Facing an invitation from Chairman Netero of the Hunter Association, "Little girl, want to play a game with me?", Mols considered that Netero was a unique Boss who would be killed off in the plot years later. This boss battle was free of charge and wouldn't result in death, so getting some experience and trying it out was entirely worthwhile.
"..." Thus, Mols nodded.
"...Chairman." Beans, a permanent NPC and administrative staff member of the Hunter Association, couldn't help but press his forehead at his chairman's seemingly inappropriate remark.
Netero didn't miss Beans' sigh. He shot back a look of "I'm just being forthright" without any hint of remorse, to which Beans responded with his usual exasperated expression.
Perhaps to resolve (?) the Hunter Association's nth public relations crisis (?), Netero added, "Candidate No. 179, would you like to join? You two can go together."
"Thank you for your invitation, but no thank you, I'll pass." The goal of obtaining a Hunter License had been achieved. The opponent's strength level was far superior to hers, someone she would never want to provoke under normal circumstances. Shalnark was not a fighter and did not wish to increase his masochistic experiences of being thoroughly beaten.
It would be more interesting to watch others get beaten, and to gauge the strength of both sides. Not minding the commotion, Shalnark thought with a hint of schadenfreude.
Unfortunately, he didn't get his wish. Mols took out a pen and paper from her satchel, and wrote: I hope for a one-on-one fight, with no spectators.
Oh dear, no good show to watch. Throughout the entire Hunter Exam, Shalnark still didn't quite grasp the full strength of Candidate No. 26. However, he knew that the opponent might be a troublesome character. The "in-fighting among candidates" in the previous stage was just a brief test; she hadn't been insistent on killing.
Since there was no opportunity, Shalnark decided to return to his leisurely state and stroll around the Hunter Association's private airship to pass the time.
With stable business dealings in most countries worldwide and the ability to secure various cross-border privileges, the Hunter Association held a preeminent reputation and status among legitimate civilian organizations. The airships used by the association were different from ordinary passenger airships; they were dual-purpose military and civilian vessels. The airship was about 200 meters long, and the cabins were correspondingly extremely spacious, making it worth exploring.
Led by Netero, Mols arrived at the training ground within the airship, an empty room about half the size of a basketball court.
Closing the door, Mols put down her satchel, and using the satchel as a guise, she retrieved a dagger from her game inventory, cutting off her two pigtails. Her hair was just long enough to cover her neck.
"Oh? I knew I wasn't mistaken about you," Netero nodded in approval. "Very good, I like young people with drive."
Using the same guise, she "picked up" her glasses and the cut-off wig into her game inventory. Mols stood up, and Netero also finished preparing, taking off his wooden clogs and loose outer robe, dressed in a black tank top and capri pants suitable for exercise. Despite being an old man with white hair and beard, his body was not flabby, and his lean muscle tissue looked quite firm.
"Regarding the game rules." Seeing that Mols had immediately entered a combat state, Netero felt it even more necessary to establish game rules, not just for the cost of repairing the venue, but if the airship were damaged and casualties occurred, it would be a headache. "First, you cannot use 'Nen' to avoid damaging the venue."
No matter how a Nen user concealed themselves or disguised themselves as an ordinary person, it would be impossible to be completely seamless. The more experienced the Nen user, the more they could detect the difference.
It was perfectly normal for Netero to see through her use of "Nen." Mols nodded without surprise.
"Second, and the last rule." Netero smiled kindly, his eyes narrowed. "Attack me with the intention of killing me."
Netero didn't know that this statement was completely redundant to Mols. Having read the original work, Mols knew very well that Netero was a Boss character whom even Zeno couldn't kill. With her current skill level, even with the intent to kill Netero, she wouldn't be able to. Unless she carried a nuclear bomb on the level of "Poor Man's Rose" and perisheswith him, she wouldn't be able to kill him.
However, it was good. With such a grand invitation from Netero, Mols could be more unrestrained and challenge the Hunter Association's greatest Boss, Netero, to her heart's content.
[Special Mission]
[Mission Name: This Chairman is Truly Amazing]
[Mission Content: A battle invitation from Netero, Chairman of the Hunter Association]
"..." No need for the mission name to remind her, Mols knew the result would be failure.
