The Second Phase took place in the Visca Forest Reserve, a lush expanse that felt almost peaceful compared to the death-trap of the wetlands. But the tension hadn't dissipated; it had merely shifted from the threat of predators to the whims of two Gourmet Hunters.
"I am Menchi, and this is Buhara!" the woman announced, her arms crossed. "The Second Phase is simple. We're hungry. You're going to cook for us."
A wave of groans and confused whispers rippled through the remaining examinees. "Cooking? We're here to be Hunters, not chefs!" someone shouted.
Menchi's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. "Hunters are the ultimate seekers of the unknown, whether it's a treasure, a beast, or a flavor. If you can't satisfy our palates, you're out."
Buhara's stomach let out a roar that sounded like a tectonic shift. "I want pork!" he boomed. "Specifically, the Great Stamp—the world's most dangerous pigs."
The gates swung open, and the crowd surged into the forest.
The Precision of the Hunt
While the other examinees scrambled through the brush, Leorio walked with a steady, purposeful gait. Gon and Kurapika were at his side, looking for any sign of the beasts.
"Great Stamp pigs," Kurapika mused. "I've heard of them. They're massive and extremely aggressive. Their tusks can shred steel."
"There!" Gon pointed.
A pack of Great Stamps emerged from the thicket. They were the size of small trucks, with noses that looked like armored shields and tusks that curved upward like scythes. As soon as they spotted the humans, they lowered their heads and charged.
"Watch out!" Gon yelled, jumping onto a high branch.
The other examinees were in a panic, trying to strike the pigs from the side or the back, but the animals were surprisingly agile, their thick hides deflecting blades and bullets alike.
Leorio didn't move. He stood directly in the path of the lead pig.
Internal Monologue: Anatomy is universal. No matter how much a creature evolves for defense, it still needs a central nervous system to function. That armored nose isn't just a weapon; it's a shield for the only weak point on its skull.
The Great Stamp was inches away, its hot breath smelling of fermented fruit. At the last possible second, Leorio didn't dodge. He used a Total Concentration Inhale, stepped slightly to the left, and delivered a sharp, two-fingered strike—infused with a tiny spark of Ko—directly to the center of the pig's forehead, just behind the armored plate.
The massive beast didn't even squeal. Its nervous system shut down instantly, its momentum carrying it into a slide that stopped right at Leorio's feet. Dead before it hit the ground.
"The forehead?" Gon asked, dropping down. "How did you know?"
"Basic cranial structure," Leorio said, pulling out his katana to begin the field dressing. "Their hides are thick everywhere else, but the bone is thinnest right there to allow for the olfactory nerves. It's a literal kill-switch."
While the others struggled to kill even one, Leorio had already finished cleaning his. He used his surgical knowledge to cut the choice loin and belly sections, discarding the tougher gristle. He knew that for someone like Buhara, quantity mattered, but for Menchi, it would be about the quality of the preparation.
The scene back at the exam site was a disaster. Buhara was happy, devouring hundreds of whole-roasted pigs, but Menchi was disgusted.
"Gross! Burnt! Overcooked! No seasoning!" she screamed, flipping table after table. One by one, the applicants were being failed.
When Leorio stepped up, he presented a platter of perfectly seared pork medallions, seasoned with wild herbs he'd gathered during the hunt and glazed with a reduction of forest berries. It looked like something from a five-star restaurant in Yorknew City.
Menchi took a bite. Her eyes widened for a split second. The flavor was perfect—the fat had been rendered with clinical precision, and the herbs complemented the gamey richness of the meat.
"The technique is flawless," Menchi muttered. "You knew exactly how to handle the temperature to avoid toughening the muscle fibers."
She looked up at Leorio, then at the other examinees who were laughing and making fun of the "cooking test." Her face hardened.
"But your attitude is just like the rest of them!" she snapped. "You did this because it was a task, not because you respect the ingredient! Everyone fails! This year's exam is over!"
A riot nearly broke out. The examinees were furious, and even the Satotz looked concerned. But then, a massive pressure descended on the park—a presence so vast it felt like the sky itself was leaning down.
A giant airship bearing the Symbol of the Hunter Association appeared overhead, and a figure leaped from the deck, falling hundreds of feet and landing without a sound.
Isaac Netero.
The Chairman of the Hunter Association looked like a harmless old man in a kimono, but Leorio's En felt the truth. Netero's aura was like a calm ocean—impossibly deep and utterly terrifying.
After a brief scolding from the Chairman, Menchi agreed to a redo. The test was changed to "Spider Eagle Eggs," involving a leap into a deep ravine to catch eggs suspended by webs.
Leorio handled it with the same calm efficiency, his Water Breathing allowing him to move through the air with a grace that defied his large frame. He caught the egg, felt the rush of the wind, and enjoyed the simple pleasure of a perfectly boiled egg.
"Now that," Leorio said, taking a bite of the rich, creamy yolk, "is a good meal."
The First and Second Phases were officially over. After catching and eating the spider's egg, then the remaining applicants boarded the Association's massive airship to be transported to the site of the Third Phase.
Inside the luxurious lounge, the atmosphere was a mix of relief and exhaustion. Gon and Killua were already off exploring the ship, their boundless energy making them look like normal kids for once. Kurapika was resting in a corner, his eyes closed.
