41- The 287th Hunter Exam was moments from its end

The air on Cygnus Peak sliced like a blade. At nearly two thousand meters, the wind howled, carrying stray snowflakes that stung the skin. The summit platform, a vast rocky plateau battered by the elements, was lit by the blinding beams of a massive military cargo airship. Its engines idled with a deep rumble, blending with the wind's shriek.

The lowered access ramp cast a rectangle of warm light onto the stone.

Rippo stood in that glow, arms crossed behind his back, his gaze scanning the slopes.

The giant timer projected on the hull blinked: 00:54:22. Barely five minutes into the deadline.

"Seven days for a trial… Bit drawn out, don't you think, Rippo?"

A calm voice, laced with natural authority.

Isaac Netero, President of the Hunter Association, stood beside him. Dressed in his simple white tunic, he stroked his snowy beard thoughtfully. His twinkling eyes surveyed the same horizon as Rippo.

Rippo straightened. "The trial was designed to test their resilience after seven grueling days! Managing time stress, hostile terrain, while conserving enough energy for this final sprint… it's the ultimate test for a budding Hunter!"

"Hmm, resilience, sure," Netero conceded, his gaze still lost in the dark. "But the length… It might leave us with few chosen ones. How many are eligible?"

Rippo puffed up slightly. "Twenty-three candidates hit 1000 points by the end of the hunt, President. The final scan locked their scores before the starting signal. Out of 109 initial entrants."

"Twenty-three…" Netero seemed to calculate mentally. "If fewer than ten cross this ramp in the hour… the exam stops here for lack of worthy license holders. Or," he added with a touch of boredom, "I'll have to scramble for a fourth trial on the fly. Which I loathe above all. I hope your results justify the wait, Rippo."

Suddenly, a trembling shape emerged from the darkness on the north slope. No longer a candidate, but the shadow of a man. He crawled, dragging a lifeless leg, his clothes in tatters, crusted with dried blood and frozen mud. A hoarse rasp escaped his throat with each desperate pull. He reached the edge of the light, raising a skeletal arm where his watch faintly blinked: 1010.

His glassy eyes locked on Rippo, filled with heartbreaking hope.

"Ineligible," Rippo declared in a neutral tone, checking the locked score.

Shock twisted the man's ravaged face. "Wh… but…" he whispered. Then his body stiffened abruptly. One last breath, a gasp, and he collapsed, still. The strain, absolute exhaustion, and Rippo's words had finished him.

Two Association assistants approached, confirming death before they could even carry him aboard.

Minutes later, two figures emerged on the west slope.

Hisoka and Illumi. No trace of fatigue, not a single scratch. Hisoka wore his sated feline smile, yellow eyes glinting in the harsh light. Illumi, impassive, his large black eyes empty. They walked in step, unhurried, like on a casual stroll. Their watches displayed the same stark number: 1000. Exactly the threshold. They ascended the ramp without a glance, vanishing into the cargo hold's shadow.

Almost immediately, another figure bounded onto the plateau. Hanzo, slightly winded but unscathed, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. His watch blinked: 1000. He gave Netero and Rippo a curt nod before boarding.

The timer read: 00:42:15.

The lull was brief. Three candidates stormed in from the south slope, panting but clearly fit. One brandished his watch arrogantly: 1250! Another showed 1080, the third 1150. Scores well above the threshold.

"Come on, let us through!" boomed the first, a scarred giant. "We've got way more than enough points!"

Rippo shook his head, unmoved. "Ineligible."

"WHAT?!" the giant roared, face reddening. "What's this nonsense? I've got 1250! That's more than 1000!"

"The trial stated 'Obtain 1000 points,'" Rippo said, calm but firm. "Not 'Obtain 1000 points or more.' Your excess score is disqualifying. You've failed."

"That's bullshit!" the 1080-point candidate shouted. "I fought like hell for this! You can't just—!"

"We can," Netero cut in, his quiet voice slicing like a knife. "Gentlemen, your reaction right now is the clearest proof Rippo is right." His eyes swept over the furious trio. "You're ineligible. End of story. Try again next year."

Under Netero's chilling stare and the authority radiating from him, their protests died in their throats. They backed off. Association assistants silently escorted them to a corner of the plateau, away from the ramp. Humiliation and anger etched their faces.

The timer ticked down relentlessly: 00:15:33.

Rippo glanced at Netero. Only three eligible candidates were aboard (Hisoka, Illumi, Hanzo). Twenty were still missing.

Netero, though, was watching the northwest slope with sudden interest. A faint smile curled his lips beneath his beard.

"Oh, some last-minute arrivals?"

All eyes, drawn by the President's comment, turned that way. The airship's floodlights swept the slope.

Four figures barreled down the final rocky ridge toward the plateau.

Killua, Gon, Leorio, and Kurapika, bringing up the rear.

On each wrist, 1000 points glowed with quiet intensity.

They reached the rocky plateau, slowing before the ramp.

The timer read: 00:13:48.

A sudden hush fell over Cygnus Peak.

Hisoka, in the cargo hold's shadow, let out a stifled chuckle, his yellow eyes gleaming with heightened interest. Illumi beside him remained stone-faced. Hanzo watched with open curiosity.

Rippo quickly checked their watches, confirmation flashing on his own device. "Eligible."

As they crossed the ramp's threshold—Kurapika casting a final sweeping glance, Leorio flashing a tired but radiant victory sign to no one in particular, and Gon bouncing with excitement—Rippo turned to Netero, deep satisfaction on his face.

Netero watched the quartet disappear into the airship's belly. The smile that had touched his lips widened, warm and approving.

"Long, your trial. Too long, even," he admitted. "But effective. Very effective." He gazed at the ramp, shaking his head slowly, impressed. "No need for a fourth trial. The results are more than satisfactory. Well done, Examiner. You've sifted the wheat from the chaff."

The timer read: 00:05:06.

The engines' rumble surged suddenly, drowning out the wind's howl. The ramp began to rise slightly.

The 287th Hunter Exam was moments from its end.

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