Chapter 36 – The Generous Tonpa (Part 1)
Osren checked his watch. Only a little over two hours had passed.
In the original timeline, this phase of the exam had gone on for six or seven hours—so it was about time to move to Plan B.
Being a former "bug analyst" in his past life had its perks. Osren had planned for nearly every possibility. He knew his stamina wasn't infinite, and there was no need to compete for first place.
Not that he was being humble—frankly, just surviving this test would already be an accomplishment.
Leorio's breathing was getting heavier, the rhythm uneven.
Looks like it was time to rely on Tonpa's assistance.
Gon slowed his pace to match his friend's stride.
Within moments, several participants surged ahead of them, rushing past in a blur.
"The course must be long," Tonpa chimed in helpfully from the side. "It's better to conserve your energy."
Ah, speak of the devil.
Osren hadn't even noticed where Tonpa had been hiding—there were simply too many people. But now, right on cue, the self-proclaimed veteran appeared again, reestablishing his presence.
He was clearly targeting them.
After all, the stronger the group, the more satisfying it was for the "Rookie Crusher" to watch them fall.
A matter of professional pride, perhaps.
"Well, well," Osren thought with a smirk. "A pillow delivered right when I needed one. How thoughtful."
"Mr. Tonpa," Osren said aloud, smiling politely. "You've taken this exam so many times—you must know a lot of the other candidates, right? Could you tell us a bit about them?"
If Tonpa had bad intentions, Osren wasn't about to waste that resource. The smart move was to squeeze him dry for every bit of intel before handling him later.
Waste, after all, was a sin.
"Mr. Tonpa probably knows everyone," Gon said brightly, supporting Osren's ploy without realizing it.
"You could say that," Tonpa replied, struggling to suppress the smug grin creeping across his face. Despite his years of failure, there was still that odd flicker of pride—maybe the kind only a permanent repeat examinee could have.
"Could you tell us about them?" Gon pressed eagerly. "They must all be really strong, right?"
Tonpa puffed up a little. Finally, someone was acknowledging his 'expertise.'
"All right, listen closely," he began, adopting the tone of a seasoned tour guide. "First up—Number 103, Bourbon the Snake Charmer. He's a man of deep obsession."
As he spoke, a tall man in a gray-green headscarf and a dark purple scarf jogged past them, moving with steady focus. His number tag—103—flashed on his chest.
"Bourbon, huh…" Osren muttered, his scalp tingling involuntarily at the memory.
He remembered too clearly the snakes in that cramped room on Zevil Island… and Leorio's miserable screams echoing through the halls.
"Maybe I should bring frog meat next time," he mused dryly. "Wait—do frogs even exist in this world? …Rats, maybe?"
"Sorry in advance, Leorio," he added mentally, glancing sympathetically at his still-unaware friend.
"Next is Number 76, Nari—the martial artist. His skills are extraordinary. Number 255, Todo, strong and sharp-minded. And those three over there—Numbers 197, 198, and 199—are the Amori brothers. Excellent teamwork, very high potential."
Tonpa's rundown was surprisingly thorough. For all his scheming, he did know the regulars of the Hunter Exam inside out.
Still, Osren had a few opinions of his own.
Number 255, Todo—he remembered him well. A huge man with a single braided ponytail. Physically imposing, sure, but… not exactly bright.
After all, this was the same guy who had dared to challenge Menchi, claiming a Gourmet Hunter wasn't qualified to test them—and promptly got flattened for his trouble.
"Muscle-brained," Osren thought. "And proud of it."
"And over there," Tonpa continued, pointing, "Number 384, Geretta the Beast Hunter. He hunts using only blow darts and a staff—can capture just about anything with those."
Osren followed his gaze, nodding thoughtfully. "So that's Geretta… Hm. Noted."
Tonpa smiled wider, pleased to have such attentive listeners.
He had no idea he'd just volunteered to be the first piece on Osren's chessboard.
Geretta must have overheard Tonpa's little introduction, because he turned his head mid-run and flashed them a grin.
Even in the dim tunnel light, that smile stood out—his entire body was shrouded in black, with oversized sunglasses covering half his face. In the darkness, he was nearly invisible… until he smiled, revealing a perfect row of bright white teeth.
That grin practically glowed.
"These folks are all regulars," Tonpa said, glancing around and realizing he'd run out of people to point at. He decided to stop before he started sounding too friendly. Being helpful wasn't exactly good for his brand.
Unfortunately for Tonpa, having Osren nearby meant fate had already decided otherwise—whether he liked it or not, he was destined to walk further down the road of "accidental good guy."
"So everyone here's really amazing…" Gon said in awe.
Growing up on Whale Island, he'd never been surrounded by so many skilled people before. Seeing such a variety of abilities and personalities made his blood stir with excitement.
"As long as we pass, that's all that matters," Leorio said firmly, his single-minded determination never wavering.
"What do you think, Osren?" Gon asked.
Osren smiled faintly. "Don't worry. As long as we keep pushing forward, we'll make it."
No one knew Gon's potential better than he did. That energy hidden behind those bright eyes—it was like a compressed spring waiting to explode.
Just then—
Whirr… scrape…
The sound of wheels rolling over stone echoed through the tunnel. A moment later, Killua glided past on his skateboard, silver hair catching the faint light. Whether it was coincidence or timing, he passed right in front of them, smooth and effortless.
Osren couldn't help but think, Finally. Right on cue.
Even though their meeting came a little later than in the "original story," destiny clearly had its own schedule. Gon and Killua—two fated friends—had finally crossed paths.
"That's so cool!" Gon exclaimed, watching in pure admiration as Killua slid past, completely balanced.
"Hey! That's cheating, you little punk!" Leorio shouted, half out of breath, half out of envy.
He'd been running on fumes for the past hour, so seeing someone just rolling along without breaking a sweat was too much to bear.
Killua turned his head, one eyebrow raised. "How's that cheating?"
"This is supposed to be a test of endurance!" Leorio argued.
"Nope," Gon countered innocently. "The examiner only said we had to keep up with him. Right, Osren?"
Gon was nothing if not honest—always calling things as he saw them. But even then, he still looked to Osren for confirmation, like a younger brother waiting for approval.
Osren chuckled. "He's right. It doesn't matter how you do it—as long as you reach the goal."
It wasn't just words. He genuinely believed it.
Doesn't matter if it's a black cat or a white cat—as long as it catches mice, it's a good cat.
Reaching the destination was what counted. The method? Flexible.
Sure, he could've prepared his own skateboard or rollerblades in advance, but that would've been too suspicious. Even if Osren had made a few flashy moves so far, predicting the future would've crossed the line from "clever" to "unnatural."
"Gon, Osren, whose side are you even on?!" Leorio groaned, his voice echoing through the tunnel. Being the only one arguing in a group of optimists was not fun.
"Companions?" Killua repeated softly, his dark green eyes flickering with confusion.
That word—companion—wasn't something he'd grown up with. In the world he came from, there were only orders, missions, and targets. No friendship. No trust.
It was the first time anyone had called him that.
And somehow… the sound of it didn't feel bad at all.