chapter 25 Cooking the pig

As we stepped into the dense forest surrounding the testing grounds, I could hear Buhara's booming voice echoing from behind us. "Did you really have to kill him, Menchi? I was going to disqualify him and send him flying!"

I ignored their bickering, my focus fixed on navigating the treacherous terrain and securing the necessary ingredients for the cooking challenge. Rem walked beside me, her sharp eyes scanning the undergrowth for any signs of the elusive Great Stamp, a type of wild pig known for its delicious meat.

We hadn't gone far when I noticed a familiar figure standing amidst the trees, his back turned towards us.

It was Illumi, his long, black hair and emotionless gaze unmistakable. And before him, restrained in his grasp, stood Killua, his face pale with fear.

Illumi held a needle in his hand, its point glinting menacingly in the sunlight towards his forehead. Rage surged through me, hot and blinding.

This bastard, he had disregarded my warning, had ignored my warning at the first moment given.

Seems I'd be fulfilling the bounty now!

"You piece of shit!" I roared, my voice echoing through the dense foliage. "I made a promise to you!"

Rage, white-hot and blinding, surged through my veins. This fucker, Illumi, he'd gone and done it again. I'd given him a warning, laid out the consequences in no uncertain terms. And what does he do? The exact fucking thing I told him not to.

My feet moved before my conscious mind could catch up, a blur of motion propelled by a surge of Nen and chi. I channeled the full force of my enhanced strength into each step, the swampy ground barely registering beneath my boots.

Illumi turned, his expression as blank as a porcelain doll's, his eyes those dead, black pools reflecting nothing but apathy. He didn't even flinch as I closed the distance between us, a predator bearing down on its prey.

"Tereda," he acknowledged, his voice flat, emotionless. "I expected you might interfere."

"Interfere?" I spat, my voice dripping with venom. "You call this 'guidance'? Threatening to kill Gon if Killua removes your fucking mind-control needle? You're a sick fuck, Illumi. And you're about to learn that pissing me off again is your end."

Killua stood there, frozen, his face pale and drawn, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and hope.

I could sense the struggle within him, the conflicting desires to break free from Illumi's control and protect his friend.

I wasn't going to let him suffer any longer. Not this time.

My hand tightened around the hilt of my sword.

The air around the blade hummed with power, a symphony of Nen and chi merging, amplifying my intent.

I'd promised Illumi suffering.

I was a man of my word.

"Rem," I barked, activating Whirlwind Step for the first time in this world. The air around me rippled, swirling into a miniature vortex as I propelled myself forward.

In a heartbeat, I was beside Killua, scooping him up under my arm before Illumi could even react.

"Take him," I said, thrusting another vial of the hyper-regeneration potion into Rem's outstretched hand. "Get him out of here. And while you're at it, bring me back a pig. This asshole's buying dinner with that bounty."

Rem, bless her unwavering faith in me, didn't hesitate.

She caught the vial, a playful smirk gracing her lips.

"Don't take too long, honey," she smiled, blowing me a kiss before disappearing into the undergrowth with Killua in tow.

The moment they were out of sight, my playful facade vanished.

My eyes narrowed, locking onto Illumi with laser focus. He stood there, his expression unreadable, a phantom in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

The air crackled with anticipation, the forest holding its breath.

This was it. No more games, no more warnings. It was time to settle the score.

I channeled my chi, pushing it to its limits, feeling the familiar hum of power coursing through my meridians.

Then, I layered Nen on top of it, the two energies intertwining, amplifying each other in a feedback loop of ever-increasing intensity.

My body strained against the influx of power, a warning tremor running through my muscles.

I could push further, break through the limitations of my current level, but at a cost.

Ten times my base strength was the limit, the point beyond which I risked damaging my own body.

It would have to be enough.

With a surge of concentrated will, I unleashed the full force of my amplified power. The air exploded around me, leaves swirling into a frenzied dance, branches snapping under the pressure.

I was a blur of motion, a whirlwind of chi and Nen.

The world seemed to slow down, the forest becoming crisp and clear as I saw Illumi move in seeming slow motion.

I was upon Illumi before he could even register my movement.

My fist, radiating with concentrated power, aimed for his chest, a blow that would shatter bone and pulp flesh.

Illumi, to his credit, reacted with inhuman speed.

His years of training as an assassin kicked in, honed instincts allowing him to barely twist aside at the last moment.

My fist grazed his shoulder, tearing through his cloak and drawing a thin line of blood. It wasn't the devastating blow I had intended, but it was a start.

The impact of my fist against Illumi's shoulder sent a shockwave through the surrounding trees, leaves raining down in a flurry of green. He staggered back, a surprised grunt escaping his lips as he clutched at the wound.

