DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hunter X Hunter

Chapter 8: Beauty and the Freak

"I'll go next," Kurapika and Morgan said in unison. Morgan shot him a challenging look, raising an eyebrow, and Kurapika mirrored the gesture.

"Ladies first!" Morgan declared, swiftly moving towards the edge where the metal bridge extended. "Any objections?"

"No…" Kurapika's expression was less than thrilled, but he stepped back.

"You can do it, Morgan!" Gon cheered as soon as the bridge connected to the arena. She simply waved a hand at them before proceeding.

Just like the previous criminals, her opponent removed his cloak, revealing a tall man who exuded an air of elegance even in his prison uniform. It was unclear how he managed that, but he definitely had a different kind of presence.

With olive-colored skin and military-style bleached-blond hair, he stood before her. Unlike the bulky man before, this one was leaner but still possessed noticeable muscles. "Hi, I'm Dether," he introduced himself.

Her eyes scanned him from head to toe, sizing him up.

Damn.

He looks...

'Good. Handsome. Fit.'

She mentally slapped herself.

But...

'Still a criminal. He could kill me with those well-toned hands.'

The man chuckled, as if he knew all too well her reaction. "Looks like I still have my charm." Morgan made a smug face. Even his voice sounded beautiful for a man. The world was unfair to lavish all the graces of good genes on him. "What's a cute teenage girl doing here in the exam?"

Morgan shrugged. "I'm just here to waste some time. Figured the exam would be as good a place as any."

Dether laughed this time. She just noticed that he was carrying a writing clipboard. "I like you already."

With a watchful gaze fixed on her opponent, she arched a brow. "So, what do you propose?"

Seated on the hard floor, he slid a clipboard towards her, revealing a few clipped bond papers. She couldn't help but wonder about their purpose. Were they going to use them as weapons?

Dether remained composed. "My challenge is straightforward. We each write down something that must be followed. If you can accomplish mine and I fail yours, then you win. If we both succeed, we repeat the process until one of us loses."

She stared at him, skeptical of his proposition.

Who did he think he was fooling?

Morgan held up her hand, signaling for him to pause before adding any further nonsense. "Hold up, Johnny Bravo. You could write down something like 'kill myself,' right? Do you really think I'm that naive to accept your challenge?!"

He remained impassive, even running his hands through his hair in a way that seemed almost like he was posing for a magazine. "Look, unlike others, I don't harm people—especially girls and kids. I'm not sentenced for murder, rape, or serial bombing. I'm convicted for smuggling massive historical artifacts."

"Archeological theft? You're stealing antiquities and artifacts?" Morgan questioned.

"Yeah, you could say that," he replied casually.

"What did you steal?"

"Oh, a lot. Artifacts worth billions," he answered vaguely. "That means, I'm not interested in your life. But if you don't believe me, then let's add something. Writing something that can endanger our lives is prohibited. Both parties should remain unharmed—no wounds, fractures, scratches, or bruises. Whoever fails to comply will have to jump into the abyss. Is that acceptable?" he suggested.

Morgan regarded him suspiciously. But then again, to avoid wasting time, she had to agree. "Fine. I accept."

"Morgan, hold on! Don't act impulsively!" Leorio's voice rang out, but she brushed it aside.

"Good," he said, a smirk playing on his lips, revealing those infuriatingly perfect white teeth that Morgan fantasized about punching. "Your assignment is inside. Just follow the instructions. There's no time limit," he added with a hum.

Morgan picked up the clipboard and flipped to the first page.

Her jaw dropped. It was a picture.

The image depicted a flat, intricately sculpted stone surface. Figures were carved into it, arranged in a grid-like pattern divided into five pieces, resembling a jigsaw puzzle. Each piece varied in size and was composed of different triangles and quadrilaterals.

At the top center, an intricately carved moon adorned the scene. To the left, a figure of a man emerged, adorned with a heavy beaded necklace and a feathered headdress, gazing toward the center. On the right, another man's figure upper torso faced a different direction, partially disrobed, with its lower body completing the adjacent piece below.

The final piece depicted a sculpted square or box-like shape, resembling a stone table.

Yet, Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that something crucial was absent. Just above the square sculpture, a missing part marred the puzzle.

