Thus, without a break in the momentum, after more than an hour, Ronnel stretched himself and walked outside.
As Ronnel made his move, Thatcher, who had been holding his sword and resting his mind with closed eyes, slowly opened them and followed without a word.
It was time for their match.
"The next competitors are from the world-class martial arts school, the head of the Subai school, the wielder of the 'Slaying Sword,' Thatcher! And rising rapidly over the past year, defeating opponents with just one blow, the mysterious figure known as Ronnel!"
The commentator, full of energy, gave her exaggerated play-by-play, while the big screen displayed highlights from their previous matches.
Then, the screen split, showing Ronnel and Thatcher facing each other, separated by a fiery border, and the large "VS" letters flashing in between.
"Is it starting?"
Bisky and the others in the audience perked up, their eyes fixed on the entrance of the passage, watching as Ronnel emerged.
In the private waiting room of Heavens Arena, Netero held his teacup in both hands, his gaze on the TV screen as he watched Ronnel walk toward the ring, a small smile playing at his lips.
Elsewhere...
"Wow~"
A pyramid of playing cards collapsed, but Hisoka paid it no mind, his narrow eyes fixed on Ronnel's image on the screen. Beside him, Machi silently observed.
Meanwhile, in the Republic of Padokea, within a room atop Kukuroo Mountain…
"I put most of my fortune on you, you better win this! Or I'll kill you, you b*****d!!"
A somewhat anxious, handsome youth of sixteen gobbled up snacks while ranting at the 360-degree screen before him. The silver-haired cat near him shivered at the sight of an escape plan mentioned by a passerby.
Far away, on the Azian Continent, in a rundown room, Chrollo leaned his chin on his hands, his deep gaze fixed on the TV screen.
In a northern city on the Yorbian Continent...
Dressed in a fur coat, with hair like a lion's mane, Uvogin belched after devouring a meal, pushing aside a heap of plates. He picked up a thick toothpick and gazed at the store's only TV. Casually, he turned to Nobunaga and asked:
"Is this guy supposed to be our new No. 8 member? He's younger than Shalnark and Machi, right? Is he really that strong?"
"If Machi hears you, she'll string you up for three days and nights," grumbled Nobunaga, his katana at his waist as always. He added,
"They say he's fast, no less than Feitan."
"Oh? As fast as Feitan?" Uvogin's interest piqued. He leaned back, abandoning his plans for mischief, and focused on the match.
This dismayed the boss, who was mentally lamenting over the towering stack of dishes and the fact that his store was empty save for these two. He wept silently.
In a small town far away…
"Is that him? The one they say is faster than me?"
Standing outside an electronics shop, Feitan squinted at the broadcast of the combat festival on the displayed TV sets. His fingers fidgeted under his cloak.
"If Machi says so, she's probably right. Looks like you've got competition, Feitan!"
Phinks, clad in his tracksuit, grinned at his friend's expense, his tone dripping with amusement.
"Hmph. When we meet, I'll have a proper match with him!" Feitan sneered.
With many eyes watching, Ronnel walked onto the stage, standing at the center of the ring, facing Thatcher.
The stage of the Battle Olympia competition was sacred ground for the fighters—no referees allowed. The rules for victory were simple: force your opponent to surrender or render them incapable of fighting.
There were many ways to achieve this—knocking them unconscious, crippling them, or even… killing them.
With such clear rules, there was no need for referees to score the match. The crowd and the viewers at home were the ultimate judges.
So, as the match was announced, the stadium erupted in thunderous cheers.
"Are you the head of the Subai school?"
From a distance, Ronnel looked at Thatcher, who was warily sizing him up, and asked a well-known question.
"What's your point?"
Thatcher drew his ancestral sword, his powerful aura radiating through the arena.
"Nothing much. I just think this match is about to get a lot more interesting."
Ronnel smiled, then took a stance that Thatcher immediately recognized.
"A disciple of Shingen-ryu, Ronnel. I look forward to learning from the head of the Subai school."
Shingen-ryu! ! !
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