DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hunter X Hunter

Chapter Two: Chaos in the Ship

Less than two days later, Morgan stood in line at the Lone Pier docks, watching the ship bound for Dole Harbor. The vessel still wasn't accepting passengers.

Frustration gnawed at her with every passing second. She couldn't shake the irritation building inside her. "What's taking them so long?" she muttered, the noise around her only amplifying her impatience.

Lone Pier was chaotic, a cacophony of honking cars, yelling vendors, and throngs of people. The constant movement only made her feel more jittery. Cars were honking as they fought their way through the crowd. Morgan just wanted to get on that damn ship and leave the madness behind.

Then, a voice sliced through the noise, commanding and sharp. "The only passengers allowed here are the Hunter Exam participants! Come aboard, now! I repeat, Hunter Exam participants only!"

Relief flooded through her. So that's what the hold-up was. Without missing a beat, she joined the steady flow of participants, eager to move forward.

As she approached the gangplank, she noticed the crew's surprised glances. "A girl? What's a—" one of them began.

Morgan cut him off, her tone dry and exhausted. "Yes, I'm a girl. I'm taking the Hunter Exam. I'm doing it to reunite with my old friend, the grim reaper," she said, voice flat, the usual reaction already wearing her down. "I'll just go on the boat." She brushed past them and made her way up the gangplank with purpose.

The deck was alive with the noise of passengers and crew, but Morgan didn't let it faze her. She weaved through the bustling crowd, carefully dodging crew members who were busy with their tasks. She finally found a quieter spot below deck and exhaled, relieved to escape the heat outside.

Surveying her surroundings, she noted the ship's age. The wood beneath her feet was solid but worn, the deck showing signs of years of use. She couldn't help but wonder if the captain had any plans for repairs—or if he was just letting it coast.

Shaking off the thought, she decided to focus on what she could control. "Whatever... I need some rest," she muttered, closing her eyes as she sank into a seat, hoping to steal a few moments of sleep.

As the ship set off, the gentle rocking of the ocean beneath her calmed her nerves. Despite its age, the ship glided smoothly across the water.

.

.

.

Hours passed, and the ship was swallowed by darkness. A loud group of crew members approached, their voices drawing closer.

"Well, if it isn't the young aspiring lady hunter," one of them remarked with a smirk.

Morgan bit back the urge to roll her eyes. It was the same guy from earlier, and she was growing weary of his presence. She kept her posture relaxed, one knee raised with her arm resting on it, and replied coolly, "You need something?"

Despite herself, she noticed his appearance. Mid-twenties, ruggedly handsome with long blond hair and crinkly blue eyes. His physique stretched the seams of his white shirt. For a moment, Morgan forgot her irritation, distracted by how... well put-together he was.

Her guard instinctively shot up. 'Wait, is he... flirting?' she wondered, suddenly wary.

"We'll play cards, you want?" he said with a playful grin. "I'll teach you how to play!"

Morgan's voice turned sharp, defensive. "I know how to play, old man, I just don't want to."

His crewmates burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the dimly lit room.

"He called you old!" one of them teased, the laughter growing.

"Hey, do I really seem that old?" the man joked, putting on a hurt expression as if searching for reassurance. He turned back to Morgan, the teasing tone still there. "Missy seems upset about earlier. You left in a hurry before I could apologize."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. 'Flirting. Definitely flirting.'

"Hey, mister. Are you flirting with me? 'Cause if you are, you're giving me goosebumps," she shot back, her tone laced with challenge.

He laughed, unfazed. "Oh, does it look like that? I'm not that low, you know." He feigned hurt, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, I'm just plain insulted. I just found you interesting," he added, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Unimpressed, Morgan quickly gathered her belongings and retreated to a quieter part of the boat. "Thanks... but I'm not interested," she shot back firmly.

"Shame. I was going to give some pointers," the man called after her, his voice tinged with disappointment as she walked away.

Morgan glanced over her shoulder, the comment leaving her more confused than before. His sudden shift in tone was unsettling, and as the man and his crewmates turned their backs, a creeping unease settled over her.

"Give it your all, missy," he called out one last time, his voice oddly ominous. It sent a chill down her spine.

Before she could dwell too much on his cryptic words, a loud bang echoed from above. The boat lurched violently, and Morgan barely caught her balance before nearly falling over. A burst of terrified screams filled the air, followed by the harsh clashing of weapons.

"Fantastic," Morgan muttered under her breath, frustration mounting. "Just the cherry on top of a wonderful day."