"What did he give you, Morgan?" Gon's voice interrupted her thoughts, drawing her attention back.

Above the image, instructions taunted her: "Guess what's inside the missing part?"

"Just a fun fact: that's the last artifact I stole from a historical site. It was whole when I took it. I had plans to sell it to a collector in York New. Unfortunately, I got caught, and the item was returned to its original location. When they tried to reassemble it, they discovered a missing piece. They wanted me to confess its whereabouts, but why would I ever tell them? I'll carry that secret to my grave," Dether recounted. "Then, I had this sudden idea to make it a challenge for anyone I face. So, what do you think is depicted in that final piece of the relief?"

As he finished speaking, a chime echoed through the room, and the large flat monitor beside the arena displayed the same image printed on the paper.

"So, my team could see it too... perhaps," she mused.

"You're cheating! How could she possibly know that?! She might not even recognize what the picture means!" Leorio protested.

Dether glanced back at Leorio. "It doesn't matter if she's unfamiliar with the relief. She just needs to analyze the image and provide an answer."

"I believe I know what this is," Morgan interjected, capturing everyone's attention. "This relief depicts a Champaca sacrificial ceremony. The square sculpture represents an altar, with the missing piece likely sitting atop it. The figures in the relief are Champacans, performing sacrifices to their moon god. So, the real question is: what's depicted on top of the altar?"

The man let out a low whistle. "Impressive. But how can you be certain it's from the Champaca civilization?"

"The style of the sculptures. It matches what I've seen in books," Morgan replied confidently.

A look of astonishment crossed his face. "Just from a book?"

"Even if we know that, we're still uncertain about the specific item," Kurapika pointed out, a sentiment Morgan echoed.

"Then why don't you all take a guess? Ultimately, this girl will provide the final answer. You can assist her in brainstorming if you'd like," he suggested, a smirk playing on his lips. "So, any ideas yet? Take your time."

They were being tested, that much was clear. Morgan had to approach this challenge carefully. There was undoubtedly a hidden trap, evident in his willingness to let her companions contribute to the answer.

'Think... Think...'

"Heart or a human sacrifice. Given their devotion to their moon god, it's a plausible answer," Kurapika suggested.

Blonde was onto something. Considering their cultural traditions, it was entirely possible that one of those could be the answer.

"How about animals? People back then often sacrificed them, and any part of the body could be used. Maybe even the brain," Killua suggested.

"They typically only sacrificed human bodies or just the heart," Morgan corrected him.

"Then that settles it! We'll stick to those two options and choose carefully," Leorio added.

"Ah, excellent teamwork," the prisoner commended. "Now, miss, you've narrowed it down to two options. And as a small reward for your efforts, you're all correct. They indeed sacrificed both the heart and the body. Now, it's decision time: O for heart and X for body."

Morgan remained unconvinced. Upon further thought, the heart seemed the more plausible answer. The missing piece appeared too small to depict a human body.

But is it really the right answer?

"Morgan, don't rush! Take your time to decide. We'll go with whatever you choose," Gon urged.

"No need for that," she replied.

"Oh?" The prisoner raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

Morgan closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "I've made my decision."

"And what might that be? Cast your vote for the answer."

As her eyes reopened, they bore into his with a fierce intensity, signaling that she had seen through his carefully laid trap. "How long do you plan to deceive me? Both choices you presented are fundamentally flawed."

The prisoner's expression remained impassive as he shrugged. "And how can you be so sure? You've never laid eyes on the relief before, have you?"

"The missing piece isn't a 'heart' or a 'human'," she insisted.

"Hmm, elaborate," he prompted.

She took a deep breath. "The figure with the headdress is a priest, right? He's facing the moon, positioned at the top center. But the figure on the right is facing a different direction. What could he possibly be looking at?" She grinned confidently, sensing the tide turning in her favor.

"So? What does that have to do with the missing piece?" he inquired.

"Everything!" Morgan exclaimed, folding the paper in her hands. She then carefully tore the paper along the lines of the relief's pieces. "Here are the five pieces of the relief." She began rearranging the paper fragments. "We risk losing sight of the true form when we rely solely on initial assumptions. But if you arrange it like this, both figures are looking at the same thing."

