"Young people these days... they think they're better at killing than me, a seasoned hunter," Lippo muttered under his breath, taking a sip from his drink, his eyes fixated on the screen.
He chuckled softly. "I wonder if that green kid with the spiky head is as twisted as the silver-haired one before him."
In the arena, Gon stretched his arms and looked across the platform towards the opposing cliff.
"So, who's going up next?"
The four remaining prisoners exchanged nervous glances. None of them moved.
Though they hadn't said a word, the tension between them was palpable.
You go! No, you go!
It was clear—they all valued their lives too much to rush into what could be certain death. At first, they had assumed these kids were the weakest of the group, easy targets. But the way Killua had effortlessly taken down Bendot changed everything.
Even Johness, the diissector, wasn't sure he could survive another round unscathed. As for Gon, there was no telling whether he'd be just as dangerous as Killua.
No one wants to be next on the chopping block.
They'd rather endure their lengthy prison sentences than volunteer for what felt like suicide. It was painfully obvious that none of them had any intention of dying today.
Growing impatient with the prisoners' hesitation, Leorio finally snapped.
"Hey! What's with the stalling? If none of you step up, does that mean we win by default? Examiner, we need an answer!"
At Leorio's outburst, Lippo's voice rang out over the loudspeakers from the central monitoring room.
"Sedokan, you're up!"
The sound of metal clinking echoed through the arena as Sedokan's handcuffs fell to the ground. Resigned, the prisoner sighed, taking off his blue cloak with a flourish before stepping forward.
In the Trick Tower, Lippo's word was law. The prisoners had no choice but to obey.
Sedokan wasn't particularly imposing—short and lacking any visible muscle. His delicate features gave him an almost bat-like appearance. After removing his cloak, he dramatically ran his fingers through his long hair, giving a smirk.
It was Sedokan, the "Candle Man" from the original version. Predictably, he produced two candles of different lengths and began explaining the rules of the game to Gon.
The match proceeded as expected: Gon, ever the risk-taker, chose the longer candle. Little did he know, both the long and short candles had been rigged. Sedokan's tricks caused Gon's candle to burn far faster than normal.
But, just as his own flame was about to go out, Gon blew out Sedokan's candle, securing a second victory for his team.
The scoreboard on the wall flashed: 2-0. The five-member team was now one game away from winning and advancing.
"Ronnel, it's your turn!" Leorio punched the air in excitement. "With your strength, we've got this in the bag!"
From Leorio's perspective, as long as Ronnel stepped into the ring, victory was a certainty. Kurapika nodded in agreement, offering a smile. Even Killua, though nonchalant, seemed eager to see the match end.
"Yeah, go get 'em, Ronnel!" Gon added, his trust in Ronnel unwavering.
With his friends cheering him on, Ronnel nodded.
"Alright, I'll take the next round." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes briefly lingering on Kurapika before walking towards the stone bridge.
"So, who will you send?"
In the monitoring room, Lippo's posture straightened as soon as Ron stepped up. His fingers flew across the keyboard, bringing up a 360-degree view of the arena.
"It's finally time for the champ to fight," he muttered, reaching for a bowl of snacks. "Finger cakes, cookies, cream puffs—all set!"
"Is everything ready?" asked the second-in-command.
"Everything's good to go, sir," came the reply.
With snacks laid out and eyes glued to the screen, Lippo and his men eagerly awaited the match.
"Who do you think the prisoners will send this time?"
"It'll be someone who can stall. My guess? Leilute. As a psychiatrist, she's a master of psychological warfare. She'd be perfect for buying time," replied one of the guards.
"Yeah, and Ronnel won't fall for that. He'll see right through her tricks and end it with one clean strike, just like in the Battle Olympia."
Their conversation continued, with everyone speculating on who the next prisoner would be. Despite the lighthearted chatter, Lippo's curiosity grew. Facing Ronnel meant a certain loss for whoever was sent up, and Lippo had no intention of interfering.
Back at the arena, the prisoners stood at the edge of the cliff, hesitating once more.
"No... I'm not going up there to die," one of them muttered.
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