Chapter 31: What an Annoying Fellow
Elsewhere, in a room within Trick Tower.
The Path of Voting—from this point until the end, you five must proceed according to the principle of majority rule.
"Five timers have been prepared, each with 'Yes' and 'No' buttons. That means we're still missing one person..."
Kurapika put on his timer, looked at Gon and the others, and said, "Until the last person arrives, none of us can leave."
As soon as he finished speaking.
A broadcast suddenly echoed through the room.
"You're right. In this tower, we've prepared several routes, each with different passage conditions."
"Yours is the Path of Voting—individual opinions will not be accepted!"
"This is a difficult path that absolutely requires mutual support. We hope you can reach the end through your efforts."
After these words, the speaker fell silent.
Gon and the others could only sit in the room, anxiously waiting for the final person to descend.
Time ticked by.
Watching the timer count down, Leorio was nearing his limit.
"It's been almost two hours! Everyone else must have already left through other routes. Is there really still someone up there?"
No sooner had he spoken.
A section of the floor above suddenly reacted.
The moment it opened, a figure tumbled down awkwardly, crashing heavily onto the ground.
"Madman, that guy is a complete madman!" The newcomer kept muttering, his face full of fear.
Gon and the others turned to look and realized the last person was actually Tonpa!
But Tonpa was clearly still shaken and terrified.
"If I hadn't already found a hidden door and managed to hide in time, that earlier strike would have killed me." Tonpa gasped for breath, his eyes still harboring deep fear even after escaping.
...
Watching Tonpa flee in disarray and eventually disappear through the floor's hidden door, Mord shook his head with a light laugh.
"As expected, the so-called Four Great Gods from online rumors in my past life were all fake."
"Great God, don't disappoint me like Tonpa did."
Mord opened his right hand, and a Zanpakutō slowly materialized in his grasp.
"Crush him, Gegetsuburi!"
As the release command was spoken.
The Zanpakutō in Mord's hand underwent a dramatic transformation—the hilt remained unchanged, but the blade morphed into a large meteor hammer attached to a chain.
"Let's see your devastating power, buddy!" Mord roared, swinging the meteor hammer and smashing it violently against the floor beneath him.
"Boom!"
The floor of the platform exploded as if made of paper, debris flying everywhere, dust and dirt swirling. When the dust settled, a large hole had appeared.
It worked!
Mord's eyes lit up. Although the stone slab was thick, it was ultimately made of ordinary material. If he couldn't even break this, it would have been too disappointing.
Mord glanced down into the hole—it led to a room. He leaped down lightly.
The door in the room was already open. Mord looked up and read.
The Path of Silence.
Examinees are forbidden from speaking or communicating throughout. Violators will be considered failures.
He wondered who had taken this path. An image surfaced in Mord's mind—Illumi would probably be quite suited for it. Maintaining his "Nail Monster" form meant he didn't need to speak anyway.
Mord had no intention of taking that path, of course. Instead, he continued swinging his meteor hammer, smashing through the floorboards.
And so he went—smashing and leaping his way down.
Occasionally, he encountered bottomless chasms beneath the floor. In such cases, he simply took a few extra steps and smashed a different spot.
Sometimes traps were triggered, but none posed any threat to the current Mord.
...
"How much longer until the examinees arrive? I'm growing impatient."
In a pitch-black room, five figures clad in burlap, their wrists shackled, sat against the wall. One of them voiced his complaint.
They were all prisoners confined within this Trick Tower, temporarily hired by the Hunter Association as examiners. Their agreement stipulated that for every hour they delayed an examinee, one year would be deducted from their sentence.
In other words, they could reduce their imprisonment by up to 72 years.
While the one who spoke was restless and complaining, the other four remained as calm as seasoned anglers, clearly accustomed to high-stakes situations.
Boom!
Just then, a thunderous crash echoed as the ceiling above them shattered to pieces.
They scrambled to their feet, dodging the falling debris.
Only one unfortunate soul failed to react in time. By sheer bad luck, he was directly beneath the collapsing rubble and was instantly buried alive.
There was no doubt he was dead.
"Finally, some living people."
A voice drifted down from above.
Everyone looked up to see a figure leap down. As the dust settled, they could finally make out the newcomer's appearance.
It was a young man holding a spiked ball, with short, dark hair and casual attire. He was scrutinizing them with a critical gaze.
"Who are you?" one of the prisoners demanded loudly, turning toward the room's surveillance camera and adding, "Warden, what's going on here?"
Meanwhile.
In the central control room of the entire Trick Tower, where every move within the tower could be monitored, a man with a purple punk hairstyle, glasses, and a sharp, rodent-like face sat before countless display screens. Watching the scene unfold, he viciously crunched the potato chips in his hand.
He, too, wanted to know just what this guy was up to!
This man was the chief examiner of the third phase of the exam and also the warden of the Trick Tower prison—Hunter Lippo.
Standing behind him were two others: a bald, burly man and a wild-looking man clad in a vest made from the hide of an unknown beast, his face covered in scars.
Both were also Hunters, assisting him in managing the prison.
Lippo had been monitoring Mord through the surveillance feeds ever since he started smashing his way down from the tower's peak.
He wanted to intervene and stop him but had no justification to do so.
The exam rules he had set only required examinees to reach the bottom of the tower within 72 hours, with no additional restrictions.
In other words, there was no rule stating that examinees had to follow the prearranged paths.
Lippo wasn't worried about the prisoners escaping through the holes Mord had created—those openings only led back to the tower's peak, which was pointless. The only way out of this prison was downward, and the lower levels were guarded by absolute force.
There was no chance these prisoners would escape alive.
What pained him was the cost. All the floors damaged by Mord would need repairs, and that would mean a significant budget allocation.
Maintaining the daily operations of Trick Tower Prison itself already required a huge amount of money. If it weren't for the Hunter Association's support over the years, life would likely have been even tougher.
"What an annoying brat!" Lippo stared at the handsome face on the display screen, clearly furious.
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