The shape of the relief transformed into a vertical rectangle as Morgan adjusted the pieces. "Now, the half-naked man is also facing the moon," she began. "From the beginning, the relief was complete. You knew that because you assembled it immediately after stealing it. My hunch is, you dismantled it before you could deliver it. When you were apprehended and the relief was examined by experts, it was incorrectly reassembled. There's nothing yet on the altar because the sacrifice hadn't occurred. The answer is 'nothing'."

He stared at her in disbelief, then erupted into a series of applause, whistles, and cheers. "Absolutely brilliant! You're clearly the first one to deduce it correctly."

"It's just like what happened with that old lady in the deserted village!" Gon chimed in. "Presenting us with a challenging answer when the real one is silence."

"Yeah, I really despise mind games," Leorio added.

"Isn't that just because you're stupid?" Killua quipped.

"What was that, you little brat?!" Leorio retorted, his temper flaring.

"Well, even though he blurted out the answer unknowingly, it was still a close call," Kurapika remarked.

Despite their banter, Morgan struggled to relate. "Why did you lie about hiding the last piece?" she asked.

"And here I thought you were clever," he sighed, shaking his head. "I'm a thief. I steal things, not inform people about them. It's not my fault they couldn't figure it out. So, are you going to waste your time asking questions? I have all the time in the world to get to know you better," he said in a low, flirtatious tone, accompanied by a smirk.

Morgan recoiled. "No... I'm single, but not looking to mingle."

He chuckled at her reaction. "Your move now. You can ask questions or present me with a case or puzzle to solve. It's up to you. Take your time."

Morgan was determined to challenge him with something truly difficult. She pondered various options, contemplating puzzles or code-breaking tasks. However, if he could effortlessly infiltrate heavily guarded museums and retrieve artifacts, decoding passwords and hacking systems would likely be child's play for him.

She needed something far more challenging.

Detaching a pen from its holder, Morgan glanced around, ensuring there were no hidden CCTV cameras. Call it paranoia or caution, but she needed to be certain. Flipping through the pages, she delved into deep thought.

Three minutes passed.

Ten minutes elapsed.

Fifteen minutes slipped away.

Twenty minutes in, beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

"You look rather serious. Twenty minutes have already flown by. Please, go easy on me," he remarked in a carefree manner.

Taking a deep breath, Morgan flipped back to the first page. "If you can complete what's on this paper, you'll earn a point," she declared as she slid the board back to the prisoner.

He chuckled confidently as he reached for the board. "I'm intrigued. I wonder what—" His voice trailed off abruptly as his eyes scanned the paper.

She observed his teammates, who looked equally puzzled.

"Now what?" Leorio asked, breaking the silence.

Bling!

Morgan smirked as she glanced back, noting the number 'two' illuminated on their score screen.

"Huh?!" Most of her teammates exclaimed, their heads tilting back to check their current score points.

"What—how?" Leorio asked, his confusion evident.

Her enemy burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.

"Now, I'm curious to see what she wrote," Killua remarked.

"You got me there, girl! You've impressed me! I'll be rooting for you in the exam!" he cheered. "And hey, if you ever feel lonely, you'll always have a spot in my cell." He winked suggestively.

Morgan's expression fell as she stood up and walked back to her group.

Their faces still bore expressions of bewilderment. Not even a cheer greeted her victory. "I've found more cheer in a graveyard. What's with your faces? I won, guys."

"Of course, we're happy..." Leorio greeted first.

"What did you write?" Gon asked, wearing his signature beaming smile as he offered a high five. "Nice win!"

"I wrote 'don't read this sentence.' Since it's impossible to complete the task without reading the instructions first, right?" she replied, reciprocating Gon's high five. "Thanks."

"Just that? But it took you twenty minutes," Kurapika remarked.

"That's nothing. It was all part of the act," she stated, feeling a bit proud of fooling her teammates. "I finished before three minutes were up. After that, I just pretended to be working on something complex."

Gon laughed. "You're amazing, Morgan! You're so smart! If it were me, I would've lost the round."

It wasn't the first time she'd received a compliment, but she felt her cheeks warm slightly. "Not really. The truth is, I couldn't think of anything else. That man was probably thinking he could win. Fortunately, I answered correctly."

