Chapter 68 – The Absurd Sushi Exhibition
"I'm confident! Vinegared rice topped with fresh fish—what else could nigiri sushi possibly be?
Form it by hand—that's exactly what Osren said!"
Leorio performed his final "hand-pressing" motion with theatrical flourish.
His confidence was about to explode—he was sure he would pass.
"Alright, done!"
He placed his creation on a plate, covered it, and proudly marched toward Menchi.
"I'm the first to finish!
This is the Leorio Special Premium Nigiri!
Go on—try it!"
He lifted the lid.
Menchi, who had been hopeful—because this was Osren's teammate—instantly regretted that optimism.
Her expression froze.
"…What is this?"
Leorio had taken the perfectly sliced fish Osren prepared…
and slapped each full sheet onto a giant palm-sized rice brick.
It looked like a fish blanket smothering a rice boulder.
Menchi's eye twitched.
Her expectations collapsed like wet paper.
"My temper… I swear…"
She flipped the plate with one hand.
"You call this edible?"
Her temple throbbed visibly.
Her disappointment was proportional to her earlier hope—massive.
"HEY! Why'd you throw it away?!"
Leorio exploded.
His beloved 'masterpiece' flying through the air was too much.
Menchi snarled back,
"Aren't you afraid of being eliminated?!"
She inhaled, remembering she still owed Osren face.
Her voice weakened.
"…Just… go redo it."
"Tch… Damn it!"
Leorio stomped back to his station.
He wanted to ask Osren for help, but that would basically be cheating.
---
Next Up—Gon
"Alright, my turn!"
Gon beamed with confidence as he passed Leorio.
He placed his plate before Menchi.
Click.
The lid opened.
Menchi felt her sanity drop a level.
Inside the plate sat…
a perfect, glossy, round fish-ball.
A fish-wrapped rice orb.
A sashimi sphere.
Menchi's mouth twitched.
"…A BALL."
She flipped the plate with dead eyes.
"This is no better than Candidate 403's disaster."
Gon trudged back, shocked.
"I'm at Leorio's level…?"
Kurapika patted his shoulder kindly.
"I understand your pain."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
Leorio barked, somehow offended without knowing why.
More examinees queued up with their 'sushi'.
"Bring them up, quickly!"
Menchi urged, bracing for incoming trauma.
Osren pressed his palm to the rice, testing the temperature.
Finally—cool enough.
Time to begin.
He noticed Kurapika and Killua hadn't gone up yet either.
Both wore expressions of utter defeat.
Right…
He had completely forgotten that these kids were born in the Hunter world—
of course they'd never seen sushi before.
Of course their creations would turn into spherical crimes against cuisine.
Osren sighed.
He cleared his throat loudly.
"Ahem! AHEM!"
The four boys immediately turned toward him.
"Osren? You sick?" Gon asked, worried.
All three others stared so intently it was like they were trying to read his soul.
Osren rubbed his throat.
"No, no. I'm just… preparing to start making my sushi."
He gave a tiny wink.
The boys stared at him for one second.
Then—
"Ah."
They understood.
Eyes sharpened, bodies straightened.
They leaned in, pretending to continue working—
—but really?
They were about to copy Osren's every move.
The real sushi lesson was about to begin.
Osren planned to make only one sushi—
If Menchi ate too many and got full, she'd have no appetite left for the other examinees.
And if they failed because of him, that would be exactly the kind of tragedy he wanted to avoid:
"I did not kill the innocent… yet the innocent died because of me.
What a sin, what a sin."
With that thought, he took up his knife.
In one clean stroke, he sliced the palm-sized fillet right down the center, cutting out a perfect piece—about 8 cm long and 4 cm wide.
With his right hand, he scooped just the right amount of rice and shaped it into a small rectangular block.
With his left, he dipped the fish slice lightly in seasoning, then pressed it together with the rice.
His motions were smooth and practiced; the whole thing took less than a minute.
He placed the finished nigiri gently onto the plate prepared earlier.
"I'm done. You guys should hurry too."
"Mm-hm! We'll be finished soon!"
Gon and the others exchanged knowing smiles and jumped back into action, confidence restored.
Now that they understood what "proper sushi" was, they were sure they'd pass.
---
Meanwhile… Menchi's Patience Was Dying:
"Wrong.
Next."
Menchi lifted a lid, scowled, and flipped the dish.
Then another.
And another.
Every plate she opened met the same fate.
"Wrong.
Next."
Her voice had become pure muscle memory—almost automatic.
She looked like she had aged ten years in five minutes.
"Just what is this elegant dish called nigiri sushi…? Truly worth witnessing…"
Satotz had relocated from the treetop to the inner gate of the cooking hall to spectate more comfortably.
It was the perfect viewing spot.
Behind him stood a cluster of Human-Faced Apes, all watching with equal interest.
Among them was even one with Leorio's face—
…a pity Osren wasn't around to see that.
---
Back to Menchi:
"Wrong.
Next!"
Menchi flipped yet another plate, impatience written clearly between her eyebrows.
Osren, standing at the very end of the line, noticed that Hisoka—who had been somewhere in the middle—had silently stepped out of line and exited the room altogether.
Who knew where he'd gone.
The examinees began whispering among themselves.
"Did that brat purposely mislead us earlier…?"
"Maybe that was his strategy—to reduce the number of competitors…"
With each failed attempt, more and more eyes drifted toward Osren.
Their gazes carried all sorts of unspoken suspicion.