41 Repatriation? X Compromise X The Humble Well Tower

If Chrollo hadn’t had some degree of understanding about Netero, the two of them might very well have already come to blows by now. Bearing the old man’s immense aura, which was clearly directed solely at him and Shalnark—a pressure so intense it felt as though an attack might come at any moment—Chrollo merely curled his lips into a cultured, urbane smile.

“It’s been a long time, Chairman Netero.”

The old man maintained his amiable, squinting smile and the steady emission of his aura, and, as if by chance, took a small step forward.

“It certainly has been a long time,” he replied with a chuckle. “I’m surprised you still remember an old codger like me.”

Chrollo was rather taken aback by the obvious double meaning in the old man’s words.

Yet for someone as formidable (or perhaps as thick-skinned?) as the Phantom Troupe’s leader, how could he be so easily discomfited?

“Surely you jest, Chairman. The depth of your strength when we last met left a vivid impression upon me—I couldn’t possibly forget you.”

He was subtly reminding Netero that their previous encounter had not been especially pleasant—the Troupe had targeted a certain ruin for exploration, only to find the Hunter Association’s archaeological team after the same prize. Though the archaeologists were well-guarded, they were no match for the Troupe’s overwhelming strength. It seemed inevitable that the Troupe would claim the right to the first exploration—and perhaps annihilate the entire team—when the old chairman, who happened to be vacationing nearby, received a distress call and rushed to the scene. Alone, he managed to stand against the entire Troupe.

In the end, the Troupe was forced to retreat, and the ruin that had caught Chrollo’s fancy naturally fell into the hands of the Hunter Association.

It was said that a famous emperor’s tomb from an ancient dynasty was eventually unearthed there, together with a trove of precious artifacts and rare manuscripts.

Incidentally, this emperor’s tomb belonged to the same dynasty as the ruin where the Troupe had previously found the Mokona painting, which explained Chrollo’s lingering resentment toward Netero.

Despite their less-than-harmonious first meeting, Chrollo now released a subtle signal of reconciliation—

Since you forcefully interrupted us last time, perhaps this time… some compromise or compensation might be possible?

The Hunter Exam never cared about the examinees’ true identities; whether you applied under your real name or an alias, so long as you passed, you’d receive your license and be recognized as a Hunter.

Hence, a wanted man like Chrollo’s presence at the examination wasn’t really an issue.

The real trouble lay with Shalnark.

Though Shalnark had previously used an alias to take the Hunter Exam, Chrollo was certain the Association had some means—perhaps the ability of a Specialist Nen user—to link the license to its rightful owner.

For a notorious A-grade criminal organization like the Phantom Troupe, the Association must have records of its members. Thus, it was no surprise that Netero recognized Shalnark on the spot and realized he already possessed a license.

This presented a dilemma—Chrollo might be allowed to stay and take the exam, but Shalnark, already a licensed Hunter, wouldn’t be permitted a second license. Netero would likely expel him from the premises—by the most direct and unceremonious means.

That was not the outcome Chrollo wanted.

Yet his attempt at negotiation was met with a result quite different from what he’d hoped.

The old man only smiled, not lessening his aura in the slightest.

“If the memory is so vivid, then surely you know what must be done next.”

Instead of following Chrollo’s lead toward reconciliation, Netero deftly turned his words back on him, “naturally” stating his own demand.

At last, Chrollo’s brow furrowed slightly, and he met Netero’s gaze in silence.

Meanwhile, Kurama, who had been quietly watching the drama unfold from the sidelines, lowered his head and exchanged a look with the Mokona in his arms. Both broke into identical, mischievous grins—

Oh, trying to scheme, are you? First, get past this troublesome old man, then we’ll talk! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Kurama’s familiarity with the story now came into full play. He had deliberately chosen a relaxed, seemingly conciliatory attitude toward the two Spiders, rather than exposing them and forcing a confrontation that would alert the examiner. He waited until now, when Shalnark, making a second attempt at the exam, was caught red-handed by the chairman himself!

After all, what could be more satisfying than seeing someone’s schemes for you fall flat?

The fox demon stroked his chin and answered decisively—nothing!

His smile was so uninhibited and obvious that Illumi, standing beside him, noticed immediately.

“Click-clack?”

The needle man once again began speaking his native language from the Nail Planet.

The red-haired youth beside him, however, listened with an air of utmost seriousness.

“Hm? Of course I’m happy,” he replied with a bright smile. “It’s not every day one gets to see the chairman in person, after all.”

“Click-clack!” You know full well that’s not what I meant.

“Oh? Really? Your language is just so difficult, Gitalagu, I can barely understand a little.” His expression was pure sincerity.

Illumi turned away, ignoring him.

Kurama blinked innocently.

Off to the side, Hisoka put down his cards and, suddenly looking delighted, stroked his chin.