Leorio chuckled.

"That was impressive." Kurapika praised.

Coming from Kurapika, it was an unusual compliment. "Well, thanks."

"So, who's next?" Killua interjected.

This prompted Kurapika to step forward. "I guess it's my turn."

His opponent, named Majitani, was serving a 108-year sentence for various crimes, including fraud and blackmail.

Beneath his gray cloak was a muscular body with an unusual blue skin tone. His face appeared distorted, as if he had undergone cheap plastic surgery. His left eye lacked eyelids and remained open, while his right eye was narrowed and surrounded by a purple—or possibly black—circle. His face bore a stitch, and he was noseless, with only six teeth visible. Nineteen hearts were tattooed across his chest.

He let out a piercing cry followed by a sinister laugh. "I'm next!"

"What a bizarre appearance..." Leorio muttered, his eyes wide.

"And his face..." Killua added, equally taken aback.

"I have a wild guess about his crime," Morgan suddenly interjected, her gaze fixed on the blue-skinned freak.

"What?" asked Killua, intrigued.

"Maybe he was scammed. He killed the quack doctor who performed the plastic surgery that made him look like an ugly version of Frankenstein," she proposed.

Leorio and Killua exchanged bewildered looks.

"Frankenstein was never good-looking to begin with," Leorio pointed out, eyeing her as if she had lost her mind.

"I know. What I meant is he's even uglier than Frankenstein," Morgan clarified matter-of-factly.

"Your way of thinking is something else," Killua remarked.

"But it's not impossible, right? If it were me, I'd probably want to burn the doctor alive," Morgan continued.

"Tsss. Whatever," Killua muttered, clearly disinterested in continuing the conversation.

"Look here!" the blue-skinned man suddenly exclaimed, pointing to his chest where the tattoos were located. "I've killed nineteen people, but it bugs me that nineteen is such an uneven number," he grinned. "I'm so glad I've gotten to meet number 20."

They couldn't see Kurapika's reaction; he remained still, his posture calm and composed.

"Now we have a serial killer," Leorio grimaced.

On impulse, Morgan's eyes scanned Killua's visible skin. Did assassins also have tattoos? His skin looked neat and smooth, even for a boy, which was like a slap in the face for her. It was annoying.

Did assassins have a skincare routine or something?

"What are you doing?" Killua asked, clearly aware of her actions.

Well, they were standing close to each other, so of course, it would be noticeable.

"Nothing," she replied, still fixated on his bare skin.

The young assassin grew annoyed. "Stop doing that. You're freaking me out. And just so you know, we don't do that kind of stupid stuff," he said. "If you keep it up, I'll start thinking you're a creepy pervert."

His words earned him a glare. "Hmp!" Morgan huffed and rolled her eyes, deciding to redirect her attention to the blonde's fight.

"I insist that we put our lives on the line. I won't accept some half-assed contest," Majitani declared, his laughter sounding like that of a madman. "Blood! Entrails! Agony!"

"Very well. You can decide how we settle this contest. I'll agree to your choice," Kurapika replied calmly.

Was this some kind of act, or was the blonde just not affected by Majitani's antics? Watching from the sidelines, the contrast in their physical appearances was stark; one direct hit could easily knock Kurapika off balance.

"In that case, I also propose a death match. However, don't expect me to stop when you surrender and beg for your life!" Majitani continued, laughing maniacally at his own statement.

And this blue-skinned man... He was trying so hard to look frightening, laughing like some evil overlord, which only served to diminish his intimidation factor.

"Very well. I accept," Kurapika responded, still unfazed. He removed his tabard and tossed it aside.

Majitani's laughter paused momentarily as he looked bewildered by his opponent's composed demeanor.

'That was awkward. He got snubbed, actually seen-zoned. No effect. Nada. Zero.'

"Hold it! No weapons allowed!" Majitani added, laying down more rules. "We'll beat each other to death with our fists."

"Okay," Kurapika agreed, pulling out his bokken swords from under his shirt and tossing them aside. "Now, can we start?"

'Is he stupid?' Morgan wondered. Was Kurapika actually going to fight him bare-handed? Did he really think that highly of himself?