The passengers' panic spread like wildfire. Screams, shouts, and the clash of steel rang out, the chaos engulfing the deck. Morgan's mind raced. She'd heard of pirate attacks, but they were rare with naval forces patrolling these waters. The irony wasn't lost on her—of course the ship she's on would be the one in trouble.

Pushing aside the growing wave of fear, Morgan focused on what was ahead. She grabbed her sword, the familiar weight in her hands reassuring. With her cinch bag firmly strapped to her back, she readied herself. Her eyes, sharp and determined, swept the dim hallway as she braced for whatever was coming.

As she ascended the stairs, the air grew thick with smoke, the acrid scent invading her lungs. The crackle of flames reached her ears, sending another wave of urgency through her.

"Fantastic," Morgan muttered again, irritation sharp in her tone. "A fire. I'll be roasted or drowned before the exam even starts."

A figure in white shot past her, smelling like bourbon. She hesitated, but then his scream ripped through the air, stopping her cold.

Her heart raced as she sprinted down the corridor, heat smacking her like a brick wall. Another room was burning.

"Hey!" Morgan's voice cut through the noise, sharp with urgency. She scanned the chaos, looking for the man.

He reappeared, running straight at her, eyes wide with panic. She froze, heart skipping, and slammed into the wall behind her.

"Save me!" he screamed, fear thick in his voice. "Something's attacking the ship!"

Morgan's mind screamed disbelief. She was about to move when a deafening roar cut through the smoke. Her instincts took over—she spun, eyes locking on a figure in black charging toward her, a gleaming knife in hand.

"Damn!" Morgan cursed, adrenaline spiking. Without thinking, she lunged, shoving the attacker aside. She dropped to the floor, barely dodging the blade as it slashed where she'd just been.

The man didn't stop. He lunged again, undeterred. Morgan dove, using her weight to send him crashing to the ground. He writhed beneath her, momentarily disoriented.

Dizzy and smoke-clogged, Morgan scrambled to her feet, her vision blurring. The man she'd tried to save was still there, crouched in the flames. She grabbed him, pushing him toward the exit.

"Why are you still here?" she snapped, her voice hard. "Go!"

He didn't argue. As soon as she shoved him, he ran, tripping through the smoke. Morgan stayed close behind, heart pounding in her chest, each breath harder than the last.

The fire raged behind them, roaring like an animal. Morgan's stomach dropped—this wasn't just a fire. The ship was going down.

"Take the girl!" the man screamed, his voice unraveling as a new figure stepped from the smoke, eyes locked on them with deadly intent.

Without wasting a second, Morgan reacted. Her body moved on instinct, growing frustration at the lack of gratitude from those she had just saved. As the attacker rushed toward them, screaming and swinging his scimitar, Morgan met his strikes head-on, deflecting them with sharp, practiced precision.

She didn't waste time. A solid punch to his stomach knocked the wind out of him. Before he could recover, Morgan struck him with the hilt of her katana to the back of his neck. He crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold.

Looking down at the defeated attacker, a small, bitter grin tugged at Morgan's lips. "Sometimes, helping people doesn't mean much," she muttered, her words dripping with irony.

Around her, the ship was in chaos. The fire had spread, crackling louder as it tore through the boat. More black-clad figures were everywhere, attacking with no care for who they hurt.

"Are they really pirates?" Morgan wondered aloud, though there was no one around to hear.

Morgan jogged quickly, ducking her head to avoid the thick smoke as she moved.

The path to the railing was a blur of chaos. Morgan dodged fights between passengers and the attackers, her heart pounding as she sprinted toward the edge of the ship. She saw some passengers leaping over the railing to escape the madness.

She reached for the railing, ready to pull herself over, but before she could move, a sharp whoosh filled the air. A jagged sword sliced through the space where her head had been, missing her by inches, before embedding deep into the wooden railing.

Her heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, Morgan swung her katana, meeting the threat head-on. The scimitar yanked free from the wood with a swift motion and came at her again, this time dangerously close to her face. Morgan ducked and moved back, narrowly avoiding the attack.

The scimitar came down once more, aiming for her head. Morgan raised her weapon to block it, the force of the clash nearly knocking her grip loose. She crouched, dodging to the side as the blade swiped through the air where her head had been.

Standing again, she cursed under her breath. Her opponent had blocked her path to the railing, trapping her between the wall of the ship and the chaos around her. Surrounded by flames and fighting, Morgan knew she had to think fast to escape this deadly situation.

Morgan cursed under her breath.

