A blonde, green-eyed young man sat alone in a small kayak, watching the chaos around him unfold with an emotionless gaze.
Jon observed him from a distance. "This is bad. This exam might already be doomed."
Among the Phantom Troupe, only one member had a Hunter License—Shalnark. (Hisoka would join later.) Jon hadn't expected him to show up this year. It seemed he had arrived a few years ahead of the canon timeline.
The newcomer was indeed Shalnark—the manipulator-type Nen user of the Phantom Troupe. Though classified as an auxiliary member due to his role in intel gathering and tactical analysis, his combat ability was anything but weak.
If he was willing to stab himself with his own Nen antenna, he could temporarily gain strength rivaling monsters like Uvogin and Nobunaga. That boost came with a price—but in a fight to the death, Shalnark was terrifying.
Shalnark seemed to notice Jon's lingering stare. He turned casually toward him. "Huh? Someone's watching me."
He spotted a kid radiating a massive, chaotic energy. The pressure was there—but the control wasn't. To Shalnark, it didn't feel like Nen.
Just a strong kid, he thought, before shrugging and looking away.
Jon exhaled deeply. Thank god. Being on the Phantom Troupe's radar is the last thing I need.
Then, Shalnark pulled out a cartoonish, toy-like cell phone—his Nen ability, Black Voice.
Standing calmly in the boat, his hand twitched slightly. A thin silver streak shot from his fingers and vanished into the sea.
An antenna, Jon realized. Classic Shalnark.
Seconds later, a massive two-meter-long shark surfaced beside the kayak. Shalnark leaped onto its back with ease, riding it like a trained mount.
"Whoa! That guy just tamed a shark!" someone exclaimed.
"How the hell did he do that?"
Nearby examinees muttered in disbelief.
Several had already begun firing their weapons—but they were useless. Most of them had cheap hunting rifles or imitation guns—nothing that could pierce Shalnark's body, even without defensive Nen techniques.
Jon watched in silence. So this is the power of a Nen user... I really need to learn Nen as soon as this exam is over.( ̿▀̿Ĺ̯̿▀̿ ̿)
He squinted at the shark. "Are these people blind? Don't they see the antenna sticking out of its head?"
Then it hit him. Wait. Of course they don't. They can't see Nen. Just like how normal people can't see Stands.
He slapped himself lightly. Why am I bothering with subtlety? I should just sabotage their weapons directly. What have I been doing?!
Between Ripple energy and [Stone Free], Jon realized he could easily mimic a manipulator-type Nen user himself.
Without hesitation, Jon bit into his palm, letting blood drip into the sea. Seconds later, dark shapes began to converge beneath him.
Jon didn't dare to reach directly into the water—Ripple techniques needed skin contact to control living creatures. So, he summoned [Stone Free]. Threads unspooled and shot forward, wrapping tightly around several sharks like puppeteer strings.
With [Stone Free] guarding his back, even gunfire couldn't reach him. Bullets whizzed past, bouncing harmlessly off the threads. Jon sprinted forward, weaving through the battlefield unharmed.
Eventually, he reached an island—one of the designated rest points. There was food and lodging prepared for examinees.
Just as Jon stepped onto the beach, he heard the loud chop of rotor blades overhead. A helicopter hovered in the sky—and several figures jumped out, parachuting smoothly to the ground.
"What the—?! I've been risking life and limb out here fighting for survival against a hundred lunatics… and there was a DIRECT FLIGHT?!"
He scanned the field. Other than Tonpa and Shalnark, there wasn't a single familiar face among the participants.
Jon clenched his fists, trembling with silent rage. I hate this exam.
"JoJo! I didn't expect you to make it this far. I'm really sorry about earlier, brother. You know how it is—just doing what I had to do. Here, have a drink to cool off." Tonpa's face was thick with feigned remorse as he held out an unopened can of orange juice.
Jon's expression darkened the moment he saw Tonpa's greasy smile.
You two-faced bastard, Jon thought. We agreed to have each other's backs, and you were the first one ready to sell me out. That smile disgusts me.
Jon didn't believe in turning the other cheek. Ever since he started calling himself Joseph, he lived by one rule: anyone who tries to trick Joseph Joestar must suffer. Kars got a one-way ticket to space, Empress exploded, and even Caesar's harmless prank couldn't save him from fate. The universe was cruel to those who crossed a Joestar.
So when Tonpa handed him the can, Jon smiled politely and declined. "No thanks. I'm watching my sugar intake."
Tonpa shrugged and wandered off to find other newbies to victimize with his infamous "laxative cocktail." He had long given up on actually passing the Hunter Exam—what kept him coming back year after year was the thrill of watching rookies suffer.
But this year would be different.
Jon's eyes narrowed, and a sly grin crept across his face. From his leg, a single thread extended—barely visible—slithering across the ground like a serpent until it climbed up Tonpa's pant leg.
With that, Jon sent a pulse of golden energy down the thread. "Ripple Overdrive."
The thread buzzed faintly as the Ripple coursed into Tonpa's body, right as the man was handing another spiked drink to a group of unsuspecting newbies.
Tonpa's hands froze. His eyes went wide. "Wait… why… why am I opening this…?"
He tried to resist, but his body betrayed him. With a mechanical motion, he opened the can and downed the entire thing.
Jon chuckled softly. He said no with his mouth, but his body was very honest.
Moments later, Tonpa clutched his stomach. His face turned pale. He stood up unsteadily and staggered toward the restroom like a man possessed.
"Farewell, Tonpa-san," Jon whispered. "This is the least I can do for you."
Once Tonpa stumbled into the public restroom, Jon summoned [Stone Free] and used it to seal every exit with threads as strong as steel.
Tonpa's POV:
I'm Tonpa, the Newbie Crusher. I've been taking the Hunter Exam since I was ten. I never passed, but that's fine—I live for the moment I see a genius newbie cry. That's the high I chase.
This year, I met a cocky kid who called himself Joseph. I tricked him once. I thought it was over. But…
I don't know what's happening. My guts are twisting. I—I drank my own poison? No, that's impossible! That's not how this was supposed to go!
I need to reach the toilet—NOW.
He made it just in time. Or rather, just in time to discover that the doors wouldn't budge.
"NOOO!" Tonpa howled.
Then came the unholy sound.
PFFT! SPLAT! SSSSIZZLE~~!
It echoed like a war drum across the clearing. His pants were instantly soaked in a horrific brown slurry. The air turned noxious within seconds.
Nearby candidates began to gag.
"OH MY GOD, WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!""Is someone dying in there?""I think he exploded…"
One brave man, a middle-aged applicant with a dazzling "wash-cut-blow" hairstyle in bold yellow-red stripes, covered his nose and stepped forward.
"Whoever is in there," he said, frowning, "have some decency. We're all human beings here."
From inside, Tonpa let out a final groan before collapsing. Dehydrated. Defeated. Dehumanized.
When the stench cleared and the survivors returned to camp, no one dared mention Tonpa's name again. His legacy was ruined. Forever.
Imagine him bragging in future years:
"I've taken the exam dozens of times!""You soiled yourself in public… and didn't even take your pants off."
"I've crushed many newbies!""You crushed your dignity instead."
Good luck impressing Gon and Killua with your laxatives now, Jon thought smugly.
The examiner, holding his nose and clearly trying to suppress his gag reflex, finally stepped forward.
"You've passed the preliminary round of the Hunter Exam," he said. "That means you have enough strength and wisdom to continue... but it doesn't mean anything. I'm going to cut half of you before we even start."
At that moment, a notification rang in Jon's mind.
Ding! Side quest triggered: [Obtain a Hunter License].