The room was far too quiet.
It was large, clean, and almost completely empty, with smooth flooring and enough open space that every little sound felt isolated. The air itself seemed still, as if even it knew that this wasn't a room for ordinary conversation.
Chairman Netero stood at the center of it with a rubber ball in one hand, dressed in simple sportswear, looking less like the head of the Hunter Association and more like some cheerful old man who had wandered into the wrong building.
And yet, somehow, the room still felt like it belonged to him.
Entirely.
Yuzuki stood across from him, his Six Eyes hidden once more behind fresh sunglasses provided by the Association. His body had been cleaned up, his wounds healed, his clothes replaced, but none of that changed the simple truth in front of him.
This was Chairman Isaac Netero.
The monster who stood at the peak of Hunters.
The old man who had fought Meruem.
The fact that he was about to play a ball game with him felt absurd.
Netero bounced the ball once against the floor and smiled.
"The rules are simple," he said. "Take the ball from me."
Yuzuki straightened up slightly.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
Yuzuki narrowed his eyes behind the glasses.
There was no way it was that simple.
Of course there wasn't.
This was Netero.
The old man had probably made "simple" into an art form.
Netero casually spun the ball on one finger, still smiling. "Whenever you're ready."
Yuzuki exhaled slowly.
Then he moved.
Fast.
He shot forward low and direct, aiming not for the ball first, but for Netero's posture. If he could force the Chairman to react in a way that revealed his center line, maybe he could chain from there.
His left hand went for the wrist.
His right aimed to cut off the most obvious retreat angle.
Netero disappeared.
One moment he was there, the next he had shifted just enough that Yuzuki's hands closed on empty space. The old man wasn't even far away either. Just slightly to the side, still holding the ball, expression unchanged.
Yuzuki immediately twisted and threw a backhand grab.
Nothing.
Netero was already behind him now.
"Heh," the Chairman chuckled.
Yuzuki turned sharply, eyes narrowing.
Fast.
Too fast.
But not in a wasteful way like Hisoka could be. Not explosive. Not flashy. Netero's speed was almost insulting in how clean it was. Like he had removed every unnecessary part of motion until only pure effectiveness remained.
Yuzuki didn't get frustrated.
Not yet.
He reset.
Then he circled.
Netero let him.
The old man stood casually with the ball tucked against one side, smiling as if this were a pleasant afternoon exercise.
Yuzuki watched the shoulders.
The elbows.
The feet.
The line of the spine.
Then he lunged again.
This time he didn't attack directly. He feinted high, stepped left, then kicked lightly at Netero's lead leg to force a compensating shift in balance. The instant the shift happened, Yuzuki's hand shot toward the ball.
Netero moved first.
Again.
The Chairman's body turned just enough that Yuzuki's fingers brushed fabric and nothing more. Netero was somehow already a half-step beyond the trap before it had fully formed.
Yuzuki clicked his tongue and pressed harder.
He attacked in combinations now, not trying to grab the ball immediately, but to build a situation where taking it would become inevitable.
A shoulder feint.
A low sweep.
A hand trap.
A sudden burst to the blind side.
Netero evaded all of it with infuriating grace.
Every time Yuzuki thought he had mapped a response, the old man showed a variation that was somehow even simpler than the one before.
Minutes passed.
Yuzuki tried angles.
Tried rhythm changes.
Tried sudden starts and stops.
Once, he even deliberately overcommitted to bait what he thought would be the most logical punishment lane, only for Netero to choose a completely different answer that left Yuzuki turning in place like an idiot while the Chairman softly laughed behind him.
This was ridiculous.
And amazing.
Yuzuki backed off, breathing slightly harder now.
Netero still looked fresh.
"Thinking?" the Chairman asked.
"Yes."
"That's good."
Yuzuki didn't answer. He was already thinking through the problem again.
Raw speed was not enough.
Skill alone was not enough.
Even reading intent through the Six Eyes was not enough, because Netero's movements were so controlled that by the time an opening appeared, he had already folded the next three responses into it.
This wasn't just about movement.
It was about levels.
About the depth of experience behind the body in front of him.
Still—
That didn't mean the game was impossible.
It just meant taking the obvious path was stupid.
Yuzuki changed his breathing.
Slowed it.
Then rushed again, this time much less elegantly.
A direct charge.
A bad-looking one.
He knew Netero would notice.
That was the point.
