Following Lippo's explanation regarding the conclusion of the third phase of the Hunter Exam, a group of examinees, led by Hunter Association staff, headed to the shore. A luxurious yacht was waiting there to transport them. They boarded the vessel, which immediately set sail, heading toward the mysterious Zevil Island.
A young woman in an attendant's uniform and a forced smile stepped forward. "Fellow passengers, thank you for your hard work on the third Hunter Exam," she began. "I am Khara, your tour guide."
"This ship is expected to arrive at Zevil Island in approximately two hours. The 25 candidates who have boarded this vessel... you will receive a free admission pass for next year's exam headquarters. So, even if you do not pass this phase, do not be too disappointed. We invite you to return and accept the challenge next year."
The guide Khara attempted to lighten the mood, but at that moment, all the candidates were in a state of maximum vigilance. Her words elicited no reaction. The atmosphere was so oppressive that Khara began to doubt her own professional skills.
Fortunately, Khara quickly composed herself and continued her explanation with a professional smile. "Thus, the two hours remaining before reaching Zevil Island will be free time. Please enjoy your boat trip!"
After saying this, Khara hastily withdrew. The tense atmosphere made her feel deeply uncomfortable.
Ryusei had no interest in interacting with anyone at that moment. His sole objective was to minimize his presence, to become unnoticeable. He absolutely had to avoid attracting the attention of Hisoka, the Magician whose dangerous aura was almost palpable. Ryusei sat down in a shaded corner, practicing his breathing technique—an exercise to calm his mind and sharpen his senses, preparing himself mentally and spiritually for what was to come: a week of predation.
The two hours passed at a glacial pace, marked only by silence and tension. Some examinees looked out at the sea, others at their companions, but distrust hung in the air like a dense fog.
The ship finally docked at the coast of Zevil Island. The air was heavy and humid, charged with the smell of salt and wet earth.
The guide Khara reappeared before the group. "Sorry to keep you all waiting. We have arrived at Zevil Island. Please disembark in the order in which you passed the third Hunter Exam."
She paused dramatically, consulting a small device on her wrist. "The fourth phase of the exam consists of a week-long hunt on the island. Each of you must obtain your assigned target's number plate and, furthermore, keep your own plate. For seven days, we will remain here. You must collect a total of six number plates to return. Three of your six plates must come from your assigned target. If you lose your own plate, your score is reduced to zero, so it is vital to protect it."
A chill of realism ran through everyone present. It was a test that legitimized murder.
"The first candidate to disembark will be the first to establish their strategy," Khara continued, her tone unusually loud and forced. "And the next person must wait a full two minutes before leaving the ship. Now, let's start with the first candidate! Set off!"
Khara's excitement contrasted grotesquely with the tense expressions of the examinees. No one reacted to her pep talk. The countdown had begun, and each was now alone against twenty-four.
Hisoka, number 44, was the first to disembark. As the number one in the order of merit, Hisoka had more than enough time to hide and set an ambush, but the Magician was not one to hide. His presence was his lure. He simply walked into the island with an elastic, almost playful gait, making no attempt to conceal himself, savoring the start of the hunt. This was a great relief to Ryusei, who feared Hisoka, gripped by his bloodlust, would simply stay near the drop-off point to "play" with the newcomers, creating a lethal bottleneck.
As the two minutes passed, Ryusei mentally reviewed the face and number of his target, Pokkle, the archer. His own number plate, 53, was secured in an inner pouch, concealed and reinforced with the first, rudimentary applications of his aura.
Two minutes after Hisoka's departure, it was Ryusei's turn to disembark. His strategy was clear: not to plunge into the green labyrinth immediately. He found a well-hidden spot, a thicket of bushes and roots near the beach perimeter, from where he could observe the ship and the disembarkation area without being seen. His position was a temporary refuge, an observation base, essentially waiting for the prey to draw near. His target, Pokkle, had a relatively high rank in the departure order, so Ryusei only had to wait a brief period while other candidates, with nervous glances and rigid postures, disembarked and hurried to disperse.
Shortly after, Pokkle, number 53, disembarked.
Ryusei, however, did not act immediately. Although he was aware that Pokkle's individual strength was not on his level, he was also very conscious of his own weakness: a lack of experience in the wild environment. Pokkle was destined to become a Beast Hunter, skilled in the use of bow and arrow. Undeniably, Pokkle was very adept at combat and movement within a dense forest environment, a specialist in natural ambushes.
Ryusei reasoned that if he failed to incapacitate Pokkle instantly, the archer might escape. Pokkle's speed was comparable to his own on clear ground, and in the dense forest that Ryusei was unfamiliar with, the advantage lay with the archer. Therefore, the plan was simple: follow Pokkle stealthily and wait for the archer to be distracted or become involved in a fight with another candidate. He would be the silent hunter who stole the spoils.
