"Only one person passed."
Those words kept looping endlessly in the ears of the examinees. Some of them even dug at their ears, thinking they must have misheard.
This had to be a mistake, right?
This was the Hunter Exam—only the second phase, yet only one person had passed? And eliminated in such a bizarre way?
There was no way they'd heard that correctly.
Hanzo was completely dumbfounded as well. He had clearly done everything he could. Using his hometown cuisine as the exam dish, yet still being eliminated—he could only conclude that he must have opened the plate lid incorrectly.
The examinees began to stir.
No one was willing to be eliminated for something like this. Failing because you couldn't make the dish was one thing—but producing it and still being eliminated due to "personal taste"? This wasn't a chef selection exam.
That was absolutely unacceptable.
"I knew this would happen."
Lu Ou felt the need to rub his temples. What a mess. With Menchi's emotional intelligence, she was practically forcing the examinees into an uprising.
Leorio was hot-tempered too. Lu figured he'd better keep an eye on him—some situations didn't need unnecessary heroics.
After locating Gon and the others, Lu Ou slowly walked over.
"Ou… what are we going to do?"
Gon looked like a frostbitten eggplant—completely wilted and lacking energy. Seeing Lu Ou lifted his spirits a little.
And that was understandable. Anyone who came into the exam full of confidence, only to be cut down at the very beginning for reasons like this, wouldn't be in a good mood.
"Logically speaking, we should be fine," Lu Ou said, patting Gon on the shoulder, signaling him not to overthink it.
"Ou, what do you mean by that? What logic?" Leorio blurted out impatiently. He hated keeping things bottled up, and right now Lu Ou's words felt like their last lifeline.
"The first phase of the Hunter Exam tests stamina, willpower, and mental endurance. The second phase actually tests observation, attention, and courage. It has very little to do with cooking skill itself."
"No one ever said all Hunters must become Gourmet Hunters. There are countless Hunter professions. Choosing one is a matter of freedom—there's no mandatory specialization."
"So yes, Examiner Menchi is overly strict. The Hunter Association won't ignore a situation like this. And judging by our overall abilities, we're more than qualified. Don't worry—the Association won't let promising candidates slip through the cracks."
Lu Ou laid out his reasoning clearly, hoping to calm his companions. The make-up exam was practically guaranteed. Maintaining a good mindset was what mattered now.
"Yeah… I think Ou's right," Kurapika said after thinking it through. His mood finally improved a little.
Obtaining a Hunter License as soon as possible—and hunting down the Spiders to avenge his clan—had become an obsession for him. If everything ended here, he wasn't sure what he might do.
"Ou's probably right," Killua said, arms crossed, looking fairly detached.
To him, this was just a game. If it stopped being fun, he could always quit and find another one. But after spending time with Lu Ou and the others, he'd grown fond of them. He wanted to keep playing together—and that made him take things more seriously than before.
"Yeah! Ou's amazing, so it must be like that," Gon said enthusiastically.
As a devoted fan, he trusted Lu Ou unconditionally—true loyalty of a hardcore admirer.
"Then let's just wait and see," Leorio said, deciding to observe how things unfolded.
However, the other examinees were nowhere near as calm.
Without Lu Ou's analysis, emotions flared wildly. The crowd was on the verge of exploding.
"What exactly is this supposed to mean?" Hanzo spoke up, his expression forcibly restrained into calm—years of brutal ninja training showing through.
"Don't joke with us," Tonpa snarled, clearly in a foul mood.
"Who could possibly accept a result like this?" the Amori brothers ground their teeth, completely unwilling to accept it.
Menchi looked at the examinees now questioning her and felt confused.
What was going on?
Weren't those who failed supposed to leave?
She genuinely didn't understand the situation.
Buhara wore an expression that said I knew this would happen, utterly helpless and unsure how to handle it.
The examinees crowded around Menchi, faces full of resentment—some even openly menacing—refusing to leave.
Seeing this, Menchi grew angry. She believed she was absolutely in the right. This was exactly how the evaluation should be conducted.
She pulled out her phone and prepared to call the committee.
"I don't care. I'm simply reporting the results to the committee," Menchi said confidently—her trust in her own palate absolute.
No one knew what was said on the other end of the line, but Menchi soon shouted angrily:
"Impossible! The results are already final—!"
She showed no sign of compromise.
"Once Menchi gets obsessive about food, it never ends," Buhara muttered helplessly. How had things escalated this far?
"Buhara, stop talking. Don't interrupt me," Menchi snapped, growing even angrier at the sound of his voice, ignoring the call entirely.
"This is unheard of," Tonpa muttered. After participating in so many Hunter Exams, even he had never seen a situation like this—and had no idea how it would be resolved.
"This phase is under my authority. Who here dares to object?"
Menchi sat back on the sofa, her tone sharp as she addressed the examinees.
"You've got to be kidding."
"We're being eliminated because of cooking?"
"This makes no sense at all!"
"I don't believe it—how can we be eliminated like this?!"
Menchi's words didn't calm the crowd. Instead, they were like fuel thrown onto a fire. The reactions grew even more intense, with no one accepting her ruling.
"Looks like this won't end anytime soon," Sadaso—ever the professional spectator—said with concern. How was this supposed to wrap up?
"In any case, my conclusion will not change. The number of people who pass the second test is one."
Menchi spoke decisively into the phone.
"One."
"Sorry—pause, pause for a moment!"
No one knew when Gon had rushed over, but he suddenly grabbed the phone and spoke into it.
Gon trusted Lu Ou's judgment completely—but instead of waiting for an opportunity, he chose to create one himself. That was faster.
"What are you doing? Give me back the phone!" Menchi shouted, snatching it away.
"Listen to me. I have to pass the Hunter Exam—so I can find my dad."
Gon stood before Menchi, his voice unwavering.
Unlike typical hot-blooded protagonists, Gon's personality was different—if anything, he leaned toward chaotic neutral.
As long as he could achieve his goal, breaking the rules didn't bother him.
"That's unfortunate," Menchi replied calmly.
"But the authority to determine whether someone passes the Hunter Exam lies entirely with the examiner."
"That means me."
"Understand, kid?"