Chapter 62: Hello
Haze was unaware of the conversation between Netero and Biscuit about him.
He was lying on a hotel bed, replaying his battle with the old man in his mind.
"Even after all these years, his physical condition…"
Haze murmured to himself.
Netero's current physical strength should actually surpass what it was when he fought the Ant King, Meruem. After all, at his age, his health should have deteriorated further by now.
For any Nen user below Haze's level, the old man's physical prowess would still be untouchable.
That fact alone made the terrifying nature of Neferpitou and the Ant King even clearer.
When Netero first met Neferpitou, he'd admitted that in close combat, he had little chance of winning against that catlike creature.
And yet… he still dared to face the King himself.
Perhaps that's what makes humans unique—
even without Netero, someone else would have used the Poor Man's Rose to accomplish the same goal.
"It's nearly impossible for interspecies beings to overcome such a gap through effort or time," Haze said quietly, staring up at the ceiling.
He could hardly imagine the true power of the Ant King's body—
it felt utterly unreachable for any human.
"My only hope… is to use my mind."
His lips twitched. His body still ached everywhere.
The mind holds infinite possibilities.
His ability—Treasure of the Infinite Visionary Game—had been created precisely for this kind of situation.
"Keep developing your martial arts… I've only strengthened parts of my body before. My physical form still has serious limitations.
I need to improve it as a whole. My muscles, bones, and flesh are nearly fully matured now… I must maintain my condition and keep training. I'm still far from enough in every aspect…"
After witnessing Netero's overwhelming prowess, Haze's dormant ambitions reignited.
He couldn't stop now.
Time passed slowly.
In the following days, the number of outsiders wandering the streets of Bange increased—but not by much.
These were the candidates who had passed the preliminaries.
The number of participants in the Hunter Exam each year was enormous.
But the ratio of those who passed the preliminary rounds and reached the final examination site was only 1 in 10,000.
Usually, only a few hundred made it through—which meant that several million people took the exam every year.
Some years were better than others.
In the 287th Exam—the one that featured Gon and Killua—there had been just over 400 participants. That was considered a good year.
Recently, Haze had occasionally visited Pavilion 3 at the amusement park.
The final registration deadline was approaching, and with only about 200 numbered tickets remaining, he estimated that this year's total wouldn't exceed 400 participants… maybe around 300.
Definitely a bad year.
Not because of a lack of applicants, but because the preliminary rounds had likely been tougher than usual.
Fewer candidates had made it through, and the talented ones were scarce.
Some of the successful candidates chose to stay in the hall and wait for the final day—using the time to meet others and gather information.
Others, like Haze, came by occasionally to check in.
But the atmosphere inside was always tense and hostile—everyone was wary of everyone else.
Still, there were a few outgoing types.
For example… in his past life, the man once hailed by his loyal fans as the "True God"—Tonpa.
He was short, stocky, and had a square nose—but his demeanor exuded sincerity and warmth, putting others at ease.
Whenever Haze visited the hall, Tonpa could always be seen enthusiastically chatting with newcomers, introducing himself as a "senior" and sharing his experiences in past Hunter Exams. He radiated an air of compassion and concern for the younger generation.
Sometimes his friendliness was met with cold indifference, but Tonpa never seemed to mind.
To date, he had taken the Hunter Exam nearly thirty times—
meaning he once shared an exam year with Moritonio and Kingfrees.
It wasn't clear whether he'd reached the final exam hall or met them personally, but that much experience made him a true veteran.
The preliminary exams weren't hard for those with skill and intellect, but for the average person, each pass was a trial of willpower and persistence.
Even small progress, accumulated over dozens of attempts, gave Tonpa a subtle advantage.
Though calling him a "god" might be a joke, his perseverance—continuing to take the Hunter Exam again and again without losing spirit—was truly remarkable.
One shouldn't underestimate him just because of appearances.
Even Haze regarded Tonpa as anything but ordinary.
He'd been watching him for amusement—but each time, Tonpa failed to notice his gaze.
Haze eventually realized why. The badge on Tonpa's chest read 001.
That meant he'd been the very first to arrive.
Even as a veteran, Tonpa still seemed a little uneasy.
Haze's own number was 49, putting him closer to the front of the list as well.
Tonpa didn't approach him—
and though Haze felt a twinge of disappointment, he wasn't about to exploit the man's reputation for attention.
Finally, the last day of the preliminaries arrived.
Haze came early that morning and found a quiet spot to sit, idly scrolling through his phone—texting with David about recent events and changes in the underground world.
People gathered in small groups.
Some already knew each other, others had bonded during the preliminaries.
The atmosphere was heavy with tension. Even when people spoke, it was in hushed tones.
Nearby candidates kept glancing toward him, their eyes fixed on the number 001 pinned to his chest.
The damage from his fight with Netero still hadn't healed.
The Association's standards seemed to be declining…
From the corner of his eye, Haze spotted Tonpa wandering among the crowd again, happily greeting newcomers.
Those familiar with him smiled mockingly. Many had taken the exam two or three times already and knew Tonpa's true personality well enough not to be fooled.
After all—fewer competitors meant better odds for them.
"Wow… so many people! What a crowd!"
Suddenly, a loud voice echoed from the entrance, drawing everyone's attention.
Every time someone entered, hundreds of eyes scanned them from head to toe.
Anyone with social anxiety would've collapsed on the spot.
Two people walked in.
The man in front, dressed in sportswear with his hands in his pockets, radiated calm confidence.
His slicked-back blond hair and nearly invisible eyebrows gave his sharp features an intimidating edge. His cold eyes carried a faint menace.
Behind him walked another young man, the one who had spoken.
He had a bright, open face—the picture of youthful energy—looking around curiously and cheerfully, smiling as though nothing could faze him.
As they approached the hall, the crowd instinctively shifted to block their way.
The blond man's gaze snapped toward them—his pupils tightening as he barked, "Move!"
"…"
The candidates flinched in anger—but the moment they met his eyes, fear froze them in place. They stepped aside without a word.
"Hey, Phinks… be polite. Don't scare them," said the man behind him with a friendly grin, patting his shoulder.
As they passed a few stunned examinees, he even added, "Excuse us."
"Hmph."
Phinks didn't respond—his face twisted in disdain.
From across the hall, Haze—who had been quietly observing—lifted the corner of his mouth.
What a surprise.
The two new arrivals were none other than Phinks and Nobunaga—
the Brigade's Numbers 5 and 6.
Haze narrowed his eyes.
He remembered that in the original story, Nobunaga had a Hunter License…
but he hadn't expected to see Phinks here as well.
And now—they'd both appeared before him.
Interesting.
He had thought this exam would be boring.
Their badge numbers were among the top hundred, meaning they'd arrived in Bange quite some time ago but had chosen to stay hidden.
As they moved through the hall, candidates instinctively cleared a path.
Eventually, the two stopped right where Haze sat.
The rest of the room was relatively empty—no one dared sit near him.
Everyone recognized the man in the black suit who was constantly checking his phone.
The number 001 on his chest marked him as dangerous.
The two groups were barely three meters apart.
Phinks and Nobunaga looked at the man sitting casually on the floor, who didn't even glance up from his phone.
They both noticed the number 001.
Sensing the nervous tension directed toward Haze, Phinks smirked.
His lips curled into a taunting grin.
He looked ready to say something—
—but before he could, Nobunaga quickly grabbed his arm and stepped aside toward the wall.
He raised a hand in greeting. "Hello."
Hearing the voice, Haze tilted his head slightly, adjusted his sunglasses with one finger, and smiled.
"Hello."
(End of Chapter)
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