Hunter Association
Pariston smiled when he learned that the Nation of Rabi had voluntarily called off its farce with the Republic of Padokea.
In truth, neither party wanted to let the matter escalate.
The "two parties" here are the Republic of Padokea and the Mimbo Republic.
Rabi was merely a pawn.
Padokea's national strength far surpassed Rabi's; the war had been lopsided from the outset.
Still, Pariston hadn't expected it to end so quickly. As the hidden mastermind, Mimbo had even dispatched some Nen users to assist Rabi, so by rights the fighting should have lasted at least a month.
Instead, it was over in less than half a month.
According to his information, the Kakin Empire had given Padokea no help whatsoever… So only two possibilities remained:
1. A covert faction was operating inside Padokea, or
2. Padokea had fielded a trump‑card combat force during the war—one strong enough to decide the outcome.
"The regular army never entered the fray, and no top‑tier national Nen users appeared… Word from Kakin's royal family is that Padokea sent out a special unit—probably an outfit run by Xiang Nan—connected to Nen."
Inside his office Pariston gazed out the window, speaking with playful interest.
That meant Xiang Nan commanded exceptionally capable subordinates—and that he had access to intelligence channels outside official ones. Otherwise he couldn't have reacted so fast.
"The underworld, is it?"
Pariston's lips curled.
…
Two months later — some city in the Kukan'yu Kingdom
Recently Xiang Nan had been helping the Ten Dons with assorted assignments.
But not every mission required the Shadow Beasts to appear in person; throughout the underworld, few incidents merited their deployment. Thus Xiang Nan still enjoyed a fair amount of freedom and downtime.
He stopped in front of an old‑style restaurant teeming with customers and stepped inside.
The place was striking—a ten‑storey pagoda‑like building of carved beams and painted rafters. A huge gold‑etched signboard hung over the door bearing a single character: "Food."
Such architecture looked both jarringly out of place and intriguingly special amid the modern cityscape.
In fact, the restaurant was a city landmark, world‑famous and frequented by gourmets and dignitaries alike.
It was owned by two‑star Gourmet Hunter Linne Horsdoeuvre and had been in business nearly a century.
Plenty of heads of state had dined here. Xiang Nan, long familiar with its reputation, was no exception.
Linne had retired years ago and seldom cooked herself, yet she still visited the establishment once per year.
The main floors were packed, but Xiang Nan—showing his Hunter License—was escorted to the top floor, a courtesy extended to professional Hunters. Guests up here possessed noteworthy status; unlike the jam‑packed lower levels, this floor still had open tables.
To Xiang Nan's surprise, Menchi and Buhara were present as well. They looked equally taken aback when he stepped from the elevator. Seating was tight, and since all three were Hunters they were placed together.
"You?" Menchi asked as Xiang Nan sat calmly.
Indeed—nearly everyone visiting today belonged to the culinary world. If she remembered correctly, Xiang Nan's profession was medical research; why would he care about gourmet food?
"I may lack the talent of a Gourmet Hunter," Xiang Nan smiled, "but tasting fine cuisine is still a pleasure."
"Hah," Menchi snorted. "At least you know your limits." She recalled that during the Hunter Exam Xiang Nan had failed her cooking test with utterly mediocre dishes.
Soon the staff brought menus. Xiang Nan ordered a few dishes at random; eating wasn't his real purpose today.
Menchi, annoyed by his nonchalant attitude, muttered:
"Letting an amateur sample such rare delicacies is pure waste. Food is more than flavor—it's the story behind each dish: how Linne-senpai hunted down those ingredients."
"Understood… Don't worry, I paid," Xiang Nan replied.
Menchi ground her teeth—clearly they were on different wavelengths. Buhara hurried to calm her.
When the food arrived, Xiang Nan began to eat. Even a layman could taste the dishes' exquisite subtleties, though compared with the awed, emotional reactions of Menchi and Buhara, his appreciation felt shallow. Different crafts, different eyes.
Many other Gourmet Hunters were on the same floor; after closing time Linne would meet these juniors to share wisdom—a chance Gourmet Hunters valued greatly.
…
A private room after dinner
Xiang Nan and about ten Gourmet Hunters followed Menchi into a tatami‑lined tea‑room where the elderly Linne sat.
Her face was deeply wrinkled, her small frame stooped, short hair pepper‑gray. Age lent her a faint cuteness despite the dignified air. Everyone offered hurried greetings.
Though only a two‑star Hunter, Linne was an unmatched titan of gastronomy; countless methods of sourcing and preparing rare ingredients had spread because she taught them. Many culinary schools bore her influence. As for why she never sought a third star, only she knew; she could have attained it easily.