"Is Kurapika going to be okay? This guy looks dangerous," Leorio worriedly asked.

"You don't need to worry," Gon assured, grabbing everyone's attention. "Because when I look at him, I don't feel a chill."

The blue man lunged at Kurapika, letting out a battle cry as he aimed a heavy punch. As his fist collided with the floor, the cement cracked and shattered, sending debris flying. Kurapika swiftly leaped backward to evade the attack.

Morgan watched in wide-eyed astonishment. The blue man had just punched a hole in solid cement. If that fist had connected with Kurapika, it would have shattered bones.

As Kurapika raised his head, the man's bare back faced him, revealing a tattoo of a spider with twelve legs.

"Why would he show him that tattoo?" Morgan wondered silently.

"A tattoo of a spider with twelve legs…" Leorio trailed off, surprise evident on his face. "That's…"

"Yeah, I recognize it. Anyone aspiring to become a Hunter has heard of it. That's the symbol worn by members of the notorious band of thieves, the Phantom Troupe!" Tonpa chimed in, his face paling with alarm.

"Really?" Gon asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, they're famous. I heard about them directly from Kurapika," Leorio confirmed.

Morgan felt a surge of concern. "I thought they were hard to catch. How did a member of such a group end up here?"

"That's what I want to know as well," Leorio murmured.

Morgan looked at Kurapika with newfound worry. Seeing a member of the Phantom Troupe must have been a shock for him. Perhaps the man in front of them had been responsible for the death of someone close to Kurapika.

Kurapika remained still in his position, his face shadowed by his blonde locks, until he pushed himself to stand up slowlyHe chuckled. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" he taunted. "I'm Majitani, one of the Phantom Troupe's four kings! Consider that first strike my way of saying hello. This is your last chance to surrender. I'm still willing to…"

In an instant, the air around Kurapika changed. There was malice, deep-seated hatred—an aura ready to kill.

Morgan felt literal chills run down her spine, as if a beast lurked nearby.

What was this feeling?

She looked at Kurapika differently. Though his body seemed stiff, she sensed his sudden rage.

Suddenly, Kurapika vanished from Majitani's sight, reappearing in front of him in a flash. With clenched jaws, Kurapika lifted Majitani and delivered a powerful punch that sent him crashing to the floor.

Their eyes widened in utter shock and disbelief. Despite his thin and delicate appearance, Kurapika had managed to strike someone much larger than himself.

As she witnessed Kurapika lifting Majitani, what she saw was not just a teenage boy's back, but the embodiment of anger and vengeance—someone seeking revenge.

"Consider this a warning," Kurapika said, struggling to keep his voice even. "First: a real Phantom Troupe tattoo bears the member's number on the spider. Second: they don't bother counting their kills. Third: never mention the Troupe again. If you do…" Kurapika turned toward the unmoving Majitani. "I'll kill you."

Kurapika slowly made his way back to his team, retrieving his bokken and tabard along the way. Despite his face being obscured by his blonde bangs, Morgan saw it for the first time—the fiery red eyes behind them. Daunting and threatening.

Now Morgan understood completely. Those eyes, glowing red like flames, were beautiful yet deadly—like jewels shining in the darkness. And they were the reason he had lost his family.

"Wow…" she heard Tonpa gasp in stunned amazement.

The sound of stone scraping against metal signaled that the path was extending. Morgan's back straightened as Kurapika approached.

"You okay, Kurapika?" Gon asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm not injured," Kurapika reassured, his voice returning to its calm tone.

"Is it safe for us to be near you?" Leorio asked cautiously, taking a step back.

Kurapika raised a hand to his face. "From the moment I saw him, I knew he was weak," he admitted, a pained expression crossing his face. His eyes reverted to their usual gray. "And I knew that tattoo was fake. But as soon as I saw that spider, everything went red…"

"Yeah, it actually did," Morgan muttered under her breath.

"Well, I can't really blame you," Leorio said sympathetically.

"Actually… even when I see a real spider, my personality changes and I enter a frenzy," Kurapika confessed.

"That's worrisome," Morgan thought, looking around wearily, checking for any cobwebs.