Not feeling any emotions, she would be able to enjoy the process more calmly this time, treating it as a good opportunity for exercise and fitness. After all, her opponent was the strongest human, and it was an honor to fight him, Mols thought.
Lowering her center of gravity and channeling power into the soles of her feet, like a fired cannonball, wrapped in a powerful gale, Mols lunged at Netero.
Facing a spirited junior, it was both guidance as a senior and respect as an opponent. Between evading and defending, Netero chose to defend.
A perfectly executed defense, where the point of force and the direction of force were precisely controlled, not only canceled out the attack but could also influence the opponent's next movement trend.
Just as simpler dishes test a chef's skill, simpler movements reveal a martial artist's foundation.
As if from a textbook, no, Netero's martial arts realm had reached the closest point to divinity among humans. Back then, a single punch from him made the martial arts hall master weep with admiration, and no one objected.
Only after experiencing it firsthand did Mols truly understand that Zeno's statement in the original work about being unilaterally suppressed by Netero was not an act of humility.
"Mind's Eye" (心滴拳听): in this world, at the moment top experts clash, time feels like it infinitely slows down, and one can hear the other's thoughts. This phenomenon occurred when Nefeltarphito fought Netero in the original work.
The gap in realms was too great, Mols couldn't perceive this wondrous phenomenon. She could only try her best to adjust her next move, which had been deviated by Netero's defense.
The advantage of a woman's body lies in its lightness and flexibility. Twisting her waist, Mols changed her attack mid-action, sweeping her leg towards Netero's lower ribs.
Raising her knee, Netero struck Mols' abdomen a step faster. Mols flew straight out and stabilized herself at the junction of the wall and ceiling, her claw-like fingers digging into the wall, gripping it tightly.
A decent stagger. When attacked, to reduce the impact on oneself, one uses inertia to move away from the opponent, avoid falling, and simultaneously change a disadvantageous position.
Stroking his beard, Netero found the scene before him somewhat familiar.
Netero, who pursued the ultimate of martial arts his entire life, had seen every famous school. For this, he even ventured into the Dark Continent, which V5 had listed as forbidden. Unfortunately, the "power" required there was not the kind he sought.
Oh, those blue eyes filled with killing intent, the pupils standing upright like a beast's, coupled with the previous exchange, were enough for Netero to transform a vague impression into a ninety percent certainty.
Genetics are a wondrous thing. Life's characteristics are passed down through heredity. Sometimes, Netero looked at his son, with the exact same temper and personality, as if seeing his younger self.
And this candidate No. 26 reminded Netero of the Zoldyck boy – who was now the head of the Zoldyck family, Silva.
Speaking of which, Netero's friendship with the Zoldycks traced back to Mols' great-grandfather's generation. He had lived too long, far beyond a century. Mols' grandfather, Zeno, was considered a grandchild to Netero.
Silva's personality was not fun to deal with. Netero had little interaction with him, whether in public business or private dealings, and he still interacted more with Zeno.
It was from Zeno that Netero learned about some of the Zoldyck children.
As the saying goes, "A child who makes noise gets candy." The one Zeno mentioned most often was the granddaughter who gave the entire Zoldyck family a headache – fragile yet stubborn, her whole family doted on her, afraid that something would happen to her easily.
There was no need to worry about her becoming spoiled. From birth, she had been extremely world-weary.
"You know how imposing Silva is, that he can even scare babies quiet. How would he know how to coax a little girl?" Zeno sighed. "I can tell she always avoids Silva intentionally or unintentionally. It's hilarious."
(Silva: ?! What does 'hilarious' mean?)
"A girl's mind is hard to understand." Netero, whose pursuit of the ultimate martial arts was his life's priority and whose son was an accident, had never seriously dated, nodded sagely. "The mission difficulty rating should be A."
Retracting his previous mention of "spoiled," the next time Zeno mentioned his granddaughter, he talked about how she kicked his beloved 'Flowing Dragon' (referring to a dragon carving by a master craftsman coiled around a rock in the center of the pond) and broke it.
Netero: Hilarious.