A thin line of blood trickled down his arm, a testament to the raw power behind my strike. He hadn't expected that kind of speed, that level of force. His usual stoic mask faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise.

It was a fleeting moment, quickly replaced by his usual cold, calculating demeanor. He raised his hand, needles glinting between his fingers.

"You're stronger than I anticipated," Illumi conceded, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "But speed alone is not enough to defeat me."

He flicked his wrist, sending a barrage of needles hurtling towards me.

They flashed through the air, their points shimmering with a deadly gleam.

Each one was imbued with Nen, capable of piercing flesh and bone with ease, each one a potential death sentence.

I didn't even bother trying to dodge.

At this range, at this speed, it was pointless.

Instead, I channeled my Nen, forming a protective barrier around my body.

The needles struck, pinging harmlessly against the reinforced aura.

They clattered to the ground, their power negated by my enhanced defenses.

Illumi's eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance breaking through his usual apathy.

He hadn't expected that.

He wasn't used to his attacks being so easily thwarted.

"Impressive," he said, his voice still flat, but a hint of respect, laced with a dangerous edge, crept into his tone. "But your defenses won't hold forever."

He lunged forward, his movements a blur of speed and precision.

He was fast, certainly, but nowhere near my level.

I tracked his every move, my enhanced senses providing a clear picture of his trajectory, his intentions.

He aimed a kick for my chest, a deceptively simple attack that held the potential to shatter ribs and collapse lungs.

I swayed aside, his foot whistling past my ear. Then, with a swift counter, I slammed my elbow into his side.

He grunted in pain, stumbling back as my blow connected with his ribs.

I didn't hold back, channeling the full force of my amplified strength into the strike.

He coughed, a splatter of blood staining the front of his pristine purple disguise suit.

"You're strong," Illumi gasped, his breathing ragged. "But you lack finesse. You rely too much on brute force."

He straightened up, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand.

His eyes narrowed, a cold, calculating gleam returning to their depths.

"Let's see how you fare against a true master of Nen."

He closed his eyes, his aura flaring as he began to channel his Nen into a new, more potent technique.

The air around him thickened, a palpable sense of danger radiating outwards.

This wasn't going to be like the previous exchanges.

This was the real deal.

I'm not fucking interested though.

"Finesse?" I echoed, a cold smile spreading across my face. "Let me show you finesse, Illumi."

I drew my sword, the polished steel singing as it left its scabbard.

The air hummed with a different kind of power now, a razor-sharp edge layered atop my amplified strength and speed.

Illumi's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, a flicker of genuine fear breaking through his carefully constructed mask of indifference.

It was too late.

I moved, a blur of motion even faster than before.

The sword flashed, a silver streak against the backdrop of the forest as Shu wrapped the blade for a moment.

Two clean cuts.

Blood sprayed, splattering the leaves and the mossy ground.

Illumi screamed, a raw, primal sound of agony that ripped through the stillness of the swamp.

He staggered back, staring in disbelief at the bloody stumps where his arms had been moments before.

I didn't give him a chance to recover.

I was on him in an instant, my knee slamming into his gut, driving the air from his lungs.

He crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

I grabbed his jaw, forcing his head up to meet my gaze.

His eyes, wide with pain and terror, finally reflected the reality of the situation.

He was utterly defeated.

"You...you monster," he wheezed, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips.

"Monster?" I chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. "Look in the mirror."

I pulled a vial from my armor's storage, a concoction specially designed to seal away Nen abilities entirely- brewed just minutes before the exams second stage.

I forced his jaw open and poured the potion down his throat.

He choked, gagging as the liquid burned its way down his esophagus.

His aura flickered, then sputtered out like a dying flame.

I released him, letting his head fall back against the muddy ground.

He lay there, a broken, defeated figure, his eyes staring vacantly at the canopy above.

The fight was over.

"Are you going to finish him off or are we going to go back to cook the pig and THEN cook the other pig?" a voice said from behind me.

I turned to see Rem standing there, Killua beside her, his face pale but free from Illumi's control. She held a large, squealing Great stamp in her arms, its eyes wide with terror.

"I know I promised him torture, but I don't think i can do it." I said, wiping my sword clean on Illumi's discarded cloak. "This asshole needed to die, yes, but carving a lesson into his flesh is just- not me."

I glanced at Killua, offering a reassuring smile. "You okay, Killua?"

Killua nodded, his gaze fixed on his brother's broken form. "Yeah," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I'm okay."

I nodded.

I know I promised I'd torture this guy, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

I wouldn't lower myself to that.

I just decided to finish him

I stepped forward and severed his head.