The Chairman's smile widened just slightly, clearly seeing the roughness for what it was: bait.
But Yuzuki layered the ugliness on purpose. He let his line of attack look inefficient, then cleaned it up in the middle, switching footing and turning the apparent failure into a real attempt at the ball.
Netero's eyebrows rose a fraction.
That one had at least been interesting.
Still not enough.
The old man tilted backward, the ball staying just out of reach, then used the smallest redirection on Yuzuki's wrist to send the boy stumbling two steps past him.
Yuzuki caught himself, turned, and this time couldn't help smiling.
'This is insane.'
He loved it.
For the next stretch of the game, the room became a dance of almosts.
Yuzuki almost had the wrist.
Almost trapped the elbow.
Almost intercepted the shift in posture.
Almost touched the ball.
Each attempt got closer.
Not because Netero was slowing down, but because Yuzuki was learning.
The Chairman noticed too.
Every adjustment Yuzuki made was intelligent. When a path failed once, he didn't reuse it blindly. When Netero exposed a habit, Yuzuki tested whether it was real or planted. He wasn't fighting like a child desperate to win.
He was thinking like a Hunter.
At one point, Yuzuki deliberately forced Netero toward the wall, then attacked from a split angle, one hand for the ball and the other positioned to catch the most likely evasion path.
It was the best setup he'd created all day.
Netero still escaped.
But he had to move for real that time.
And Yuzuki saw it.
That spark of progress was enough to drive him harder.
Eventually, after more failed attempts and more quiet laughter from the old man, Yuzuki stepped back again.
Now he was genuinely sweating.
Netero was not.
The Chairman bounced the ball once. "You're doing well."
"That sounds like something said by people who are not under any pressure."
Netero laughed.
"Fair enough."
Yuzuki rolled one shoulder.
There was one thing left to try.
One unfair thing.
Or at least, one thing that should have been unfair.
If Netero was this far above him physically and technically, then the only chance Yuzuki had was to disrupt the object itself.
Not the man.
The ball.
He inhaled once, deeply.
Then moved.
He rushed from the front, gave Netero the cleanest, most readable line yet, and at the same moment sent a tiny pulse of Blue toward the ball itself.
Not enough to rip it away violently.
Just enough to create that slight, irresistible attraction.
A subtle drag.
A crooked inevitability.
For the briefest moment—
It worked.
The ball shifted.
Yuzuki's eyes sharpened.
'Got—'
Netero adjusted.
That was all.
The Chairman simply changed the timing of his wrist and the angle of his arm by an amount so small it almost didn't exist, and the ball remained in his hand as though Blue had never touched it at all.
Yuzuki's hand closed on nothing again.
He froze.
Then looked up.
Netero was smiling at him with open approval now.
"Heh. That was clever."
Yuzuki stared for a second.
Then exhaled in disbelief and stepped back fully.
"So even that doesn't work."
"Against me?" Netero said. "Not yet."
Yuzuki's chest rose and fell slowly as he looked at the Chairman.
Really looked at him.
And what he felt in that moment wasn't frustration.
It wasn't humiliation either.
It was awe.
A pure, sharp, undeniable awe at the difference in level between them.
He had known Netero was strong.
Had known it intellectually.
But knowing it and standing in front of it were two different things entirely.
Netero tucked the ball under his arm again and said, "There are many kinds of strength, Yuzuki."
The old man's tone had shifted now. Still warm, still light, but carrying something heavier beneath it.
"Speed. Technique. Aura. Intelligence. Talent. Instinct." He smiled. "You have all of those in impressive amounts."
Yuzuki stayed silent.
"But strength," Netero continued, "is also depth."
He tapped one finger lightly against his own chest.
"The accumulation of years. Experience layered over experience. Failure over failure. Understanding over understanding. What feels impossible to you now becomes instinct to someone who has spent decades refining it."
Yuzuki listened with complete attention.
Netero's eyes sharpened, just a little.
"You are talented. More than most. But talent is only the right to stand at the bottom of a greater mountain."
Yuzuki lowered his head slightly, then smiled.
"A very big mountain."
Netero laughed. "Exactly."
For a second, the room was quiet again.
Then Yuzuki looked up, eyes bright behind the glasses, and said with complete seriousness,
"Then I've decided."
Netero raised a brow. "Oh?"
Yuzuki straightened.
"One day, I want to become the Chairman of the Hunter Association."