"Silva was too young; it's understandable that there were oversights in his education. Fortunately, she was still young, and I sternly educated her not to destroy public property casually." Zeno said, his heart still lingering with fear. "This little one even wanted to defy me and pat my head!"
"Oh—" In response to this complaint, which was clearly not a complaint, Netero gave a perfunctory acknowledgment out of curiosity about what would follow.
The topic ended there.
Before leaving, Netero asked if she had eventually patted his head.
"Fifty-fifty, perhaps." Zeno smiled mysteriously.
"..." For the first time, Netero couldn't grasp the meaning at all and couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to be a grandfather.
Thinking about his son's personality, Netero felt he would likely not have the chance to be a grandfather.
On that note, was patting someone's head that fun?
Before that, there was another important point: Netero didn't even know what Zeno's granddaughter looked like. Thinking about Silva's upright face, it would be a bit hard to describe if applied to a little girl, so it was better not to imagine it too closely.
Zeno had already left. He would discuss this matter the next time they met.
"Photos of Zoldyck family members are strictly not to be leaked." Zeno's attitude was firm as he placed his hand on the table. "For the sake of old friends, I can only show you once, just once."
"..." Netero silently looked at the photos under Zeno's palm, clearly more than one.
Who brings so many photos reluctantly? Doesn't this mean you really want to show them to me?! Netero thought to himself.
When Zeno flipped the photos to the front, his expression was like that of a gambler revealing their final good cards, fully satisfied.
Please, if the anticipation is built up too high, what should I say if he asks if I think his granddaughter is cute? Netero wondered.
The photos finally turned over. As expected, she had the characteristic silver-white hair of the Zoldyck lineage, soft and fluffy. The little girl's cheeks were puffed up, holding a fork in her hand, eating a pancake.
The pancake in the photo looked delicious. This was Netero's first thought.
Oh no, his attention was completely drawn by the pancake.
The photos had already changed to the next one. The little girl was holding a donut and eating it, looking at the remaining donuts on the plate.
A total of four photos, they were viewed quickly. Netero spoke first, "Why are all of them of you eating?"
"She was usually in a good mood at that time."
"What about when she was in a bad mood?"
"She wouldn't talk to anyone, wouldn't eat or drink." Zeno said emotionlessly. "She's been very reclusive since she was little, so we can't just let her go out casually."
So... the plot has been omitted too much. How did that little girl end up with a fake identity and come to take the Hunter License alone?
She was still quite reclusive. Candidate No. 26 remained silent throughout the entire exam. Apart from necessary actions, she stood in place and spaced out.
Was she here due to a family directive?
The next wave of attacks was coming. It was evident that Candidate No. 26 had received long-term training. Those years of time were etched into her body, turning into reflexes that required no conscious thought, like a machine.
This child seems to be the type who works hard silently, a bit笨拙.
Then, let's disrupt her rhythm.
Netero's speed suddenly increased, like accidentally opening a high-difficulty level in a rhythm game in the "real world." The constantly missed old notes and the continuously emerging new notes left Mols dazzled.
According to the education instilled by the Zoldycks, when facing an unmanageable crisis, Mols immediately retreated, creating distance from the opponent.
Too naive.
What level of character was Netero? When the character level gap reached a certain extent, the distance between them became meaningless.
Before Mols' retreat was finished, Netero had already circled behind her and struck her back with his palm.
"!" Entirely by reflex, Mols used "Nen" to defend.
She had broken the first rule of the game. After stabilizing herself, she had no other action, her hands hanging by her sides, quietly looking at Netero, awaiting his statement.
"The previous action doesn't count. Quick reaction in an emergency should be praised," Netero waved his hand dismissively. "As I said at the beginning, not using 'Nen' was to avoid damaging the venue—that's the real purpose of Rule One."
"..." Mols nodded.
This child was very obedient to the game rules, not only Rule One but also Rule Two without question. She truly attacked with one hundred percent killing intent. Netero was certain that if given the chance, she would not hesitate to deliver a fatal blow to the kind, amiable, and helpless old grandfather (referring to Netero).