With a snarl, he lunged forward. Morgan braced herself, sword raised to meet his strike. He swung hard, aiming for her head. Instinct kicked in as she blocked the blow with her katana. The impact sent shockwaves through their arms, both shaking from the force.

They stood locked in a deadly struggle, breaths coming in shallow bursts, bodies straining against each other's strength.

Morgan fought to hold her ground, barely keeping up as his pressure increased, his blade pushing relentlessly. Then, his scarf slipped, exposing his face.

Morgan froze, her eyes widening. "You!" she hissed, disbelief creeping into her voice as recognition hit her.

The annoying man earlier smirked, the tension in his posture easing slightly. "Guess my cover's out," he said, voice casual. "I was just in it for the thrill."

Morgan's anger flared. "What kind of sick game is this?"

He grinned wider. "It's my ship. I do what I want."

His ship. It dawned on Morgan that the man was the captain all along. No wonder he seemed to be goofing around. "Are you out of your mind? Planning to set your ship and crew ablaze?" she retorted incredulously.

"Of course not," he chuckled, waving her off. "My crew's in on it. The Hunter Exam Committee's covering damages. The ship's old anyway."

Morgan frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"The exam started the moment you boarded. They don't have the time to screen everyone, so people like me handle the... selection process." He leaned in, eyes gleaming. "You're here to prove you're worthy, missy."

Her arm trembled, but she kept her sword steady, pressing against his with every ounce of strength. He didn't budge, his gaze locked on hers, waiting—almost amused.

With a sharp grunt and a force that wrenched her shoulder, Morgan knocked his sword aside.

She sprang to her feet, blade aimed at his chest. He countered instantly, pressing the razor edge of his sword against her throat.

A stalemate.

Morgan kept still, barely breathing. He did the same. The blade at her neck was cold, too close. The ache in her stomach deepened.

They stared at each other, their breathing the only sound between them.

Then—an explosion. A crash. Flames crackled as the ship groaned under its own weight. Smoke rose fast. The masts collapsed, sparks flying. Passengers screamed, hurling themselves into the freezing waters.

Morgan exhaled sharply. "Listen, old man—" She stopped when his gaze sharpened. She swallowed before continuing. "This ship is about to explode."

"Obviously," he said, dry amusement threading his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Neither of us is lowering our sword, are we?"

"Hmm. No."

Morgan considered him, then the wreckage around them. "Truce? For now."

His lips quirked. "Ah, yes."

"Good." She lowered her katana. He followed suit, matching her movements exactly.

"Evacuate first," he said, voice annoyingly light.

Morgan smirked. "Sure. I'll deal with you later."

Morgan raced to the side of the ship, eager to escape before it blew up—or before the captain changed his mind and ran her through. He followed closely as they reached the railing. Without hesitation, they vaulted overboard, plunging into the water just as the ship erupted behind them.

The explosion's force sent a shockwave through the sea. The sound was dull, swallowed by the depths, but the pressure pushed against her ears. Kicking hard, she propelled herself away before the sinking wreck could drag her down.

She surfaced, gasping. The night air was thick with panic—shouts, splashing, the crackling remains of the ship.

"Defeat him, and then what?" she muttered, spitting out seawater. "Drown before the exam even starts?"

She could have gone on a full-blown tirade—berating herself for what happened. She truly has bad luck.

But treading water in the open ocean left little time for nagging herself. Gritting her teeth, she scanned the waves for anything solid to grab onto.

Movement caught her eye. Boats approached, cutting through the water. Crew members and black-robed figures filled them, and at the center—of course—stood the captain.

A hand reached out. Morgan hesitated, then took it, hauling herself into the boat. She thought about muttering a thanks but decided against it.

Would they keep fighting?

She tensed, but the captain just chuckled. "Relax, missy. You passed."

Morgan blinked. "But… what about our fight?"

"Let's put that behind us. You caught my interest, so you passed." He grinned. "Not often I meet someone who can keep up with me."

Cheers erupted from the crew, celebrating her "victory."

"Congrats, little miss! You passed! And only you!"

Morgan exhaled, slumping against the boat's edge. Should she feel happy? She nearly got burned alive, stabbed, and drowned.

Fantastic.

Morgan glanced around. Distant voices still carried over the waves. Her fellow passengers. What would happen to them? Left to fend for themselves?

The captain caught her expression. "Don't worry. Someone will help them. I'd rather not be responsible for a bunch of deaths."

She nodded, not entirely convinced.

He signaled to his crew. "Get some blankets or whatever we have. Give one to her."