For this, Ryusei relied on the results of his intense training. He had been practicing a mental and physical state he called "Absolute"—an almost perfect control over his aura and presence, a way to camouflage his intent and physical presence so as not to disturb the senses of a less refined fighter. He concentrated, and his aura retracted until it nearly vanished, turning him into a shadow.
Just as he had supposed, Pokkle did not notice the shadow following him.
Ryusei followed Pokkle for several hours, maintaining a distance that varied between twenty and forty meters, moving with the precision of a phantom. As they went deeper, Ryusei noticed how Pokkle grew more cautious. This was not because he had detected Ryusei, but because he had detected another examinee.
Meanwhile, high in a tree, Gon, number 405, absorbed in his own plans to get Hisoka's plate, also spotted the purple-clad examinee and Pokkle. Since neither of the two was his hunting target, Gon decided not to intervene, silently observing the scene. His presence was as subtle as Ryusei's, and neither of them noticed the other, a double layer of camouflage in the dense foliage.
In an area of tall grass, which exceeded a person's height, Pokkle cautiously stalked the purple-clad examinee, whose number plate was visible on his vest: 105. Although the man in purple was vigilant, he had not chosen to hide, confident in his own reaction time and speed. This was precisely what Pokkle had been waiting for.
When the examinee turned his back, Pokkle acted with lightning speed. He drew his bow and fired a silent arrow directly toward his target.
The purple-clad examinee was no novice. Despite having his back turned, he sensed the imminent danger, an instinct honed by fear, and dodged the projectile in a split second. The arrow only grazed his shoulder, a superficial wound, but enough to release its contents.
"Ouch, that was close! Very close!" The examinee touched his wounded shoulder with a hint of smugness. He was proud of his instinct and having avoided the worst. "It won't be that easy to ambush me, you know? Sorry, I'm not that easy... that easy... to be... defeated..."
Just as he was about to finish his arrogant sentence, the examinee felt a shiver that was not fear. A tingling sensation in his blood, which quickly turned into paralysis. His body slipped out of his control. His muscles slackened, and he fell heavily to the ground, unable to move.
Pokkle stepped out of the grass and walked calmly toward the prostrate examinee. With a touch of pride in his voice, he revealed his secret weapon.
"The arrows are coated with a fast-acting anesthetic," Pokkle explained. "It's strong enough to incapacitate a person, preventing them from walking properly for a whole week. But don't worry, it's not lethal. There's a water source nearby. You won't die of thirst."
Although he would not die, his dream of becoming a Hunter that year was over. Pokkle patted the body and found number plate 105.
"I'll take this one!" he said, and with a gesture of disinterest, Pokkle began to return the way he came. His plan to secure a plate from someone with less tracking skill had worked.
However, just as Pokkle reached the base of a stout tree, a step away from returning to the path Ryusei had followed...
A hand shot out from the side, grabbing him with steel-like strength across his abdomen, stopping his movement dead in its tracks.
"You really were lucky," Ryusei's voice was quiet, almost a whisper in the forest stillness. "But you were predictable. Why choose to return the way you came?"
Ryusei had maintained his hidden position, betting that most examinees, after a successful acquisition, would choose to retrace their steps back to an area of relative safety before plunging back into the island's maze. Luck, and his patience, had smiled upon him.
Pokkle's expression changed to pure alarm and rage. He tried to turn and attack Ryusei, perhaps with a hidden arrow, but the archer was no match for the martial artist's speed and precision. Before Pokkle could even tense a muscle in response, Ryusei had delivered a dry, forceful karate chop to the exact point on the back of Pokkle's neck—the same spot he had been training to strike.
The archer instantly collapsed, unconscious, the two plates he was holding rolling onto the moss.
Ryusei proceeded to search Pokkle's body with methodical efficiency. He found two number plates.
He took the plate bearing the number 53, which belonged to Pokkle. This was his target's plate, meaning he had completed his hunting mission. The other plate, marked with the number 105, the spoils recently acquired by the archer, Ryusei threw back next to Pokkle.
"My own plate, plus my target's plate. That's six points," Ryusei muttered to himself ($3+3=6$). He had met the minimum requirements without having to risk a confrontation with Hisoka or other elite fighters. He was done. He needed no more complication or unnecessary risk.
Ryusei checked his surroundings once more. He felt a curious sense of calm. He had overcome the first hurdle of the Zevil Island hunt with minimal risk and maximum efficiency. The weakness of the environment was mitigated by cunning, patience, and his camouflage training.
His mind was already on the next step. Although he had the six plates he needed, he couldn't simply return. He still had days until the exam ended. Returning early would only give Hisoka and other dangerous Hunters time to find him.
The plan now was to survive the remaining time in absolute anonymity.
Ryusei crouched down and took a breath. The island was vast, and the dangers were many. Now that his objective was complete, his priority shifted from Hunting to Evasion and Camouflage. He moved silently into the forest, looking for a hideout that would be absolutely impenetrable—a place where he could wait out the end of the week, far from the gaze of the strongest Hunters.