Chapter 22 : The Mansion with Traps!!

He was always doing his own thing, as if he lived in a world where no one else mattered, and most people either feared or avoided him for one reason or another.

Germain wandered through the various rooms on the second floor, but none seemed to meet his expectations. After venturing up to the third floor and dodging a surprise attack from a massive hammer, he finally stumbled upon the largest room in the mansion.

"Let's stay here tonight," he declared.

A simple "click" indicated the door was now locked.

He tossed his backpack onto the sofa and headed to the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

When he finally emerged, wearing light pajamas and toweling his hair dry, steam wafted from the bathroom, filling the room. 

It was at this moment that he heard a loud "click" from the doorknob, followed by the door being forcefully pushed open, breaking the lock in the process.

In walked a burly man with a round face and a carefree demeanor. He was also a contestant—Taiga, a veteran who had participated in several rounds of the examination.

Taiga wasn't surprised to find someone in the most luxurious room; he'd entered with the intention of claiming it for himself. But when he saw it was Germain, his expression changed to a frown.

Germain continued toweling off his hair, his dark eyes fixed on Taiga, as if to say, "What do you want?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice as direct as his stare.

"I..." Taiga hesitated, a surge of courage suddenly propelling him forward. "I don't want to share a room with other people. This room is mine. You need to leave." He gestured toward the corridor with his thumb, his lips tightening into a scowl.

Germain tilted his head slightly, as if puzzled by Taiga's demand.

"Tsk." Taiga cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing through the room. "Others might be scared of you and that pretty boy, but I'm not. If you don't leave, we'll settle this in the fairest way..."

"Bam!"

As soon as the shadow flitted by, Taiga was hurled from the luxury room and crashed into the corridor wall with a whirlwind of motion.

The impact echoed through the corridor, grabbing the attention of the nearby candidates. They looked over to find Taiga sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. 

The force of his collision had left spiderweb-like cracks in the wall, and a loose brick fell, hitting him on the head. He didn't even flinch.

A moment later, the door to the luxury room slammed shut, followed by the sound of a chair being dragged to block it.

Curious and cautious, some candidates inched closer after the noise died down.

"Hey, you okay?" one of them asked, squatting beside Taiga, reaching out to help him up.

"Don't touch me!" Taiga snapped, startling the would-be Good Samaritan. He softened his voice but didn't hide his pain. "Don't touch me... I think it's broken."

The others exchanged worried glances. If Taiga said something was broken, it likely meant he'd sustained a serious injury—perhaps even a fracture.

And whoever broke his bones was likely Germain, the one inside the luxury room.

The nearby candidates couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Unlike Taiga, they hadn't aggravated Germain. Otherwise, they'd be in his place, left crumpled against a wall, potentially facing a lifetime of paralysis.

Despite persistent questions about what happened, Taiga refused to elaborate. His face was a storm of emotions, and he kept his lips sealed. 

Seeing that there was no drama to witness and feeling no inclination to assist a "competitor," the other candidates left the corridor one by one, not wanting to linger near Germain's room any longer than necessary.

In the end, the corridor—lined with its lush red carpet—fell silent, save for the sound of Taiga breathing heavily, slumped against the cracked wall.

If nothing unexpected happened, Taiga would spend a miserable night in this cold and desolate place, battling pain and despair.

But something unexpected did happen.

The man who had been lurking in the shadows emerged, stepping into the light. He stood in front of Taiga, who was too injured to move.

"You... Who are you?" Taiga asked, his voice quivering. His usually chubby face had lost all its color, a mix of fear and pain draining him of warmth.

"I am Ian, the examiner for the second phase," replied the man in the black butler's suit. His sparse white hair and stern expression indicated years of experience. "This 'Trap Mansion' is my creation."

Taiga's lips trembled as he pointed to the sealed door, the one that was supposed to keep intruders at bay.

"He didn't break any exam rules," Ian said, shattering Taiga's illusion of escape. "However, you require immediate medical attention, which means you're out of the exam."

"I..."

"I believe I made myself clear, didn't I?" Ian's voice was firm, with an edge that left no room for debate.

Taiga's large, heavy frame slumped like a deflated balloon. "I understand," he muttered.

Ian shot a glance at the door, then slowly crouched down. Despite his thin and elderly appearance, his arms tensed with surprising strength as he lifted Taiga with ease, cradling him in his grip.

As Taiga watched in disbelief, Ian jumped through the open window with him in tow. The descent was smooth, and despite Taiga's frantic screams, they landed softly, disappearing into the night.

From the balcony of the second floor, Hisoka watched the scene unfold, his gaze following the direction Ian had gone. He then looked up, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully.

"What's my play here?" he murmured to himself. "Should I strike now, or wait until morning?"

Meanwhile, Germain, completely indifferent to anything happening outside, curled up in his soft quilt and enjoyed a restful night's sleep.

During this time, he didn't even have any dreams to disturb him, until a loud noise pulled him out of sleep.

He opened his eyes groggily and heard a clanging sound from somewhere in the distance. Still half-asleep, he sat up and rubbed his hands over his handsome face, trying to wake up.

As he gathered his bearings, he reached over to the bedside table and checked the alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning, which made him frown slightly. It was way too early for any reasonable person to be awake.

The sound of metal clashing continued outside, growing louder as if to ensure that everyone in the entire mansion was woken up. It felt deliberate, almost as if it was meant to disrupt the calm.

Was the third exam really happening at this ungodly hour, even before sunrise?

He reluctantly stood up, stretched, and headed to the balcony to check what was causing all the commotion. Below, in the open area in front of the mansion, people were starting to gather around a figure.

The person was shouting something, but Germain wasn't interested in listening just yet. Instead, he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth, splash some water on his face, and put on his usual hunter's outfit.

Outside, it was still dark, with only the pale glow of the moon casting a faint light over the surrounding mountains and fields.

By the time he joined the others in the open area, it was clear that the number of candidates had dropped significantly. But Germain was relieved to find that it was much quieter than before—a welcome change.

Standing at the front of the crowd was a muscular man with long, messy blue hair. He wore a tattered animal skin and had his eyes closed, hitting a metal tripod with an iron rod in a rhythmic pattern.

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