Mols reshaped "aura" between the fingers of her two hands, forming the text: As long as the venue is not damaged, "Nen" can be used?
As an experienced Nen user, Netero immediately used "Gyo" without needing to be reminded and saw this line of text.
"You could say that," Netero confirmed.
Mols changed the text again: Can I use weapons then?
"No." Netero refused. "Don't rely on weapons. I can see that you usually rely more on your body's mobility. Your Nen ability is likely an auxiliary type, and to increase lethality, you need weapons. Here, there's no need for that, and you know it, right? The important thing in this match is the process, not the result."
"You're still far from giving your all." Spreading his palms upwards, Netero bent his joined fingers slightly and raised the corners of his mouth in a slightly provocative manner. "Again. Let me see your limit."
............
........
...
[Challenge Failed]
Maintaining the "Ren" state for high-intensity offense and defense was a huge drain on both body and mind. Exhausted, Mols collapsed onto the floor like a puddle of mud.
Every muscle in her body ached. Her clothes were soaked. Sweat clung to her bangs and then slid to the corners of her eyes, stinging them.
Although she couldn't feel emotions, Mols reached into her satchel for a bottle of mineral water. As she poured it on her face, the coolness brought a physical pleasure.
As the doctor said, emotions still exist; they remain within the body.
The physical pleasure, the "physiological pleasure," allows the body to secrete dopamine, which represents happiness, without detailed analysis by the brain.
There are similar examples in the "real world." It is said that the dopamine secreted during fitness exercises is second only to that during romantic relationships.
The current situation was similar to after exercising.
"Alas, already exhausted?" Netero strolled over leisurely and sat down cross-legged beside Mols. "You attacked too quickly, so your stamina naturally depleted faster."
"..." Mols covered her face with a towel she had just taken out.
"But you did very well." Netero lifted the towel from Mols' face and gave her a thumbs-up. "Very spirited."
"..." What kind of subtle evaluation was this?
Mols took another towel from her satchel and placed it over her face.
This must be that reclusive Zoldyck child, Netero thought, unceremoniously wiping sweat with the towel in his hand. The towel was of excellent quality, soft and absorbent. As expected of a Zoldyck child, using only high-end items.
The reclusive child lay quietly with a white towel covering her face, her breathing so faint it was almost imperceptible. If an outsider saw her, they might think she was a corpse.
If left alone, would she maintain this state until they reached their destination?
That would be too boring.
"Candidate Mols Zanji." Netero chose to initiate conversation. "Although I asked why you want to become a Hunter, I still don't know what kind of Hunter you want to be. A Gourmet Hunter?"
"..." The white towel swayed left and right, a sign of shaking her head.
Oh, that's good. She's still responding. Her condition is still okay.
"Not considering becoming a Gourmet Hunter? I can introduce you to reliable seniors," Netero said. "I am, after all, the Chairman of the Hunter Association, and I have extensive connections."
"..." It felt very untrustworthy (referring to reliable seniors).
The top Hunters were mostly eccentric individuals, and Netero was notoriously fond of assigning difficult tasks, often giving people nearly impossible missions.
Mols disliked troublesome things. The "real world" was already tiring enough.
To show respect for the Chairman of the Hunter Association, Mols removed the towel, sat up, and wrote with a pen and paper: I have no talent for cooking.
A good chef needs a keen sense of taste to distinguish the nuances of ingredients and seasonings, allowing for precise adjustments to achieve perfect balance in their dishes.
Mols, however, was not particularly picky about food. Some foods she disliked were simply a matter of personal preference, not necessarily because the food tasted bad.
Without a high pursuit of cuisine, it would be impossible to become an excellent Gourmet Hunter. Mols was merely an ordinary diner.
An ordinary diner, when hungry, casually took out a rice ball from her satchel.
To reiterate, the satchel was a guise. This rice ball was actually taken from her "game inventory."
She gently tore open the packaging.
Under the pressure of the Hunter Association Chairman's gaze, and out of respect for him, Mols paused, took out another rice ball, and offered it to the Chairman.
"Thank you." The Chairman accepted without any hesitation, tearing open the packaging.