Leorio stood by the window, watching the clouds pass by in the moonlight. He was leaning on his suitcase, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana.
"You're a very difficult man to read, Number 403."
Leorio turned to see Netero standing a few feet away. The old man was bouncing a small ball in his hand, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous, yet sharp intelligence.
"I'm just a doctor, Chairman," Leorio said, bowing slightly. "There's not much to read."
"A doctor who dismantled a strong nen master in the middle of a swamp?" Netero chuckled. "Hisoka is a difficult man to rattle. And yet, he looks at you as if he's found a new level where he should reach."
Leorio didn't flinch. "He was disrupting the flow of the exam. As a medical professional, I felt it was my duty to stabilize the environment."
Netero laughed, a high, wheezing sound. "Stabilize! I like that. You speak like a man who has lived much longer than nineteen years, Leorio Paradinight. Your aura is disciplined, but your spirit... your spirit feels like it belongs to someone who has already seen the end of the world."
Internal Monologue: He's probing. He can't see my 'Gate' ability, but he can sense the maturity of my soul. I have to be careful not to reveal too much. Netero loves a challenge, and if he thinks I'm a threat, he might try to 'play' with me.
"The world is a big place, Chairman," Leorio replied. "I'm just trying to make sure I'm strong enough to help the people who get lost in it."
Netero stopped bouncing the ball. "Helping people. A noble goal. But tell me... if you had to choose between saving the world and saving the two boys you've befriended... which would you choose?"
Leorio didn't hesitate. He remembered the old woman's quiz. He remembered the "Choice of Two."
"I'd save the boys," Leorio said firmly. "Because if I can't save the people standing right in front of me, I have no business trying to save a world I haven't even seen yet. Besides, the world is perfectly capable of saving itself. It's the individuals who need a doctor."
Netero's smile widened. "A selfishly selfless answer. Very much like a Hunter."
He tossed the ball to Leorio. Leorio caught it with one hand, the impact making a faint thud against his palm.
"If you're bored later, come find me in the gym," Netero said, turning to walk away. "I'm looking for some 'volunteers' for a little game. I think you might find it... educational."
Hours later, the ship was silent. Most of the applicants were asleep, but Leorio walked down to the gym. He found Gon and Killua already there, dripping with sweat, desperately trying to take the ball away from Netero.
The old man was moving like a blur, using only one leg and one arm, toyed with the two boys as if they were kittens.
"Leorio!" Gon shouted, his face bright red from exertion. "Help us! The Chairman is too fast!"
Leorio took off his coat and laid it neatly on a bench. He adjusted his top-knot and stepped onto the mats.
"Mind if I join the consultation?" Leorio asked.
"By all means!" Netero beamed. "The more, the merrier!"
Killua backed off, his eyes narrowing. "Be careful, Leorio. He's not human. I've been trying to use my heart-removal technique, and I can't even get close."
Leorio took a deep breath. Total Concentration Constant.
Internal Monologue: I don't need to win. I just need to see his rhythm. If I can use 'En' and 'Gyo' to map Netero's movements, it'll be the greatest lesson I've ever had.
"Go, Gon! Killua!" Leorio commanded.
The three of them coordinated. Gon went for the legs, Killua used his speed to circle around the back, and Leorio took the center.
Leorio used Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance. He didn't try to grab the ball; he tried to predict where Netero's elbow would be. He moved with a heavy, fluid grace that complemented the boys' agility.
For a few minutes, the gym was a whirlwind of motion. Netero was impressed. The way Leorio moved wasn't just physical; it was an anatomical anticipation. He was moving to where Netero's muscles were about to fire.
"Ho ho!" Netero laughed, spinning the ball on his finger. "You really do see the world through a different lens, Number 405!"
Suddenly, Netero increased his speed. To Gon and Killua, he became a blur. To Leorio, he became a series of high-frequency vibrations.
Leorio lunged, his fingers grazing the leather of the ball. Netero pulled it back at the last millisecond.
"Close!" Netero said.
The game lasted for hours. Eventually, Gon and Killua collapsed from exhaustion, both of them asleep on the floor. Leorio was leaning against a wall, his chest heaving, his shirt soaked with sweat. He hadn't used his 4.0x multiplier—he didn't want to show that card to Netero yet—but he had pushed his base "Water Breathing" to its absolute limit.
"You've got a lot of potential, Leorio," Netero said, not a single drop of sweat on his brow. "Most people your age are focused on their own power. You're focused on the space between the power. That's a master's mindset."
"I'm just a doctor, Chairman," Leorio repeated, though he couldn't help but smile. "And even doctors need to exercise."
"Indeed. Rest up. Tomorrow is Trick Tower. You'll need your wits as much as your muscles."
As Netero left, Leorio looked at the sleeping boys. He felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in his previous life. He was 19. He was strong. And for the first time, he felt like he had the power to protect the things that mattered.
He closed his eyes, and in the silence of the gym, the System whispered to him.
[NEN RESERVES REPLENISHING... 65%...]
[TIME UNTIL NEXT WORLD JUMP: 21 DAYS.]
"Trick Tower," Leorio muttered. "Time to see how a neurosurgeon handles a maze."