I pulled a bag from my armor, shoved it in there for identification, and decided to turn it in for the global bounty as well as the Tojo bounty Sukina gave me.

I know that will put me in the crosshairs of his impossible to kill right now grandfather, but by the time they have a plan, I'd be strong enough to destroy all of them.

The scent of burnt pork and frustration hung heavy in the air as the examinees presented their dishes to the examiners. Rem and I, despite our combined culinary skills, hadn't fared much better than the rest. The pig we'd acquired, courtesy of Rem, had been a tough, uncooperative beast, even in death. Our roast was dry, overcooked, and frankly, a bit of an embarrassment.

To our surprise, Buhara, with a booming laugh and a hearty appetite, passed everyone, declaring that effort was more important than culinary perfection in this particular test. Menchi, however, was not as easily appeased.

Her gaze swept across the assembled dishes, her lips curled into a disdainful sneer. "This is pathetic," she declared, her voice sharp as a butcher's cleaver. "You call yourselves Hunters? You can't even prepare a decent meal!"

She slammed her fist onto the table, sending plates clattering. "For my dish," she announced, her eyes narrowed in challenge, "I demand sushi."

A collective groan rippled through the crowd. Sushi, a delicate and intricate culinary art, was far beyond the capabilities of most of the remaining examinees.

I, however, felt a surge of confidence. Memories of my grandfather's sushi restaurant, a haven of fresh fish and expertly crafted rolls, flooded my mind. It was a distant memory, lost in the wreckage of Earth-Bet, but the knowledge remained, etched into my soul.

"I can do that," I said, stepping forward.

Rem raised an eyebrow, "Since when are you a sushi chef?" she whispered.

"Grandfather owned a restaurant back in Japan," I explained, my voice low. "Before Kyushu…"

I trailed off, the pain of that loss still a dull ache in my chest. But the memory of my grandfather's skill, his dedication to his craft, fueled my determination. I wouldn't let him down.

With practiced ease, I gathered the necessary ingredients, my hands moving with a swiftness and precision honed by subjective years of martial arts training and amplified by Nen.

Thank you thousand hour amulet again, for this wonderful gift.

I expertly filleted a fresh fish, my knife flashing through its flesh with surgical accuracy.

I prepped the rice, seasoned it perfectly, and molded it into neat, bite-sized portions.

Within minutes, a platter of nigiri sushi lay before Menchi, each piece a testament to my grandfather's legacy.

Menchi eyed the sushi with a critical gaze, then picked up a piece and popped it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, her expression unreadable. Finally, she swallowed, a sigh escaping her lips.

"This… is sushi," she admitted grudgingly. "But it's wrong."

My jaw dropped. Wrong? What the hell did she mean by wrong?

"It's not the style I requested," Menchi elaborated, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. "I specifically wanted the 'Dancing Serpent' style from the easternmost portion of Japon, Did you not listen?"

Rage, hot and sudden, flared within me.

This bitch, she was insulting my grandfather's memory, his legacy, for some arbitrary, unspoken rule of sushi presentation she hadn't even asked for!

I grabbed a whole fish, slapping it onto a bed of rice with a vicious thud. "If you insult me as a chef for a reason as shitty as I didn't follow instructions that you didn't give, then this is all I'll give you," I snarled, my voice laced with venom. "Because in a restaurant I might own, I'd just kick you out."

Menchi's eyes narrowed, her aura flaring. In a flash, she drew a hidden blade, its edge glinting with a deadly light. She lunged, the blade aimed for my throat.

I reacted instinctively, channeling my chi and Nen, preparing to deflect the blow with a force and direction that would send her head flying.

But then, a massive blimp descended from the sky, casting a long shadow over the courtyard.

A figure leaped from the blimp, landing gracefully between Menchi and me.

With a slam that kicked up dirt, my sword was caught by a single finger.

It was Netero, the chairman of the Hunter Association, his wizened face creased with a knowing smile.

"This has gotten out of hand," Netero declared, his voice calm yet commanding. "And I agree with young Tereda here. Why don't we take another test?"

Menchi, Noticing her blade was not in her hand, but in fact was lodged in the arm rest beside her, stumbled back, falling onto her backside as she also noticed the blade I held was just a hair from her throat.

She stared at Netero, her face pale with shock and fear.

Sweat beaded on her brow, a clear reaction to the near-death experience she had just had.

Netero turned to Menchi, his smile fading into a stern frown.

"Menchi," he said, his voice laced with disapproval, "you are a skilled Hunter, but your temper has gotten the better of you. You cannot fail an entire group of applicants simply because you are irritated."

He picked up one of my remaining sushi rolls and popped it into his mouth.

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. "This is quite good, actually," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

Menchi, still shaken by her near-death experience, could only sputter in protest.