"We'll reach Dolle Harbor by morning," the captain announced. "As a bonus, I'll personally take you to the exam site."

If this wasn't part of some elaborate joke, he could just give her directions. Why go out of his way?

And judging by how things were going, she'd only get more annoyed having him around.

"Just tell me how to get to Zaban City," she said flatly.

The crew erupted into laughter.

"That's a fancy way of saying, 'Get lost!'"

"Captain, she really doesn't like you!"

Morgan scowled. They were enjoying this way too much.

"Listen," one of the crew members said, smirking. "There's a trap on the way to Zaban City. People like us? We make sure fools don't even make it to the real exam."

"But there are navigators who can lead you there," another added.

Morgan frowned. So this was part of a larger test. A full-on pre-evaluation for the candidates.

Still… something didn't sit right.

"Okay, let's say I believe you. But how do I know you're actually working for the Hunter Exam Committee?"

The young captain stepped forward, holding up a card marked with an X. "Not a Hunter's license, but proof enough. Or do you want to dig deeper?" He grinned. "Because, missy, if we weren't who we said we were… well, with this many of us here, we'd have already done something to you."

Morgan held his gaze, then accepted the thick cloth a crew member handed her. She nodded in acknowledgment, standing to wrap it around herself. The cold still bit through, but it was better than nothing.

They said, there were navigators were stationed near the harbor to guide candidates.

And a bonus? For what? Almost burning to death?

For someone who had no reason to, the captain sure was eager to escort her. Would you blame her for being suspicious?

But whatever. "Understood."

The captain's grin widened. "Alright, folks! We'll make sure little missy gets to the exam site—soon to be a Hunter!"

The crew erupted into cheers.

It felt like she was their prized fighting rooster.

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.

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In Zaban City, the day appeared to be typical: partly cloudy skies, a wind slightly more forceful than a breeze, the air dry and just warm enough to discourage leisurely walks. It was perfectly deceptive, considering the day was anything but normal.

The streets were calm as a wooden open-air carriage pulled by a horse moved smoothly along the road. The horse, a spotted grey mare, didn't pay attention to the cars or people nearby. Its owner held the reins tightly from behind.

Of course, the mare's master is the captain of the ship. He's the one who literally escorted Morgan to Zaban.

True to their words, the buses from Dolle Harbor heading to Zaban City were indeed a trap. The bus would just go around in circles and never reach Zaban. So, they need to find the navigators to take them to the exam center.

Upon arrival of the boat in Dolle, Morgan was immediately put on a carriage. After several hours of travel, they finally arrived in Zaban City.

The captain was quite talkative and became an instant tour guide. He always had something to say or ask. Morgan could only respond with two or three words. He seemed to be amiable and carefree.

As they traveled, the captain pointed out a few beautiful fountains, but he drove them directly to their destination. He stopped in front of a majestic office building and hopped down from the front.

Morgan stepped down and looked at the towering building. "Is this it?"

The captain chuckled. "Nope."

Morgan looked at him in confusion.

He simply guided her to a modest, unremarkable restaurant next to it. Pushing open the door, they stepped inside. A stout man was busy behind the counter, serving two bowls of something hot to a couple of customers. Upon hearing the door, he offered a standard greeting, "Welcome."

Morgan understood it immediately. The Hunter Exam, with its vast number of candidates, would never be expected to be located here. The Hunter Exam Committee deliberately made it difficult for candidates to locate the exam site.

"Are there any empty rooms?"

At this, the man eyed the coachman, returning to a simmering bowl. "May I take your order?"

"I'll have the Steak Combo. Just for one, please."

The chef squinted. "How would you like it cooked?"

"Grilled slowly over a low flame," the captain smirked.

The chef nodded. "Got it. You can sit at the back."

The two moved toward the rear, attracting the attention of many restaurant patrons, with whispers circulating around. They could have been gossiping about various topics.

They arrived at a room in the back. He gestured for her to enter. The girl paused, as usual, to assess the situation before stepping inside.

"Missy."

She turned around.

"Good luck. Most rookies don't make it on their first try, but you will, won't you?"

"I will," Morgan responded. 'I have to.'

"Yeah, well, I hope you survive to do so. My crew and I were really impressed by you. We'll be rooting for you!"

She nodded. "Thank you for your assistance, captain."

"...I can't say I'd love to see you again, but if it happens, I'm willing to be your escort."

She nodded again, and he closed the door. Morgan took a seat at the table. A minute after Morgan had taken her seat, the elevator began to move.