"Although I know I'm not your equal, I'm still the strongest ninja of my generation. If you plan to take me down, it won't be easy. And I'm stubborn—I've never surrendered in my life! If you're thinking of using torture to get what you want, know this: I've endured it since childhood!"
Hanzo's tone was resolute. He crossed his arms and added with a sly grin, "And let me warn you—if I die of blood loss, you'll be disqualified too. So think carefully before you try anything reckless."
Others' thoughts:
This guy talks way too much... I really want to gag him.
Yet no one could deny Hanzo's strength. Physically, he was ahead of Killua—not surprising, given that he was six years older. His upbringing wasn't any less brutal, either. Hanzo's training as a ninja involved unspeakable torture, rivaling even what Killua had endured with the Zoldycks. When he said pain didn't faze him, he meant it.
But… torture?
Would Ronnel really bother with such an unnecessary method?
Just as Hanzo opened his mouth to say more, Ronnel interrupted in an even, calm voice:
"You have two choices."
Hanzo froze mid-sentence, and the room fell silent. Everyone turned toward Ronnel, waiting for his next words.
"Option one: You surrender now."
"That's not happening!" Hanzo snapped immediately.
Ronnel smiled, undeterred by Hanzo's stubbornness.
"Option two: I'll surrender now. You can get your Hunter License, no problem. But once that's done..." Ronnel's smile darkened, a chill creeping into his expression, "...I'll kill you outside."
Hanzo's blood ran cold.
The examiners and referee exchanged uneasy glances. There weren't many rules in the Hunter Exam. Aside from the two main prohibitions—no outside interference and no unauthorized killing—almost anything else was allowed, including bribery and intimidation.
Still, the open threat to kill another Hunter, right in front of the Hunter Association Chairman, was beyond bold. It bordered on reckless.
Even so, Isaac Netero didn't seem the least bit troubled. Instead, he chuckled.
"Hohohoho, this kid is interesting! Truly interesting!"
Netero knew Ronnel came from Meteor City, a lawless wasteland where survival was a matter of cunning and ruthlessness. It didn't surprise him that Ronnel's behavior reflected that upbringing. As long as Bisky, his master, kept him in check, Netero had no reason to interfere. He expected nothing less from someone molded by Meteor City's chaos.
Back in the arena, Ronnel spoke again, his tone even but unwavering.
"Don't think you can pull some ninja trick and slip away after the exam. I've planned for every outcome."
With a casual flick of his wrist, Ronnel produced a small can of juice from his pocket.
"...This juice looks familiar," murmured Gon, squinting.
"Wait a second!" Gon suddenly exclaimed. "That's gotta be Tonpa's laxative juice!"
Hanzo flinched. He recognized the name instantly: Tonpa, the infamous "Rookie Crusher," notorious for poisoning first-time examinees with diuretics and laxatives.
Ronnel gave the can a shake, the liquid sloshing inside ominously.
"This stuff isn't just a regular laxative," Ronnel said, his voice steady but threatening. "I've enhanced it with some special ingredients, including a powerful toxin that'll leave you with relentless diarrhea and muscle weakness for three days straight."
Hanzo's expression darkened. He knew all too well how devastating Tonpa's concoctions could be. Even without poison, severe dehydration from prolonged diarrhea would incapacitate him for days. But if there was poison mixed in...
"You see where this is going?" Ronnel asked with a grin.
Hanzo clenched his fists. He could already envision the worst-case scenario: If he refused to surrender, Ronnel could easily overpower him in the confined space, force-feed him the laxative, and confiscate his supplies. Without proper medical treatment, he'd be left helpless, a sitting duck waiting to be killed once everyone else moved on.
Hanzo gulped. What if Ronnel wasn't bluffing? Could he afford to take that risk?
Then Gon's earlier words echoed in his mind: "That's Tonpa's laxative!"
Hanzo shuddered. If it really was Tonpa's laxative... then Ronnel wasn't joking. Even without any added poison, the laxative alone could put him out of commission.
"I can't let my pride hurt the reputation of Jappon," Hanzo thought grimly.
(T/N: Jappon is an island country in the world.)
Taking a deep breath, Hanzo made his decision.
"I... surrender."
Ronnel's smile softened—ever so slightly. "Wise choice."
He tucked the juice can back into his pocket, satisfied.
For all his bravado, Ronnel hadn't been bluffing about the contents of the juice. Not only had he refined Tonpa's original laxative formula using his Nen abilities, but he'd also added a slow-acting corpse poison. Even if Hanzo received medical treatment for the laxative's effects, the poison would remain in his system, a silent threat waiting to strike.
Mixing the poison with the laxative had been an experiment of sorts—a dangerous one. Ronnel was almost disappointed he wouldn't get to see the results firsthand.
Back on the players' bench, Hanzo sat down heavily, his face pale with lingering fear. He knew he had escaped by the skin of his teeth. But his next match was against Hisoka, a far more dangerous opponent. He'd need to regroup quickly if he wanted any chance of survival.
While Hanzo strategized in silence, another battle began on the opposite side of the arena.
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