GUIDELINE : This story engage you to be the first person P.O.V in 'you' format, keep it mind of who you are in this story as follows

You are Myson, a 15 year old girl with pink hair and black eyes.

You like to rock a pair of dr martens, bright colored shirts, chromatic jackets and plaids, lots of plaids and stockings.

You're an anxious character, you occasionally trip on your way to the mall entrance, you fondle your boobs when no one is looking.

You are an artist and handy on hand to hand combat. You are a specialization nen user with an ability to imitate the power of greek gods within several conditions.

You love listening to Jimmi Hendrix and Taylor Swift.

(Probable you on Killua action, but on that in the next chapter, enjoy and please review :] )

It was a bright sunny day, the committee had insisted on you to be one of the examiner in the 30 something annual Hunter Exam but you refused. You look at your calendar, its been two days since the last day of the exam. No one have inform you about the final verdict, you don't mind though. Not like I care, you snort. Examining are for wusses, its weird people actually consider me interested in participating. Things like that always happens, though flattering you prefer to go on your independent path.

You remember your Hunter Exam, you were 13 back then. You just got out your moms house and decided to become a hunter on a whim, you feel it's the best option if you want to finance yourself. Your dad was a judo expert and you learn one or two tricks from him. You gotten into a lot of fights in your childhood due to the majority of kids living in your neighborhood; most of them are sons of martial artists or cops.

You got a lot in your plate, you sulk. Your art gallery is in a few weeks, you just moved into a new apartment at York Shin. You throw yourself on a green bean bag and instantly fall in a deep slumber.

Afterwards you deprive yourself day after day; get up early every morning and work at your studio, giving finishing touches and choose the ones that will hang in the gallery. It's a captivating work, and also tends to easily wears you off. One night just two days till the big art gallery you decided to go out for the first time in weeks to have a cup of coffee at a nearby shop. You put your boots and head to the door.

Your hands are inside the pockets of your sweatshirt, you let your hair gently caress half of your face due to the dry windy street on 23th avenue. You realize potential danger is everywhere; Genei Ryodan is that what they call themselves? A little bird told you they roam freely in the streets of York Shin this very moment. It frightens some of the mob participating in the prestigious auction held in the darker avenue of York Shin. You're alert, you're ready for some danger, maybe too ready. Excitement arises in your abdominal, you haven't been in battle for ages. Maybe this will take the edge off after frustrating so much on your paintings...

"JAA! Come on, the one who could beat this kid on an arm wrestle, will get this genuine diamond ring!"

Shouting people follows the man infectious monologue, you hear a queue aligning. You find hundreds of muscular men waving their money in the air waiting for the chance to beat a 12 year old kid sitting on a wooden box. His face looks as innocent as fresh dew, he smiles politely at the incoming participator. "20.000 jenny!" A curly haired man proclaim arrogantly, throws his money on the table, bend his elbow. A slight grimace went across the promoters face. He corrects the position of his John Lennon glasses, "Ready?"

People cheered hysterically for the curly haired man but BAM. In split seconds his hand is already on the other side, the little kid won.

"WOOO!" Said another young boy in front of the crowd, clapping for his friend. His platinum blond hair waves ever so softly while he does his cheerful dance of pride. Even under the dim street light, you could see the twinkle of the ring diamond he is holding. Participator gaze on the box intently. "ME, ME!"

You cut the line, ignoring angry remarks behind you and push aside a broad shoulder man on the front line fairly easily. Your steps are wobbly and you almost fall flat on your stomach but you quickly stand straight, blushing. "Can I go first?"

They look at each other, confuse. "Here." I pull out some money from my pocket, spread it on the table. I could drink coffee some other time, "50.000 jenny, what do you say?"

Promoter man nodded, "Well, well, well! If it isn't our first lady competitor! Could she beat the legendary Gon Freecs in arm wrestle to the death? Okay young miss, what's your name?"

"Stop flirting you pervert!" Shout one of the participator not too far from him. He pouts but give hand signals that I and Gon, the fresh face youngster could proceed.

We clasp our hands together, his tan hand a slight smaller than yours, firm and warm. You know this kid works out. His handsome buddy is giving him eye signals while putting the diamond behind him.

"BEGIN!"