"Dude, you need to tell us things like that sooner…" Leorio trailed off, his tone now tinged with nervousness.

He was right. What if a spider decided to hop on their heads and Kurapika saw it? His switch could turn on, and he might suddenly strike them.

Kurapika walked past them, moving farther into the tunnel until he was a good distance away from the other applicants. He sat down at the fringe of the shadows.

"We should keep Kurapika away from spiders," Gon whispered to them, and they all willingly agreed.

Supposedly, it was Leorio's turn to face his opponent. However, they couldn't proceed to the next match because the previous fight hadn't been settled.

Both fighters had agreed to a fight to the death, yet Kurapika hadn't killed the blue-skinned man; he had only knocked him out. Leorio cursed, muttering about stupid technicalities, and demanded Kurapika to finish him off, though Kurapika seemed detached from the situation.

"Leorio, we can't force Kurapika if he's not into this anymore," Gon reasoned.

"But the match hasn't ended!" Leorio argued.

"Let him handle it. Once he wakes up, we'll have our answer," Kurapika told him, maintaining his stance.

It seemed highly doubtful; the blue-skinned man could be pretending to be unconscious, or perhaps he was already awake and plotting. The only way to end this was for Kurapika to kill Majitani, but he strongly declined. Killua stepped in, offering to do it himself if Kurapika didn't want to dirty his hands.

If only it were allowed, Morgan would have deliberately cheered Killua on to end it. But unfortunately, it wasn't an option.

They waited for a couple of hours, but nothing happened. Impatience began to gnaw at Morgan's nerves as she leaned against the wall.

"Say, you do know we're working as a team, so you shouldn't be too selfish," Killua suddenly spoke up, addressing Kurapika.

"He's right," Morgan chimed in, backing him up. "This is teamwork. You should at least finish this round so we can proceed."

"I'm sorry, but I won't change my mind," Kurapika stated firmly, his resolve unwavering.

As time continued to pass, Morgan's patience wore thin. She let out a frustrated breath. "That's it? 'I'm sorry'?" Her back detached from the wall and she faced Kurapika directly. "You're not the only participant here, blondie! Gon, Leorio, and Killua—they have reasons! I have a reason! If this weren't a team effort, I wouldn't care if you curl up into a ball and act emo! So, who's the real selfish one here?" She ranted, her frustration boiling over. "Where's your courage from earlier? Where's that deadly aura you emitted? Finish him and earn us some points!"

"No matter what you say, I won't do it," Kurapika stated firmly.

Morgan pursed her lips, her anger intensifying at his response. "Or is your hatred just not deep enough?"

"Hey, stop it," Leorio interjected, stepping in. Despite his desire to proceed to the next challenge, he didn't like where the argument was heading. It reminded him of the tension between him and Kurapika on the ship.

Kurapika's eyes snapped at her, and he abruptly stood up, glaring. "Shut up. You don't know a thing," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Blinded by anger, Morgan failed to notice the warning tone. "I really don't know a thing. And I don't give a single crap about it!" she retorted.

"If you're so eager, you finish him off! Don't force someone who doesn't want to do it!"

It was as if her composure snapped like a broken branch. Morgan took quick, large strides towards Kurapika until they were just a few inches apart, both giving off challenging, angry stares. "I thought you were doing this for your dead comrades. For your dead family. It looks like all those harbored feelings were just shallow," she accused.

Kurapika grabbed her collar. "Shut the hell up," he growled.

"You can't make me." She reciprocated by grabbing his neckline. "If you're doing this for your dead comrades, then I'm enduring all this shit because mine are alive. I'm doing this because they're still alive!" She ended up screaming the last part.

She hadn't intended to reveal anything about herself. Why would she? They weren't even friends to begin with. They were just acquaintances.

Kurapika actually looked taken aback, and his grip loosened slightly.

"That's enough!" Leorio scolded once again. This time, Morgan was the first to release her hold harshly, and Kurapika slowly followed suit. "Gon, take Morgan away from Kurapika."

Gon nodded, addressing Morgan gently as he held her still-trembling hands and carefully led her outside the tunnel.

Morgan allowed herself to be guided near the pit, where Killua was waiting. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

'Damn it. I got carried away.'

Hope you enjoy! Please review.