“Hmhm~ hmhmhmhm~”

Kurama strongly suspected he might burst into song at any moment.

Though their antics were many, their voices were low, drawing little attention (except perhaps from certain individuals).

But the other examinees were not so composed.

Chrollo and Netero’s conversation had not been hushed, so many present heard every word.

Realizing that the handsome, dark-haired man who’d drawn so much attention since the start of the exam was on familiar terms with the chairman, many of the examinees could not stay calm.

“Hey! That guy knows the chairman! They’re chatting away so happily—does that mean…”

“Shh! The Hunter Exam is absolutely fair. Chairman Netero would never give anyone special treatment!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Just look at how well they’re getting on…”

The whispers buzzed through the crowd. The chairman himself seemed unbothered, but Menchi, with her fiery temper, snapped first.

“Silence, all of you!”

The striking, voluptuous female Hunter sent a throwing knife whistling through the air, cleaving a tree so thick ten men could barely encircle it. Turning to the now-quiet crowd, she glared fiercely.

“You fools! Do you think the chairman’s reputation is something for you to gossip about?” she scolded. “What’s this ‘getting on so well’? Are you blind? Can’t you see the chairman is upholding the exam’s fairness, attempting to dissuade a rule-breaker from taking the test again?”

Though Menchi’s temperament was fierce and her reprimand blunt, she had, with perfect timing, clarified Netero’s actions, restoring the Hunter Association’s lofty impartiality in an instant.

Throughout the commotion, the chairman himself remained unfazed, and now he chuckled amiably.

“You see, Menchi has already laid out the facts. If you continue to stand against me like this, it’s hardly in keeping with the reputation of Chrollo Lucilfer, is it? Surely you know what the wisest choice is?”

The old man’s tone was unhurried.

The Troupe leader’s expression returned to calm.

“Shalnark,” he called, not bothering to argue further, his voice flat and steady.

The blond youth nodded in understanding.

“I understand, boss.”

He stepped forward, his face wearing a disarmingly warm smile as he addressed the chairman with genuine apology.

“Sorry, Chairman. I just wanted to accompany Chrollo to the exam—I had no intention of actually obtaining a second license.”

The old man continued his amiable chuckle.

“Rules are rules, regardless. Still, I can’t simply let you leave on your own in this Zhumera Wetland. Here’s what we’ll do: you’ll come aboard our airship with us. Once we’ve delivered the examinees to the next venue, I’ll personally see you to the nearest city. How’s that?”

Normally, Shalnark and Chrollo would never have accepted such “kindness”—the Zhumera Wetland was hardly enough to trap the brains of the Troupe.

But after their terrifying ordeal in the mist, neither was sure what would happen if they ventured in again. Exchanging glances, they agreed to Netero’s proposal.

With the rule-breaker himself having admitted as much, Menchi’s earlier explanation was confirmed. Though some examinees still resented Shalnark’s attempt to retake the exam, his dazzling smile—and the quiet, elegant, yet somehow dangerous presence of Chrollo at his side—were enough to deter them from comment. They simply waited for Netero’s verdict and acquiesced.

The next exam—a culinary challenge involving spider eggs—posed no difficulty to Kurama. He completed the task with ease, smiling throughout, his good mood unmistakable.

And the night flight aboard the airship proved a pleasant experience.

Except, of course, for having to join Illumi in stalking Killua.

“Say… isn’t this a bit much?” Kurama muttered, lips twitching as he watched the two children, Killua and Gon, pressed eagerly against the window in excitement over the passing scenery below.

Illumi turned, expressionless, and after a few clicks, turned back.

Kurama was left speechless.

Hisoka, for his part, had wandered off to “find amusement” as soon as he boarded the airship—whether he was off provoking the Troupe leader, who could say.

Kurama hadn’t initially planned to team up with Illumi, but some tacit understanding drew them together.

The result? He was now trailing Killua at Illumi’s side—a stalker, no less.

From their vantage, he easily spotted another pursuer—a young woman whose name Kurama could barely recall, remembering only her tragic story: seeking vengeance on the Zoldyck family for her father, only to learn her beloved parent was himself a profiteer and executioner.

Uninterested in others’ family affairs, Kurama simply exchanged farewells with Illumi, then, cradling a drowsy Mokona, went off in search of rest.

The airship was vast; after tipping a staff member generously for guidance, he secured a comfortable single room and a piping-hot, delicious dinner.

After washing up, he and Mokona eagerly dove into the soft, inviting bed, and slept soundly until dawn.

As for the girl’s failed ambush on Killua, and the subsequent exciting match between Killua, Gon, and Chairman Netero—Kurama cared for none of it. Nothing was more important than ensuring his white companion was well-rested!

With the sunrise of a new day, the airship gently descended atop a strangely shaped tower.

Kurama knew they had arrived at the site of the third exam—

The Trick Tower.