Netero flexed, his nen surging as a massive Bodhisattva manifested behind him—his Guanyin, visible and imposing, towering over the battlefield.
Then come, and play with me to your heart's content!