Chapter 62 — Buhara's Bottomless Stomach (Part 2)
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Even after roasting, the boars weren't exactly lightweight. As the group carried their pigs and ran, the ground trembled beneath them.
Osren felt a vein pop.
Running while carrying an entire roasted boar?
This was a scene straight out of a fever dream.
"I'm so hungry…" Buhara had already slipped into starvation-induced hibernation, snoring while mumbling "hungry" over and over, like a broken recorder.
Menchi lounged sideways on the sofa, lazily twirling a strand of hair as she stared toward the gate, clearly bored to death.
But when the ground began to rumble, she sat upright instantly.
"They're back," she muttered.
Buhara's eyes snapped open too—like a beast smelling prey.
The moment Osren's group stepped through the gate, a rich, irresistible aroma spread through the air.
Compared to the others' charred disasters and half-burnt monstrosities, Osren's roasted boars practically glowed.
"So good… so hungry… I want it…" Buhara's eyes locked onto the pigs, drool pouring like a waterfall.
"The smell is excellent." Even Menchi couldn't help nodding, her gaze fixed on Osren's group. She genuinely hadn't expected any examinee to have such impressive culinary skill.
"Smells good," Satots murmured from where he lounged against a large tree near the entrance. "But can it satisfy Buhara, one of the top gourmet hunters?"
Osren stepped forward, planting the spit of his roasted boar firmly into the ground before Buhara.
"Thanks for waiting. Please enjoy."
He'd chosen long, thick branches specifically so the roasted pigs wouldn't need to touch the dirt—transporting, cooking, and presenting, all in one design.
Buhara stared at the five golden, crispy boars before him and inhaled sharply.
"Well then… I won't hold back."
Without hesitation—nor concern for the heat—he grabbed an entire boar and stuffed it into his mouth, ripping off massive bites.
"Delicious! Delicious!" he mumbled between mouthfuls, completely unfazed by the scorching temperature.
After taking several enormous bites, he paused long enough to speak—rare for him.
"Crispy, fragrant skin… perfectly caramelized. The meat inside is tender and juicy—crispy outside, soft inside. There's even a faint bitterness that balances the richness. Not greasy at all. This is… this is a top-class roasted boar."
For once, Buhara sounded exactly like the elite gourmet hunter he was supposed to be.
Menchi, seated just beside him, clenched her jaw, face tightening. From the smell alone she knew it was amazing, but she wasn't allowed to eat yet—and it was torture.
In the time it took her to blink—
an entire roasted boar vanished into Buhara's stomach.
Osren blinked.
If he hadn't witnessed it himself, he would never have believed a human could inhale an entire roasted boar so effortlessly.
But Gon and the others didn't seem shocked at all.
To them, one whole pig was nothing special.
(Though whether they could stay calm after what came next… that was another story.)
While Buhara devoured the boars with blissful abandon, Menchi's mood plummeted.
She watched the pigs she had mentally claimed disappear bite by bite—yet couldn't even taste a morsel.
To her, it was torture.
Osren noticed her frosty expression, the slight furrow of her brows, and instantly recognized an opportunity—
A chance to raise her favorability.
"Gon, bring me that little clay bundle we dug up earlier," Osren said quietly.
Earlier, when butchering the boars, Osren had saved the best of the organs. With a few wild herbs gathered during their journey, he improvised something like a clay-wrapped "beggar's chicken"—except it was made from pork offal.
Each of them had one for extra stamina later.
And one small extra portion—prepared specifically for Menchi.
Osren never missed a chance to build goodwill, especially at a moment like this.
"Okay, Osren."
Gon immediately took out a clay-wrapped bundle, about the size of two adult fists, and handed it over.
Meanwhile—
In just the time it took for that exchange…
Buhara had already devoured all five boars.
"That was amazing," he sighed contentedly, licking the grease off his lips without a shred of shame.
Then he looked down and blinked at the empty ground.
"…What? It's gone?"
He sounded genuinely disappointed.
He'd barely gotten started, and already the food was gone.
And Menchi?
Her frustration had reached critical levels.
As a gourmet hunter, not being able to taste a dish this fragrant—especially when she could tell something special had been added—was agonizing.
Osren's group felt reassured at least.
With Buhara this satisfied, they were guaranteed to pass round one.
"Osren, do you think he can still eat?" Gon asked, peeking at Buhara's belly—which looked completely unchanged.
"I doubt it…" Leorio muttered. "That was five whole pigs."
"I think he can eat a bit more," Kurapika argued. "He chose the challenge himself. If he could only eat a small amount, a lot of people would be unfairly disqualified."
Even so, seeing Buhara swallow five boars non-stop was… mentally devastating.
"I bet he could handle ten or twenty more." Killua said casually, glancing at Buhara's stomach. "He eats more than that 'Three-Hairs' guy."
Osren shrugged.
In the original test, he ate about seventy boars. He's nowhere near his limit.
Rumble… Rumble…
The ground shook again—this time from dozens of examinees rushing in with their roasted boars.
Osren exchanged a glance with his group.
Better to move aside—they no longer needed to fight for attention. Their boars were already eaten.
He led them toward Menchi, positioning himself exactly where he needed to be.
Just as they reached her side—
A storm of dust kicked up as dozens of candidates arrived, each carrying a differently shaped, differently burnt roasted boar.
The sight of so many sizzling pigs, dripping fat and glistening in the sun, was undeniably spectacular.
"Sorry to keep you waiting!"
One after another, examinees presented their boars before Buhara.
Buhara felt like he was in heaven.
He immediately resumed eating—but the flavors were noticeably inferior.
Some were undercooked, some burnt, most uneven.
But compared to Menchi, Buhara was far more forgiving.
And because he wanted every examinee who managed to hunt a boar to pass, he forced himself to eat all of them—good or bad.