Xiang Nan was the only non‑Gourmet Hunter present.
The others bombarded Linne with questions about today's dishes—where to find certain ingredients, how to process them, what dangers were involved. She answered each patiently, describing forbidden zones, powerful beasts, precise harvest times, and specialized preparation techniques—intricate and complex even to an outsider like Xiang Nan.
He soon began to drift; the knowledge was useless to his own goals. Menchi noticed: though he wore a polite smile, his breathing was slow and steady—as if about to doze. Real Gourmet Hunters were tense lest they miss a single word from Linne.
Veins bulged on Menchi's forehead; her hand slid toward the knife at her back. Xiang Nan's disrespect angered her.
SPLASH!
Before she exploded, Linne suddenly hurled a kettle of boiling water at Xiang Nan. His drowsy look vanished; dull eyes flared bright, spirit snapping fully awake. He flickered aside—and the nearby Hunters likewise leapt away, stunned at Linne's outburst.
"Brat, dare to nod off while I'm teaching?!"
The once‑serene old lady sipped tea, narrowed her eyes, and scolded him, killing intent in her gaze.
"Caught me, huh…" Xiang Nan smiled calmly, surprised the seemingly cute granny had such a temper.
Though Xiang Nan dodged, nearby Hunters were scalded. He recalled that in the original records, Linne had explored the Dark Continent with Netero and Zigg as a big‑eyed girl. Perhaps he'd misremembered—she looked less like a "moe" girl and more like a "little pepper."
Xiang Nan had actually been lost in thought about the Pandora's Box Organization: Omokage had debuted there, drawing military attention. Unable to leave himself, Xiang Nan had Omokage train Garo and Sigma in Nen—but he worried the villain's nasty personality might rub off on them.
Some scorched Hunters glared at Xiang Nan. Menchi explained he was a brand‑new Hunter, no Gourmet credentials—so day‑dreaming was natural. The others relaxed but eyed him with disdain.
"Sorry, ma'am," Xiang Nan addressed Linne. "I know nothing of gourmet arts. I came because chances to meet you are rare—you seldom appear at the Association—and I hoped for guidance… not on cuisine, but on Nen training."
Nen training? Faces changed. Everyone thought of Linne as purely culinary, yet to be a two‑star Hunter she had to be formidable. Few in the Association knew she once explored the Dark Continent with Chairman Netero, and she never mentioned it.
"A student?" Menchi's eyes flashed. She had long hoped to study under Linne, but the elder had never taken pupils, not for lack of talent but lack of interest.
"Hmph," Menchi sniffed at Xiang Nan's audacity.
"You need me to teach you Nen?" Linne chuckled coldly, astonishing the room. She had noticed Xiang Nan's unusual skill: she'd thought her kettle throw would hit, but he evaded, unlike the others.
"Find Netero. Your level suits his guidance better than mine," she said.
Menchi's heart leapt—was Xiang Nan truly that strong?
"To be honest," Xiang Nan replied, "the Chairman declined for certain reasons, so I came to you. And after meeting him, I found we don't quite see eye‑to‑eye."
"Reasons? What reasons?" Linne asked.
"My former identity," Xiang Nan said.
Someone scoffed that the newbie was already bad‑mouthing the Chairman.
"If Netero won't mentor you, I certainly won't either… Though that old man is annoying sometimes. Your feelings aren't wrong," Linne said lightly.
All the Hunters held their breath. Only Linne dared call the Chairman by name and speak ill of him. Even Netero himself would likely let it slide.
Linne didn't probe Xiang Nan's background further. Knowing Netero, any refusal meant the boy's history was sensitive. As an elder of the Association, she shared that caution.
Xiang Nan sighed:
"So you and the Chairman are the same type. Sorry to trouble you."
He turned to leave—
—and a terrifying aura swept the room. The old woman rose from the tatami, glaring at his back.
"Brat, explain yourself! What do you mean, I'm the same type as that old coot?! Don't lump me with him!"
Menchi and the others went pale, instinctively leaping clear of her surging Nen.
Xiang Nan calmly turned, eyeing the storm of aura. He'd only spoken off‑hand, assuming Linne, like Netero, bowed to the V5's authority. Her fierce reaction surprised him.
Could it be…
Did Netero once have… something with this old lady—and let her down?
"You and the Chairman…" Xiang Nan ventured.
"BRAT, I'LL CUT YOU!" Linne seemed to sense his thoughts and erupted. A chef's knife flashed into her hand.
Xiang Nan's face changed; he unleashed Nen at once.
This granny—was serious!
What kind of personality was this? One of the Association's most Veteran Hunters—second only to Netero—yet she still had the temper of a child?!