Both of them opened their mouths and bit into the rice ball. It was soft but not sticky, sweet but not cloying, and the fruity aroma filled their mouths, gently enveloping their tongues as if melting away.
Delicious! x2
To better savor the deliciousness of the food, both of them closed their eyes.
After the rice balls were gone, Mols unfolded the wrapper of her rice ball and began licking the residual powdered sugar.
Netero watched her, and she looked back at him. They met each other's gaze.
"..." x2
Maintaining her gaze on Netero, Mols continued to lick the wrapper in her hand.
Netero seemed to understand her meaning. Following her example, he also licked the powdered sugar off his wrapper and showed it to her, "Is this okay?"
"..." She nodded seriously.
Then, she took another rice ball from her satchel. It seemed that licking the wrapper wasn't because it was the last one and she needed to savor it.
As expected of the child who gave the entire Zoldyck family a headache, truly hard to understand.
Upon meeting her in person, Netero suddenly understood what he had missed in the static photos provided by Zeno. Static images lost too many details from dynamic ones. Of course, the short time also contributed to him not being able to see clearly, but he had confirmed that the little girl in the photos was very cute. He acknowledged Zeno's desire to show off.
Netero at the time: Damn it, I've been shown off to.
Netero now: I understand. She eats so deliciously.
No wonder his attention was stolen by the pancake when he looked at the first photo.
She might not be able to become an excellent Gourmet Hunter, but she could be a very good diner.
She cherishes food and enjoys it. The atmosphere of enjoyment emanated from her as she ate, making the food seem even more delicious.
If she were placed nearby, would the food become tastier? Could this be her Nen ability? (No)
Before reaching their destination, there was enough time to bathe. After changing into new clothes and a wig, Mols spent the remaining time spacing out.
Upon receiving the Hunter License at the destination and after Beans' related explanation, as they parted ways, Shalnark took the initiative to ask for Mols' contact information.
"Only the two of us passed this year. We are rare batchmates, so it's quite fated. If you don't mind, let's be friends." The blond, baby-faced young man smiled radiantly, showing no sign of being a cold-blooded Phantom Troupe member. "My name is Shalnark. This is my phone number."
"..." Using her clothes pocket as a guise, Mols took out her phone from her game inventory and dialed the number displayed on his phone screen.
By the way, besides this phone, Mols had 19 private phones and different phone numbers.
When the phone rang, Mols hung up. Shalnark then saved the incoming call number to his phone. "I still don't know your name."
Mols typed on her phone, leaving the words "Mols Zanji" on the screen.
"Eh?" Shalnark froze for a moment, then realized these words were the answer to his question. He chuckled, "Pfft," shaking his shoulders violently, and saved the contact name with incredible speed. "Haha... Hahaha... Sorry, haha... Excuse me."
After saving, he put away his phone, his laughter not as exaggerated as before, his hands covering his stomach as if it ached from laughing.
"Well, Zanji... pfft..." Shalnark patted his chest forcefully, trying to compose himself. "Ahem, that surname is really special."
"..." Even if it's special, do you need to laugh like that? The surname of the Kakin Kingdom royal family in this world is "Hui Guo Rou" (Leftovers). Is the surname "Zanji" really that strange?
"It's really strange." Shalnark tried to appear serious. "Well, whether it's 'Miss Mols' or 'Miss Zanji,' they both have a kind of... mascot specialty... feel?"
"..." Well, that's truly sorry.
"See you later." Shalnark thought for a moment and waved goodbye. "My dear fellow rookie."
"..."
Turning around, Shalnark: Hilarious, I have to share today's fun immediately.
His fingers danced rapidly on the phone keypad: Met an interesting fellow, named "Mols Zanji" hahaha
Uvogin: Zanji? What kind of sauce?
Phinks: Hahahahahahahahahaha Is there more?
Feitan: This kind of lame joke should be sent to Phinks.
Chrollo: ? Is it a real name?
Nobunaga: That's it? Making a fuss over nothing.
Fake name, Shalnark considered the possibility, but conversely, why would someone use such a unique name as a fake name?
Since he had already obtained the Hunter License, and was idle, Shalnark decided to find a computer and do some online investigation to satisfy his curiosity.