The airship hovered over the summit of Trick Tower like a predatory bird. Below, the pillar of stone and steel rose from the desert floor, its flat top a sun-bleached stage for the remaining examinees.
Leorio stood at the edge of the roof, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana. He looked down at the badge pinned to his charcoal coat. Number 403. In this timeline, the shifting of the tides had moved his number, but the weight of it remained the same. Beside him stood Gon, Killua, and Kurapika. The quartet was a singular entity now, bound by the shared adrenaline of the wetlands and the airship.
"Seventy-two hours," Kurapika said, checking his watch. "That is the time limit to reach the bottom. But there are no visible entrances."
"It's a trapdoor system," Leorio said, his voice grounded. He had already expanded his En to a subtle five-meter radius. He could feel the slight hollows beneath certain stones. "The tower is designed to split us up. But if we're lucky, or if we look for the clusters..."
"Found one!" Gon shouted, already disappearing into the floor.
"And another!" Killua followed.
Leorio and Kurapika shared a look—the weary glance of two older brothers—and stepped onto their own respective tiles.
The four of them landed in a small, square room lit by flickering fluorescent tubes. In the center was a pedestal with five watches.
"Only four of us?" Killua asked, looking around.
"The door won't open without five," Leorio noted, pointing to the inscription on the wall. "Majority rule. It looks like we're waiting for a fifth wheel."
Suddenly, the ceiling opened, and a familiar, sweating figure tumbled down. Tonpa hit the floor with a grunt, his blue sweater stained with dirt.
"You again," Leorio muttered, his eyes narrowing.
"Hey! I didn't choose to be here with you!" Tonpa barked, though he looked visibly shaken. The memory of Leorio exposing his "Rookie Crusher" juice in the tunnel was clearly still fresh.
They strapped on the watches. The First Phase of Trick Tower was a test of consensus, a series of 'Yes' or 'No' questions that required them to press buttons. Tonpa, true to his nature, tried to sabotage every vote, but with four unified voices, his petty rebellions were nothing more than a nuisance.
They descended through a series of corridors until they reached a wide, circular arena suspended over an abyss. Five figures stood on the opposite side, clad in the blue uniforms of prisoners.
"This is the Majority Rule Arena," a voice boomed from the speakers. It was Lippo, the prison warden and Third Phase examiner. "To pass, you must win three out of five matches. The style of the match is determined by the contestants."
The first two matches played out in a blur of canon events. Tonpa surrendered instantly against Bendot to waste time. Gon won his match through sheer lung capacity and creative thinking, blowing out a candle. Kurapika faced Majtani—the fake Phantom Troupe member—and dismantled him with a single, scarlet-eyed punch that left the man unconscious and the group in a deadlock.
"Two matches left," Kurapika said, his breathing finally leveling out. "But Majtani is still unconscious. They're trying to waste our time by claiming he's still in the fight."
"He's not unconscious," Leorio said, stepping forward. He had been watching the prisoner's carotid artery from across the arena. "He's feigning. His pulse is too rhythmic for deep trauma."
Leorio walked onto the platform. His presence was different now—not the loud, hot-headed student, but a silent, clinical force. He looked down at Majtani's "unconscious" form.
"Listen closely," Leorio said, his voice carrying across the abyss. "I am a doctor. I know the exact threshold between a coma and a performance. If you don't wake up in the next five seconds, I will perform an emergency tracheotomy right here on this stone. I don't have anesthesia, and my blade is very, very sharp."
He drew his katana just an inch. The steel sang—a cold, hungry sound.
Majtani's eyes flew open. He scrambled backward, his face pale with a terror that surpassed his fear of the other prisoners. He surrendered immediately, scurrying back to his side of the arena.
"Three wins," Killua noted. "We've technically passed this floor. But wait—there's a fifth prisoner."
A man stepped out from the shadows. He was thin, with long, greasy hair and a surgical mask covering his face. He carried a leather roll of instruments that made Leorio's skin prickle.
"I am Johness the Dissector," the man whispered. His eyes were wide and glazed, reflecting a profound madness. "I don't care about the exam. I just want to feel... what's inside you."
Killua stepped forward, his expression turning cold and assassin-like. "I'll handle this one."
"No," Leorio said, placing a hand on Killua's shoulder.
Killua looked up, surprised. "Leorio? He's a serial killer. He's my specialty."
"He's a butcher," Leorio corrected, his gaze fixed on Johness. "A man who uses medical knowledge to desecrate life is a personal insult to my profession. Killua, you've shown your skills. Let me show mine."
Internal Monologue: I need to test the Water Breathing in a confined space. Netero was right—I need to see the 'space between the power.' Johness isn't a Nen user, but his physical speed is legendary in the underworld. This is a controlled experiment.
Leorio walked to the center of the platform. He didn't take a combat stance. He simply stood there, his hands hanging at his sides.
"I hear you like to remove hearts while they're still beating," Leorio said.
Johness giggled, a wet, rattling sound. "I've taken 146. Yours... yours feels so big. So full of blood. It will be my masterpiece."
In a blur of motion, Johness lunged. He was fast—fast enough that the average examinee wouldn't have even seen his shadow. His hand was arched like a claw, aimed directly for Leorio's sternum.
Leorio didn't move until the fingers were an inch from his coat.
"Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance."
Leorio's body became a shadow. He didn't just dodge; he moved with Johness's momentum, his body spiraling around the killer like water around a stone. He gripped Johness's wrist with a hand that felt like an iron vise.
"The heart is located in the mediastinum, slightly to the left of the midline," Leorio whispered in the killer's ear. "But to reach it, you have to bypass the ribcage and the pericardium. You're too messy, Johness."
Leorio applied a precise burst of Ko to his thumb and pressed it into a nerve cluster on Johness's forearm. The killer screamed as his hand went limp, the bones in his wrist grinding together.
"You aren't a dissector," Leorio said, his voice dropping to a terrifying chill. "You're a hack."
With a fluid motion, Leorio delivered a palm strike to Johness's temple. It wasn't meant to kill, but it was calibrated to induce a localized seizure. Johness collapsed, his eyes rolling back, his "legendary" speed silenced by a superior understanding of the flesh.
Leorio walked back to his group, not a single hair out of place.
"Wow," Gon whispered. "Leorio, you're amazing!"
"I just took out the trash, Gon," Leorio said, though he felt the familiar drain of the breathing technique. I need to increase my base stamina. If I keep using the multiplier, I'll be useless for the final rounds.
They progressed through the tower, navigating puzzles and traps with relative ease. However, Lippo had saved the cruelest test for the end.
They arrived at a final door with two paths.
"Path A: A long, arduous route that takes fifty hours, but all five of you can pass together."
"Path B: A short, easy route that takes only three minutes, but only three of you can pass. The other two will be locked in the tower."
The clock showed less than an hour remaining.
"Path A is impossible," Tonpa smirked. "We only have fifty-five minutes left. That means we have to choose Path B. And since I'm the veteran, I should be one of the three!"
Killua's eyes turned cold. "I can just kill you and Kurapika, and then Gon, Leorio, and I can pass."
"No one is killing anyone," Leorio barked. He was staring at the wall between the two doors. He tapped it with the hilt of his katana.
Internal Monologue: The structure is solid, but the acoustic resonance suggests a hollow space behind the partition. The 'choice' is a psychological trap. Lippo wants to see if we'll turn on each other, or if we'll find a way to break the system.
"Everyone, get back," Leorio said.
"What are you doing?" Kurapika asked.
Leorio didn't answer. He took a deep breath, his lungs expanding in a way that made his chest seem broader, his presence more imposing.
"Total Concentration... Constant. Water Breathing, Seventh Form: Drop Ripple Thrust."
He didn't draw the sword. He kept it in the scabbard. He lunged forward, the tip of the scabbard striking a specific structural weak point in the stone wall with the force of a battering ram.
BOOM.
The wall didn't just crack; it shattered. A hole large enough for a man to walk through appeared, revealing the "short" path on the other side.
"We take Path A," Leorio said, his breathing heavy. "But we use the shortcut I just made. We choose the long road, but we break the walls that try to slow us down."
"Leorio, that's brilliant!" Gon cheered.
They ran through the hole, passing through the final corridor just as the timer hit zero. They emerged at the base of the tower, the desert sun blindingly bright after the dim halls of the prison.
They were among the first twenty to pass. Satotz was waiting for them, checking his watch with a small nod of approval.
"Congratulations, Number 403," Satotz said. "You continue to surprise me. Not many examinees think to remodel the tower."
Leorio sat down on a rock, finally letting out a long, ragged exhale. His muscles were screaming. The 4.0x multiplier was a double-edged sword; it gave him the power of a god, but it left him with the recovery time of a mortal.
[NEN RESERVES: 42%]
[TIME UNTIL NEXT WORLD JUMP: 19 DAYS.]
"Nineteen days," Leorio whispered.
Internal Monologue: I'm getting closer to the limit. The Hunter Exam will be over by then. But what comes after? Zoldyck Family arc? Heavens Arena? If I'm going to survive the Phantom Troupe or the Chimera Ants, 'Water Breathing' won't be enough. I need to jump. I need the Jujutsu world.
He looked at his hands. They were steady, despite the exhaustion. He thought about the Cursed Energy of the other world—the raw, negative emotion turned into a weapon. If he could combine the biological efficiency of the Demon Slayer world with the metaphysical hax of Jujutsu Kaisen...
"Leorio-san?" Gon sat down next to him, offering a canteen of water. "Are you thinking about the next phase?"
"Something like that, Gon," Leorio said, taking a long drink. "I'm thinking about what kind of doctor I'm going to be."
"The best one!" Gon said firmly.
Leorio smiled. It was a genuine smile, one that reached his eyes. He looked at Kurapika and Killua, who were talking nearby. For the first time, he didn't see them as characters in a story or pawns on a board. They were his friends. And he would go to any world, face any monster, to keep them safe.
"The next phase is on a separate island," Kurapika said, walking over. "A game of tags. We'll be hunting each other."
Leorio stood up, his height casting a long shadow over the sand. He felt the weight of his katana and the resolve in his chest.
"Let them come," Leorio said. "I've already diagnosed the competition. Now, it's just a matter of the procedure."
As the sun began to set over the Trick Tower, the Specialist prepared for the most dangerous hunt of his life. He knew his target was likely Hisoka or someone equally lethal, but for the first time, he wasn't afraid. He was ready.