"How... how did you know?"
The Captain stared at Ryker, stunned. The sky was still blue above them, but the boy spoke with the certainty of a weatherman reading a satellite map.
"The air pressure dropped suddenly," Ryker explained, his voice even. "There's a low-pressure cyclone forming in the distance, and the humidity just spiked. This won't just be rain. It's going to be a violent storm."
Gon sniffed the air, his expression tightening. "Ryker is never wrong about the weather! It really is coming, Captain!"
Almost as soon as the words left their mouths, the horizon changed. Dark, oppressive cumulonimbus clouds rolled in, devouring the sun. The sky turned a bruised purple, then black.
The storm hit with the force of a hammer.
But thanks to Ryker's warning, the Captain had battened down the hatches early. The old man was a beast of a sailor, steering the ship straight through the heart of the tempest.
By the time morning broke and the sea calmed, the ship was a floating hospital ward. Most of the Hunter applicants were sprawled across the decks, green-faced and unconscious.
Only a few remained standing.
"That wasn't a freak accident," Ryker murmured, scanning the now-placid waters. "This area is known for sudden squalls."
"Huh? What did you say, Ryker?" Gon asked, blinking.
Ryker didn't answer. He was looking at the only other two conscious passengers: Leorio and Kurapika.
Everyone else had effectively been eliminated.
Sure enough, the Captain inspected the cabins and then summoned the four of them to the bridge.
"Why do you want to become Hunters?" the Captain demanded.
At first, Kurapika refused to answer. But when the Captain revealed his true identity—an examiner for the Hunter Association—the group realized the test had already begun. The sea-sick masses below? Failed.
If they didn't answer, they would be next.
Kurapika relented. He was the last survivor of the Kurta Clan, seeking the license to hunt down the Phantom Troupe and avenge his people.
Gon wanted to find his father.
Leorio—shamelessly—admitted he was in it for the money. Big houses, fast cars, and the good life.
"And you, lad?" The Captain turned his gaze to Ryker. "What's your reason?"
Despite decades at sea, the Captain couldn't read this boy. Ryker stood with a calm maturity that belied his fifteen years. It felt less like the Captain was testing him, and more like Ryker was evaluating the Captain.
"Me? It's simple. I want to become stronger," Ryker said. "Only through absolute strength can you protect what you love and pursue what you desire."
"And what is it that you desire?"
"That wasn't part of the question, was it?"
"Hah! Fair enough!" The Captain roared with laughter. "Katzo, note down their answers and send them to the Committee. You four pass the preliminary round. Now get out of here!"
"Let's go, Gon."
"Coming, Ryker!"
Ryker stifled a yawn, hands in his pockets, ready to head back to the cabin.
"Wait."
A voice sharp as a whip stopped him.
Ryker and Gon turned around. Kurapika stood there, his eyes intense.
"I noticed you watching me when we boarded," Kurapika said, his voice low but dangerous. "You had... intent. Do you know something about the Phantom Troupe?"
Kurapika's obsession bordered on madness. The genocide of his clan was the fuel that kept him moving. He was hyper-sensitive to any gaze that felt calculating—and Ryker's gaze earlier had been exactly that.
"Intent?" Ryker blinked, then realized.
Ah. He must have sensed Ryker salivating over that [Red] trait earlier.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryker shrugged. "And even if I did, interrogation isn't the best way to make friends."
"Duel me."
Kurapika dropped into a fighting stance, his wooden practice swords ready.
"Defeat me, or let me defeat you. Either way, I need to know if you have information. I don't want to hurt you, but don't force my hand."
Ryker sighed. "Kid stuff. I'm not intere—"
[DING! Hostile Entity Detected: Kurapika. Entering Combat Mode.]
[Defeating target grants 10% chance to copy a random Trait.]
[Killing target grants 100% chance to plunder a random Trait.]
Ryker froze.
Combat Mode grants traits?
His eyes widened. In fifteen years on Whale Island, nobody had ever picked a fight with him. He had never known the System had a "Sparring" function.
Wait. If the drop rate is 10%... does that mean if he beats Kurapika ten times, he can farm the whole set?
"Fine," Ryker grinned, the boredom vanishing from his face. "As you wish. If you win, I'll tell you everything I know. But if you lose..."
"Ryker..." Gon tugged on his sleeve, whispering frantically. "Please... try not to kill him, okay? Be gentle!"
Leorio, watching from the side, nearly dropped his jaw. Be gentle? Is this kid a monster or something?
BOOM!
Thunder cracked overhead. The storm wasn't done yet. Another wave of rain lashed the deck, slicking the wood instantly.
Ryker and Kurapika stood opposite each other in the deluge.
"If you just tell me what you know, we don't have to do this," Kurapika warned. "You won't win."
Less talking, more dropping loot, Ryker thought. He didn't care about the Phantom Troupe. He cared about that 10%.
Thud.
Ryker moved.
The hard oak of the deck splintered under his foot. He launched himself forward like a cannonball, the rain exploding off his skin as he broke the sound barrier of the storm.
A simple straight punch. No technique, just raw speed.
But to Kurapika, it looked like teleportation.
"Too fast!!"
Kurapika's instincts screamed. He crossed his wooden blades in a desperate block.
CRACK!
The impact was cataclysmic. It didn't feel like a human fist; it felt like he had been hit by a runaway train.
The force shattered Kurapika's stance instantly, tearing the skin between his thumb and forefinger. He was lifted off his feet and hurled backward, smashing into the railing meters away.
Before he could even gasp for air, a shadow loomed over him.
Ryker stood there, two fingers pressed gently against Kurapika's jugular.
"You lose, Kurapika."
Ryker's voice was calm, barely elevated above a whisper.
Kurapika sat there, frozen, eyes wide with shock.
[You have defeated Kurapika.]
[Rolling for Trait Copy (10% Chance)...]
[Success!]