Path of Illusions

The dampness grew heavier, and the ground beneath their feet began to turn sticky. Every step came with a fine, clinging pull, as though the entire marshland had opened its mouth and was slowly swallowing the runners.

The wind vanished, and even breathing became sluggish. Satotz's figure ahead remained clearly visible, yet with every passing second, he seemed to grow farther away. What was running farther and farther away was not a person, but time.

Ryan remained in the middle of the main group. His Zetsu state was unchanged, his Nen fully restrained, not a trace of energy leaking from his body. He was like a drop of ink in water, wrapped in thick fog and mud, yet never blending with the outside world.

A scream came from the front-right.

"Ah! Wh-what is this?! My foot—"

From the corner of his eye, Ryan saw a tall, thin male examinee tumble headfirst into a sunken patch. It had looked like a shallow layer of floating grass, but the moment he stepped on it, the whole thing sank like a living mouth.

Several examinees stopped, trying to pull him out, only to slip and fall one after another. In just a few seconds, three people were trapped.

Not far away, a middle-aged examinee in a grayish-yellow jacket stood at the edge of the mud. With an innocent-looking expression, he pretended to call out anxiously, "Are you all right? Don't move around, I'll help you!"

His voice was not loud, yet it carried a reassuring warmth. Someone instinctively ran toward him, hoping to rely on his judgment to determine where to go next.

"To the right! Go around from the right! The ground is dry over there!"

He raised a hand and pointed in one direction with a sincere expression.

But Ryan did not alter his course.

His calm gaze rested on that so-called "dry ground"—its edges were slightly sunken, and the grass had a yellowish tint. That meant the area was actually a floating sink layer left behind by receding moisture, slowly collecting water. The moment someone stepped on it, a third of the ground would collapse.

This man... wasn't making a mistake.

Ryan quickly adjusted his steps and bypassed the area. At the same time, a name surfaced in his mind—Tonpa.

He remembered this man. In the original story, Tonpa had repeatedly used laxatives, misdirection, and moral pretense to sabotage examinees. He mingled among the newcomers under the guise of an experienced big brother, but in truth, he was a habitual Hunter Exam participant devoted to increasing the number of failures.

Sure enough, another young examinee in the distance believed Tonpa and ran toward the direction he had indicated.

"Ahhh—!"

The next second, his entire body plunged into the ground. Muddy water surged upward, nearly swallowing half of him.

"How could this... wasn't this supposed to be safe..." His face turned pale as he struggled to crawl out, already panicking.

Tonpa immediately put on an expression of "I didn't expect this either," displaying a practiced look of surprise and guilt. "Ah!? Was I wrong? It looked like you could get through just now..."

As he spoke, he took a step back, doing his best to look "innocent."

Ryan did not help. He merely passed Tonpa from three meters away, circling toward a higher grassy slope. Judging from the visual contrast and the impressions on the ground, no one had used this path for at least ten minutes, and it could still bear weight.

He said nothing and did not look back. In Zetsu, he was like a silhouette without a presence, quietly moving away from the center of the chaos.

Tonpa... type: hypocrite; traits: manipulates language, gives leading instructions; assessment: dangerous, unsuitable for close contact.

Ryan placed Tonpa under the category of "priority observation target" in his mind. He was in no hurry to deal with him. He only needed to remember his methods and preferences; eventually, a weakness would reveal itself.

The running continued, while the illusions became more frequent.

An examinee ahead suddenly stopped and pointed into the air in terror. "Look, is that... a corpse?!"

"You saw it too? I saw it too!"

"Don't look! It's fake, it's fake!"

Chaos spread through the fog like grass seeds. Illusions mingled with the real surroundings, gradually tearing cracks into the running formation.

Ryan simply kept moving forward.

The running did not stop, but the fog seemed to be slowly closing in.

More and more examinees began experiencing hallucinations. Some saw walls, some saw cliffs, and others stepped into "pools," only to sink into bogs.

The fear did not come from the terrain, but from uncertainty—no one knew when the ground beneath them would collapse, or when the companion beside them would vanish into the fog.

Just then, a piercing scream tore through the mist.

"Ahhh—don't kill me!!"

Everyone instinctively looked up or stopped. It was an examinee's voice, coming from the rear-left flank of the group. Then another scream, harsh and tearing, rang out and made their scalps prickle.

"Something happened over there!"

"Someone—something is killing people!"

Chaos erupted rapidly. Some tried to run faster, while others fell in panic. The rhythm of the entire group was thrown into disarray.

Ryan did not stop. He sidestepped an examinee who crashed toward him in panic, then swiftly leaped onto a floating rock. Using a faint layer of Ten to reinforce his lower body, he raised his vantage point.

In the fog, a graceful yet eerie figure approached at an unhurried pace.

Red hair, playing cards, a wicked smile.

Hisoka—had officially made his move.

He was like a beast patrolling its hunting ground, undisguised pleasure on his face. Several examinees lay sprawled around him, some convulsing, others unconscious.

"Too boring... who's next?"

He murmured softly, spinning a playing card between his fingers. The curve of his lips resembled a red crescent moon.

Just as this area was about to sink into silence once more, hurried panting sliced through the fog.

"Cough, cough—damn it... Kurapika, watch out!!"

It was Leorio's voice.

Ryan's gaze shifted rapidly. He caught sight of Leorio stepping into a patch of soft mud and losing his balance, while Kurapika tried to pull him out but could not exert any force in the mire. The two were about to be exposed directly in front of Hisoka.

Danger was closing in.

Ryan made his judgment: if he did not intervene, Kurapika and Leorio would very likely be killed on the spot. Hisoka's killing intent was unchecked right now. They were not targets, merely "obstacles in the way." But obstacles in the way would die.

He could not get too deeply involved with the main group, but he could not turn a blind eye either. Perhaps his intervention had caused some deviation from the original plot. No matter what, he could not simply hope for a miracle.

In two short seconds, he decided to act.

Using Ten to gather strength in his legs, Ryan shifted five meters to the left and landed on a half-submerged floating stone. He bent down, grabbed a handful of wet soil, rubbed it between his fingers, then flung it hard.

The wet soil flew between Hisoka and the two examinees, scattering through the air in a fan shape. It struck several vine-covered trees and dead branches, producing a rapid series of sharp pops.

Hisoka halted, and the playing card in his hand trembled slightly.

That instant of sound disrupted the rhythm he had anticipated. As though he had noticed something, he slowly turned his head.

Ryan had already leaped back into the fog and returned to Zetsu.

In the distance, Kurapika suddenly reacted. He hauled Leorio up and rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding the pouncing route that had already been locked onto them.

"Whew... who was that... over there?"

He frowned slightly as he looked over, but the fog had already spread out, and there was no figure in sight.

Hisoka narrowed his eyes, licked the mud from his fingertips, and smiled instead.

"Oh... there's someone else. Interesting," Hisoka said with a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, his eyes narrowing.

He slowly walked two steps toward the direction disturbed by the flying soil, then stopped.

"You hid very well... who are you?"

There was no response. The fog swallowed him again, as though nothing had happened.

Ryan held his breath and returned to a blind spot three columns away from his original position, once again concealing himself within the flow of the group. He knew—that strike would not make Hisoka fixate on him. But it would make him remember an "interesting" afterimage.

The running continued.

And in this trial ground shrouded in fog, for the first time—killing intent was suppressed.