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Hunter x Hunter: The Sun Breathing Zoldyck - 105
🕑 Added 2025-11-11 20:13:51 +0000 UTCChapter 105: Battle Royale × Welcome to the Real Hunter World
“Looks like this year will be more interesting than the last.”
Old Captain Mark Seam noticed the branch slung over Roy’s shoulder and, for a moment, thought of someone else—someone who also loved to fish.
On their first meeting, that man had a rod over his shoulder too, with a red bead at the tip. He was the only one to pass that year’s test. If memory served, his name was Ging Freecss.
Mark Seam still faintly remembered the name.
“Welcome, welcome, Roy Zoldyck. We meet again.”
A round of clapping broke out as Pariston spread his arms and walked up smiling to greet Roy aboard.
Roy ignored him, walked straight past, found a spot at the bow, sat cross-legged, flicked his rod, and kept fishing—tempering his Nen.
Still water was not the same as the open sea. The moving Sea God made fishing far more difficult. Roy sat as steady as a reef, subtly swaying with the ship. Behind him stood Gotoh, silent and facing the crowd, quietly guarding his back.
“Hehe… Little Hill got ignored again.” First the freak… now a Zoldyck…
Clark glanced back over the blue, unbroken horizon. Not a ripple, no trace of the freak. He was just wondering if the guy had drowned when a hand suddenly gripped the rail and a soaked figure hauled itself up.
Illumi saw it too. The blond one was staring at Big Brother.
Why were his arms open? Was he… going to hug him?
“Danger!” A cold prickle ran up Pariston’s nape. He turned and met a pair of empty eyes.
This freak.
Creak… creak… The freak slid down to sit by the rail and, noticing Pariston’s gaze, calmly closed his eyes—as if to say, out of sight, out of mind.
The thin bodyguard Goh sensed something off and murmured, “This one is strange.”
Pariston held Illumi’s gaze for a long beat, then shrugged. “Which is precisely why it’s fun.”
Roy Zoldyck was here. Nothing else mattered. He took Clark and Goh and found a place to sit as well.
Seeing everyone present, Captain Mark Seam clapped his hands and had his first mate, Gus, haul out a chest. He swept the deck with his eyes and shouted, “Eyes on me!”
“Everyone, take a number tag and put it on!”
Dozens of looks swung over. Gus, sporting a red headscarf, flipped the chest and spilled out a heap of tags—white base, black numbers, with a small red button on the side. A rough glance said there were at least a hundred.
“What’s this for? Registering exam numbers?” The bald ninja flickered forward first, grabbed a tag, and, curious, moved to press the red button—only for Captain Mark Seam to bark him to a halt.
“If you want to get eliminated right now, by all means, press it.” Mark Seam puffed smoke from his pipe. The bald ninja’s hand shook so hard he nearly dropped the tag.
“So serious? Old man, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Yusuke snapped.
As an elite jōnin of the Hidden Cloud style from Jappon, if he got tossed before even reaching the official exam venue, he’d never live it down. If his master found out, he’d have him commit seppuku. It would be beyond disgrace.
“Hmph. Say it sooner?” Mark Seam’s gaze cut around the deck, voice rising. “Don’t think boarding the ship means you get to loaf!”
“Here’s your reminder: the moment you set foot on this deck, the Hunter Exam began!”
“If you’re banking on luck, quit now!”
“We came all this way—who the hell is quitting? Old man, hurry up and say what we’re doing!” someone shouted, impatient.
“Very good.” Mark Seam took a tag, held it up, and showed it around. “Each tag equals one point. My phase is simple. It’s called a Points Scramble.”
“Before we arrive at the official exam venue on Dolley Island, whoever has the most points wins.”
He paused, narrowed his eyes at the crowd, and raised one finger. “Top ten only.”
No. That wasn’t it.
“You’re telling us to kill each other!” someone snapped. Points Scramble?
It was calling for everyone present to fight until only ten were left.
The outcry rippled across the deck. Yusuke, the snake handler, the bow-backed boy, the Kurta girl… Kite, Gotoh—everyone turned. Mark Seam chuckled deeply and took a hard pull on his pipe. “Which is why we thoughtfully gave you a surrender button.”
He pressed the red button on the tag. It let out a sharp chirp. He smirked. “If you can’t take it, surrender. We’ll intervene.”
“Of course, once you press it…”
He cut his eyes to Yusuke. “You lose your exam status.”
A sea breeze washed across the deck and carried the noise away.
Pages rustled. The Kurta girl’s voice broke the hush. “As far as I know, it’s not normally this harsh. Even last year, mass eliminations didn’t happen until we reached the official venue.”
“You said it yourself—normally,” Mark Seam replied coolly. “Each year has its own rules. If you’re unhappy, file a complaint with the Association.”
“In any case, orders from above. Don’t pin it on me,” he added silently to himself.
“Then there’s nothing more to say.” After the hotheaded bald ninja, Pariston stepped up first, took number 1, and pinned it to his chest. He scanned the deck, letting his gaze rest on Roy for a breath, and smiled thinly.
“I fully support the Association’s decision. Trash should be cleared out early, so it doesn’t stain the Association’s name.”
“That guy again!” Donovan’s pulpy end was still fresh in memory. Yusuke, the snake handler, the bow-backed boy, the bandaged man glared, seething but silent. Only after Pariston, Clark, and Goh took their tags and stepped aside did they come up, take tags in turn, and slip off to hide.
Midway, a scream split the air. Someone at the back saw the tag in the hand ahead, darted close, stabbed him in the kidney, snatched the tag, and bolted.
A blade thrown into still water. One knife started the killing.
“Welcome to the real Hunter world.” Mark Seam watched the white blade come out red and told Gus and the crew to intervene immediately if they heard a surrender chirp. Then he turned for the captain’s room and shut the door behind him.
Age had left him with no stomach for blood. The folks upstairs… They couldn’t spare a thought for an old man.
He slumped into his chair, closed his eyes, and dozed, leaving a shipful of candidates to stage a bedraggled battle royale in the pit.
Whoosh. A throwing knife flashed across the deck—straight for Roy.
