Borderline Pass

The wind swept across the platform, stirring the silence.

The sushi trial ended with a dull bell. The electronic board before the examiners' seats lit up at once, and a mass of red elimination marks rapidly filled the screen from top to bottom. In less than five minutes, nearly three-quarters of the numbers on the platform had been marked "Unqualified."

Ryan stood at the back of the line, calmly scanning the screen. No. 199—green, qualified. A note appeared beneath it:

Evaluation: Appearance matches the dish; flavor acceptable. Qualified (barely meets the minimum standard).

It was exactly the result he had expected. Menchi would not let anyone pass simply because their food tasted good. She only acknowledged an understanding of the "essence of the assignment." What Ryan had submitted was precisely a logical response that hit the mark.

Not far away, No. 301, Hanzo, was also on the list of qualified candidates. His seemingly crude rice ball had preserved sushi's original structure. Though his method had been barbaric, it still met the standard in terms of logic and composition.

On the other side of the platform, Menchi forcefully pressed the scoring button and casually tossed the clipboard back onto her seat. Buhara grinned as he wiped away sweat. "Didn't expect more than a dozen of them to be edible in the end. That's something, at least."

"I didn't get to eat anything delicious." Menchi's expression was grim. "Either this bunch has dead taste buds, or their brains are growing in their legs."

Flipping through the records, she murmured, "No. 199, Ryan—doesn't taste good, but understood the composition and form of sushi. No. 301, Hanzo—ingredient structure intact, technique far too crude, flavor ordinary. Barely qualified."

Buhara rubbed his chin. "Those two kids aren't bad. One made his like he was putting together a puzzle, and the other like he was molding a rice ball, but they're both far better than the idiots wrapping cordyceps around random stewed fish."

"I still think they fell short," Menchi said coldly. "Especially Ryan. He didn't look nervous at all. He didn't say a single word the entire time, and he cooked like he was solving a problem."

"Maybe that's what he's good at." Buhara shrugged. "It's an exam, not a cooking competition. It's part of a survival test."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the platform, Killua stood with one hand in his pocket. Only a half-ruined rice ball remained on his table. Menchi glanced at the score and actually showed rare confusion.

"This guy... ground the fish into paste, mixed it into the rice, then cracked an egg into it?"

Buhara took a bite and nearly choked. "It tastes strange, but... it's not bad."

Hisoka's table, meanwhile, was completely empty.

"He didn't submit anything," Menchi said flatly.

"He said, 'Bad food isn't worth wasting time on,'" a staff member nearby explained.

Menchi sneered. "At least he's honest."

Leorio's table was an even greater disaster—he had tried to boil the fish into soup and pour it over the rice. The rice had turned into a pot of porridge, while the overcooked fish floated on the surface.

Menchi marked him eliminated without even bothering to pick up her chopsticks.

When the final list was announced, there were shockingly few qualified candidates. The electronic screen flashed, "Second Phase Examination Complete," followed by a single statistic: fewer than three qualified candidates.

The atmosphere on the platform froze completely.

Many candidates stared at one another. Those who lost control of their emotions began protesting loudly. "This isn't fair!" "Nobody's even eaten that stuff before! How are we supposed to know whether we made it right?" "We didn't come here to learn how to cook!" "I want to become a Hunter, not a chef!"

The unrest spread rapidly. Anger gathered into a roaring wave of noise, and several candidates even rushed forward, wildly gesturing as they confronted Menchi and Buhara.

"You're eliminating us over this? Isn't that an insult?" "We ran dozens of kilometers, avoided traps, killed wild beasts, and now we're getting kicked out over a meal?"

Buhara stepped forward, trying to calm them down. "Everyone, everyone... this is actually meant to test your ability to adapt in unfamiliar situations..."

"I came here to become a Hunter, not deal with a bowl of rice!" a candidate angrily interrupted.

Menchi finally snapped. She slammed down her clipboard and shouted, "What do you people know?! Gourmet Hunters aren't chefs! We travel all over the world searching for strange ingredients no one has ever seen before. We have to determine whether they're edible, whether they're poisonous, and how to prepare them! You can't even make a single piece of sushi—what are you going to use to explore unknown prey?!"

The moment her words fell, an unusual disturbance stirred the air above the platform.

Everyone looked up to see an airship bearing the Hunter Association emblem slowly approaching from high above. A figure leaped from beneath the vessel, tracing a straight arc through the sky.

Bang!

The figure landed heavily, sending dust flying.

The candidates retreated again and again, their faces filled with alarm and uncertainty.

An old man stood amid the dust cloud. He wore a cotton-and-linen training robe, his long beard brushing against his chest, a wooden cane in his hand. His expression was gentle, yet his presence was overwhelming, as though merely standing there was enough to silence every dispute.

"Ahem, all this noise is giving me a headache."

Chairman Netero's voice was not loud, yet it instantly drowned out every other sound. He swept his gaze across the crowd and spoke casually. "I heard your complaints, and I heard Menchi's anger too."

"I'd say a test shouldn't be a cooking challenge that drives people to despair, even if that is rather interesting in itself." His words were like a stone dropped into a still lake, instantly stirring up waves among the candidates and triggering another burst of commotion.

"Who is he?"

"Is he from the Hunter Association?!"

Speculation and discussion rose one after another. The candidates looked at one another, filled with curiosity and confusion toward the old man who had suddenly appeared.

Then the old man spoke unhurriedly. "I am Netero, the current chairman of the Hunter Association."

His voice was not loud, but it exploded beside the candidates' ears like thunder. Stunned silence blanketed the entire examination site. Everyone was so shocked by the sudden revelation that they could not speak.

However, the silence did not last long. After their brief shock, the candidates finally came to their senses and swarmed Netero with complaints.

"Chairman! This exam is ridiculous!"

"We're not chefs!"

"Not everyone knows what sushi is!"

"We never even got a chance to show our real abilities!"

All kinds of complaints and dissatisfaction tangled together, as though they would drown the entire examination site.

Netero did not get angry at their complaints. Instead, he smiled slightly, a depth in his smile that was impossible to read.

He rested his chin on one hand, thought for a moment, then said, "Then let's do this. Menchi, give them another question. Don't make everyone spend more time guessing what you like, but don't make it too easy either. It should reveal whether these kids actually have what it takes."

Menchi glared furiously at the candidates. After a moment of silence, she said coldly, "Then... go to Spider Eagle's Nest Valley and make boiled eggs. We'll see who can bring one back—and who can come back alive."

"I really don't want to eat those eggs again," Buhara added quietly.

Netero nodded. "Very good. The objective is clear, the danger is moderate, and it can test their reflexes, judgment, and physical abilities."

He raised his head toward the airship. "Everyone aboard. Next stop—Spider Eagle's Nest Valley."

The airship slowly descended, and its hatch opened. The candidates filed aboard.

Ryan stood at the very back, looking toward the valley stretching to the horizon.

He remembered—it was Spider Eagle's Nest Valley.

The next round would be—an egg-retrieval mission amid the hot updrafts of a cliffside.