The silence lasted half a second.
Then Netero burst out laughing.
A full, genuine laugh this time.
"Well said!"
Yuzuki grinned faintly.
Netero wiped at the corner of one eye as if the declaration had delighted him more than it should have. "You'll have to wait another hundred years, though."
Yuzuki blinked.
Netero smiled broadly. "I'm not dying anytime soon."
That got a laugh out of Yuzuki too.
The mood shifted after that.
Netero clapped his hands once. "Come, then. Enough playing."
He turned and began walking toward a side door.
Yuzuki followed.
---
The next room looked almost painfully academic.
Rows of desks. A lectern. Shelves lined with files. Chalkboard. Neat, formal, and so classroom-like that Yuzuki half-expected a teacher to begin writing formulas any second.
Beans was already waiting there with a stack of documents in his arms.
He looked up when the two entered and smiled politely. "Chairman. Yuzuki."
Netero gestured vaguely toward him. "Beans is going to tell you all the boring things you need to know."
Beans adjusted his glasses. "It is not boring. It is extremely important."
Netero was already halfway to a seat in the back of the room. "That too."
Yuzuki sat down at one of the desks while Beans moved to the front like the world's most efficient lecturer.
He cleared his throat and began.
"As an official Hunter, you are now granted legal access to all benefits and responsibilities associated with Hunter licensure. This includes, but is not limited to, entry into restricted zones, access to confidential data archives when properly cleared, transportation privileges—"
Yuzuki listened.
For a while.
Then he stopped listening.
Not because Beans wasn't clear.
He was painfully clear.
That was part of the problem.
Rules. Regulations. Protocols. Filing standards. Reporting expectations. Association conduct. Penalty conditions. Internal review processes. License misuse clauses.
It just kept going.
And going.
And going.
At one point Yuzuki glanced toward Netero in the back of the room.
The Chairman had one elbow propped on a desk and looked just as bored as he felt.
Yuzuki stared.
Netero stared back.
Then, at the exact same time, both of them sighed.
Beans continued, unaware or pretending to be.
"As a licensed Hunter, failure to properly report conflicts involving registered contract disputes may result in the suspension of mission access under Clause Fourteen, Subsection—"
"Enough," Netero said.
Beans froze mid-sentence.
The Chairman rose from his seat and waved a hand lazily. "He gets it."
Beans looked scandalized. "Chairman, with respect, he does not yet get it. I haven't even finished the regulation concerning—"
"He'll learn the rest when it becomes annoying enough to matter."
"That is not how proper onboarding works!"
"It is today."
Beans looked deeply unhappy.
Yuzuki tried not to laugh.
Failed a little.
Netero then turned back toward him and said, "Now, the part that actually matters. You need to choose an area to specialize in."
Yuzuki blinked. "Specialize?"
Beans, still mildly offended, recovered enough to explain. "Hunters generally establish a field or area of expertise. This makes it easier to build a reputation, complete relevant work, and eventually earn stars."
Netero nodded. "Stars matter. They raise your standing as a Hunter."
Yuzuki thought for a second.
Then answered, "I want to be a Variety Hunter."
That got a pause.
Beans blinked.
Netero tilted his head.
"A Variety Hunter?" the Chairman repeated.
Yuzuki nodded. "I don't want to be boxed into one category."
Beans opened his mouth, but Netero spoke first.
"That would make it much harder for you to earn stars."
Yuzuki met his gaze evenly.
"If I'm going to become Chairman one day, then taking the easy path would be pointless."
That got another laugh of approval out of Netero.
"Well said."
Beans rubbed his forehead. "I see I'm being outvoted by ambition."
"Correct," Netero said cheerfully.
Then the Chairman added, "There is usually a final part of becoming a proper Hunter. Nen."
Yuzuki nodded. "I know."
"Yes," Netero said dryly. "I noticed."
That earned a tiny smile from Yuzuki.
Beans then stepped forward with far more ceremony than the object itself probably required and held out a small card.
Yuzuki looked down.
The Hunter License.
Sleek. Dark. Elegant.
Beans smiled as he handed it over.
"Congratulations once more, Yuzuki."
Yuzuki took it carefully.
For a second, he simply looked at it.
Then his fingers closed around the card.
He had done it.
Through madness, death, resurrection, murder clowns, and divine fraud—
He had become a Hunter.
And somehow, impossibly, this was only the beginning.
---
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