In the Chairman's office atop the Hunter Association, Netero stroked his beard while watching the game unfold.
At the same time, he patted a stack of white paper materials beside him.
"All the previous information is blank, and his identity certificate appears in Gumandun, which suggests that he's likely from the streets of Meteor City. An eccentric Nen user, currently studying under Bisky... What an interesting boy~"
Back in the room, Ronnel found only Zushi striding back and forth, practicing seriously.
"Where are Master Bisky and the others?"
Ronnel scanned the room with his Nen, but found no trace of anyone, prompting him to ask Zushi.
"Master Wing and the others went to collect the winnings," Zushi replied, his eyes filled with admiration. He had watched the game earlier and was thoroughly impressed.
Ronnel had won easily yet again, and Zushi felt that he might be stronger than Master Wing.
"Pick up the money?"
Ronnel was momentarily confused, then realized Bisky had likely placed bets on him again. Feeling a bit helpless, he sighed.
For the past few days, Bisky had followed Ronnel around, betting on his victories.
"So, did all three of them go? Did Shizuku tag along too?"
"Yes. Bisky said she won a lot in the casino and was afraid they wouldn't honor the payout, so she brought Master Wing and Shizuku as backup."
How much did they bet? Did they put their entire fortunes on the line?
Ronnel was speechless, though a bit concerned.
"With Bisky's strength, getting the money shouldn't be a problem, right?"
"Well…"
Zushi's face twisted awkwardly, hesitating as if debating whether to say more.
"What's wrong?"
Ronnel prompted.
"...It's like this. Bisky said that after collecting the winnings, she and Shizuku planned to go shopping, but they couldn't carry all the things themselves, so…"
So they dragged Wing along as a pack mule for shopping, right?
Ronnel could only shake his head in disbelief, but found it hard to say anything more.
The next event on the horizon was the opening of the Battle Olympia in fifteen days.
Time flew by, and during the fifteen days Ronnel spent preparing, Heavens Arena grew increasingly lively in anticipation of the tournament.
During these days, Ronnel's reputation as the new Floor Master, along with his incredible strength, drew widespread attention and sparked heated discussions.
Especially among the other 30 Floor Masters—many of whom now viewed Ronnel as a serious threat and were beginning to feel a sense of unease.
The Floor Masters generally knew each other well. Even though the 220th-floor master ranked in the bottom ten, the gap between him and the others wasn't that significant. But to be defeated by a single blow? And with an untraceable technique like a neck strike, there was no way to counter it.
This development spurred the other Floor Masters into intense training, wishing for more hours in the day to improve their skills.
Meanwhile, Heavens Arena was thrilled. After heavily promoting Ronnel, they saw a surge in popularity and viewership—several times higher than in previous years. They could barely contain their excitement.
Despite Ronnel avoiding interviews, Heavens Arena capitalized on the mystery surrounding him. Their promotional campaign, centered on the theme of "mystery," only fueled the audience's curiosity, causing his popularity to soar.
But none of this mattered much to Ronnel.
His main concern was passing Bisky's final examination, even the championship title at the biennial combat festival seemed trivial to him.
However, while Ronnel didn't care, others certainly did.
In a luxurious manor, the scent of blood permeated the air.
The garden, typically filled with beautiful, well-tended flowers, now had a darker, blood-soaked hue, making the blossoms appear even more vivid.
On the ground lay numerous black pistols, sharp blades, and the bodies of men in black suits. Roughly estimating, there were at least a hundred corpses, all silent, with blood pooling from their wounds.
Inside the manor, the sound of the television echoed through the luxurious room.
A tall man with red hair and clown makeup stepped over a corpse, blood trailing from his shoes, though he paid no mind to it.
This man was unmistakably Hisoka.
With a few playing cards in hand, Hisoka twirled them with his fingers, the cards fluttering through the air like butterflies.
"Mmm…"
Watching the news report on the television, Hisoka's brightly colored tongue slipped out, licking his lips.
His narrow eyes slowly opened, the wild excitement in his gaze gradually settling.
"The so-called mysterious powerhouse?"
His fingers stopped moving, then flicked the cards toward the television. The cards embedded themselves deeply into the screen with several soft clicks.
"At first, I thought they were still ripening apples, but I didn't expect autumn to come so soon. It's harvest season already~"
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