Germain remembered that this was indeed the case.
In the 1999 Hunter Exam, after the candidates arrived at an unremarkable restaurant, the guide spoke a code phrase, and they were allowed to enter the examination hall.
"So, do I need you to take me to the exam room personally?" Germain asked.
"I'd like to be your guide..." Bisky's voice was a little sheepish.
"But I've been really busy lately, so I can't take on that responsibility. But don't worry, I've arranged for someone else to guide you."
"Who?" Germain asked.
"My student, Wing, is currently the acting assistant master of the Shingen-ryu Fist Technique," Bisky explained briefly. "Just give him the gemstone you showed me. You can trust him completely; he's a good kid."
"I understand," Germain said, about to hang up the phone. But before he could, Bisky interjected, sensing his intent.
"Wait, wait! Don't hang up yet! First, tell me what this gemstone is, where it came from, and how you got it."
Germain replied, "I'll tell you when I get the chance."
"Huh? Now is the perfect opportunity! Don't hang up yet—"
Germain hung up the phone and put it on silent mode. He plugged it in to charge on his bedside table, then headed to the bathroom.
A few days of rest later, time had shifted quietly from late 1997 to early 1998.
Germain set off on the morning of January 7, carrying a travel backpack and taking a bus to Yanisha City.
He was relatively close to Yanisha City, so he didn't need to take an airship, and the stones in his backpack might not have passed airship security.
After a two-hour bus ride, he saw the iconic spire castle and church of Yanisha come into view.
Germain looked out the window, watching the city streets, the bright shop fronts, the sparkling lake, and the birds flying above, feeling like he was in his own personal world.
After taking the Hunter Exam, it might be nice to travel alone for a while.
But the bus was crowded and noisy, not his personal sanctuary.
He heard a strange noise from the side with a "click." He turned and saw two girls sitting across the aisle hurriedly putting away their phones, their faces turning red.
"Whoops, I forgot to turn off the camera sound..." one of them muttered.
"He came over, and he's really handsome. What should I do?"
"Why don't you just ask for a photo? Strike up a conversation while you're at it."
"Then you do it."
"Why don't you?"
Just then, the bus arrived with a screeching sound.
Both the front and back doors opened with a "psst," and passengers stood up from their seats, gathering in the narrow aisle to disembark in an orderly fashion.
Before the hesitant girls could make a move, Germain adjusted his tricorn hat, swung his travel backpack over his shoulder, and exited the bus.
"Aww, he's gone..." came a disappointed sigh from behind.
Germain stepped into the bustling station, surrounded by blank-faced commuters and hurried travelers.
They all moved quickly, their eyes either filled with distraction or impatience, walking past him without a second glance. They were just passing through.
He soon noticed a young man standing by the station's entrance, wearing glasses and a shirt. The man had a habit of squinting, as if his eyes were always half-closed, and he wore a constant smile. His shirt hung loosely on the right side, untucked from his pants, giving him a casual air.
When the man with glasses saw Germain, he immediately walked over, stopping in front of him. He gave a slight bow and extended his hand.
"You must be Mr. Germain. I'm Wing, a student of Teacher Biscuit."
"I'm Germain."
Germain glanced briefly at Wing's outstretched hand, then reached out to shake it. The handshake was brief, Germain letting go quickly. Wing didn't seem fazed by the short greeting and adjusted his glasses.
"Mr. Germain, you've been traveling a long time. Would you like to rest for a bit? There's a nice restaurant nearby..."
"No need," Germain interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Mr. Wing, please take me to the hunter examination room."
"Of course," Wing replied with a nod. "But There's still three hours before the exam starts."
"It doesn't matter. I prefer to be early rather than late," Germain replied with a calm demeanor.
Wing nodded in approval. "That's a good habit. I'll show you the way. Follow me."
Zushi was absent at this time, suggesting he either hadn't become Wing's disciple yet or Wing hadn't brought him to meet this risky stranger, Germain.
Germain and Wing left the bustling Yanisha City Station, navigating through the crowd. They walked past a lively park and over an old stone arch bridge. The river below was so still it reflected the bridge like a mirror.
Not far from the bridge, a gray-white church with a tall steeple stood out. The square in front was filled with white pigeons pecking at breadcrumbs scattered on the ground by visitors.
Wing, with one hand clasped behind his back, pointed toward the church with his extended index finger.
"Mr. Germain, that's where the Hunter exam will take place."
Germain casually tipped his hat, showing little surprise. The Hunter exam locations were notorious for being hidden in plain sight.
Wing started to lead Germain toward the church, but a sudden, grating "creak" caught their attention.
Wing turned quickly, his eyes widening in alarm.
A black Beetle car was weaving erratically towards them, causing a flurry of white pigeons to scatter into the sky in a chaotic storm of feathers.
"Is there something wrong with the car?" Wing muttered, but then his instincts kicked in. "No, this is intentional!" he exclaimed, moving into a defensive stance.
The driver whipped the steering wheel left and right with reckless abandon, as if he was inebriated, flooring the accelerator and brake without warning. The little Beetle rocked back and forth, on the brink of tipping over with each wide turn.
"What's happening?" Wing adjusted his glasses, the lenses catching the light.
Caught off guard by the wild driving, he noticed Germain calmly setting down his travel backpack and walking toward him.
"Mr. Germain?!" Wing exclaimed, startled by his sudden movement.
Germain paused and turned to him. "Chances are, these guys are assassin. They come around almost every day, though they've been slacking off lately."
"It's not about how often they come, Mr. Germain," Wing warned, eyes widening. "Watch out behind you!"
The Beetle car barreled forward like a raging bull, revealing its true intent. Germain barely turned to glance at Wing before swiftly sidestepping the oncoming car, dodging like a graceful matador. The Beetle car screeched to a halt.
The driver hastily attempted to shift gears to either turn around or reverse, but then he glanced in the rearview mirror and his blood ran cold—the target had vanished.
He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but when he looked again, the target was right beside him, sitting in the passenger seat with a smirk. The driver's hair stood on end in shock.
********
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