Reporters were furiously scribbling notes, casino bookies opened markets with flair, and companies were searching for suitable Floor Masters to serve as their product ambassadors.
In this carnival-like frenzy, the Battle Olympia officially kicked off.
The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight fell on Ronnel, who stood on a small rooftop with the perfect view of the rising sun, he stretched, and his joints crackled in a satisfying symphony.
"I hope today I find an opponent who can give me a good fight. You know, it's lonely being invincible..."
"Stop with the singing already, it's awful! Hurry up, and don't forget you promised to get me the latest issue of the Handsome Men magazine!!"
Before Ronnel could finish his song, Bisky yanked him downstairs by his clothes.
At the door, Shizuku, Wing, and Zushi were already waiting.
"Today, I'm going to bring back the trophy from the tournament!"
With a confident smile, Ronnel glanced at the rising sun and began striding toward Heavens Arena.
Aside from the high-end gamblers and enterprises profiting from the event, the streets on both sides were bustling.
Foods from around the world were on sale, and business was booming. Ronnel noticed that the stall selling crab roe steamed buns, where he was a regular, was packed. The owner, sweating profusely, was barely keeping up with the swarm of customers. Despite the chaos, a genuine smile lingered on his face.
After weaving through the busy streets, Ronnel and his group finally arrived at Heavens Arena. They were greeted by the familiar Miss Elevator, who escorted them to the top floor. Ronnel headed to the competitor's waiting area, while Bisky and the others used the tickets Ronnel had acquired to claim front-row seats.
The arena was already buzzing with excitement.
The most eye-catching feature, apart from the grand central stage, was the opulent platform where several prominent figures stood.
"Wow, Heavens Arena really pulled out all the stops this time. Even the old man showed up," Bisky said, her sharp eyes spotting Netero seated in the middle.
He was dressed in his usual blue and white training suit, with absurdly tall clogs, stroking his curvy beard, all while staring unabashedly at the waitress serving him water.
"Yep, those lecherous eyes… Definitely that perverted old man."
Bisky crossed her arms, cast a sideways glance, and then withdrew her gaze.
On the high platform, besides Netero, were other notable figures—officials from the Hunter Association, representatives from the v5, and some famous wealthy patrons who loved combat sports.
Even the Ten Dons of the underworld sent representatives.
It wasn't yet the future when the Ten Dons would meet their demise.
Meanwhile, in the waiting area, competitors—both familiar faces and long-time rivals—kept a wary distance from each other.
Among them, Thatcher, the owner of the 231st floor, sat clutching his school-heirloom sword. Rivals glared at one another, tension thick in the air.
Despite the hostile atmosphere, one figure remained calm, drawing the attention of those around him.
Ronnel paid no mind to the wary or anxious glances from the others and enjoyed the breakfast he had bought from the streets earlier. Despite the strength radiating from the thirty or so competitors present, Ronnel felt no need to worry.
As the tense atmosphere thickened, the door creaked open, and a beautiful Heavens Arena attendant entered, carrying a wooden box in her arms.
"Please draw your lots and determine your next opponent."
Her voice was succinct as she placed the box in the center of the waiting area. After bowing, she stepped back into a corner, taking out a pen and paper to record the results.
The Battle Olympia featured 32 competitors in total, using a lottery-based elimination system. Among the 32, 31 hailed from the 220th to 250th floors of Heavens Arena. The final competitor was the previous year's champion, residing on the 251st floor. If the champion wished to retain the honor and prestige of that floor, they would have to fight again.
The matches were determined by the draw, and competitors would face off in the grand central arena. The winner would advance, while the loser could face elimination or, in some cases, death. Each year, the tournament was not only a contest of skill but a way to settle old scores, often resulting in fatal outcomes.
As a result, after each martial arts tournament, there were always vacant spots among the Floor Masters, making the ensuing competition in May highly anticipated.
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