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Most contestants Ron's age were typically accompanied by an adult.
"I know the rules, don't worry. I'm strong."
"Well... alright."
Ron insisted, and the girl with the bun hairstyle had no choice but to let him proceed. However, a few people standing behind him sneered after hearing his words.
"Hey, kid, this isn't a playground."
"You say you're strong? How strong could you possibly be?"
"Just don't start crying later."
Ron looked at them calmly.
"Do you even know who I am?"
"Who you are? What, are you famous or something?"
"No, but here's some advice: if you don't know who I am, don't make rash comments. I came to Heaven's Arena alone at my age. What kind of background do you think I have?"
Ron continued.
"My strength might not be much... but what about the people backing me?"
The man froze, his face paling as if he'd just realized something.
Ron shook his head. People like him were at such a low level that Ron didn't even feel it was worth his time to deal with them. At that moment, he began to understand why, in the original story, Zeno didn't bother engaging with the Leopard Division Commander despite the man's provocations.
Ron's current situation mirrored that—just like Zeno facing the Leopard Commander.
"Number 886!"
Hearing his number called, Ron walked up to the arena. Standing across from him was the young man who had just mocked him. The man's face darkened when he saw Ron.
"You little brat!"
"I almost fell for your bluff back there. So what if you have people behind you? I've got people supporting me too. And even if you have backup, would they care enough to let you come to Heaven's Arena alone?"
"Had you not run into me, you might have gotten lucky. But since you crossed my path, that's just bad luck for you. Here in the arena, if I kill you, the people behind you won't be able to say a word. That's the rule of Heaven's Arena!"
Ron narrowed his eyes slightly.
"So, you want to kill me?"
"Exactly."
The man snorted coldly. "After what you just said to me, shouldn't I kill you? Blame yourself!"
Remembering the moment he almost fell for Ron's bluff, the man's face flushed with anger, his hatred peaking, his gaze full of murderous intent.
Ron's expression grew cold. At first, he hadn't planned to bother with this guy—the gap in their abilities was just too vast. Would a carriage stop for an ant in its path? Of course not. But now, with the man spouting threats here in the arena, if Ron let it go, he'd disgrace the Zoldyck name.
"Looks like this will be another unprofitable job."
Ron shook his head. As an assassin, killing without pay was a losing business.
"Begin!"
At the referee's signal, the fight started. Instantly, Ron's figure vanished, and a sharp sound cut through the air. The young man had planned to launch a fierce attack and teach Ron a harsh lesson, intending to make him beg for mercy before he killed him.
But just as he was about to strike, he realized Ron had disappeared.
"The kid's gone? Where did he go? Did he run away?"
He was still processing the situation when a sharp pain hit his chest. Reflexively, he looked down to see a small red spot blossoming over his heart. His pupils shrank.
"What... what is this?"
The pain intensified, spreading through his body as his strength drained away. In the next moment, he collapsed heavily onto the arena floor.
Ron stood calmly behind him. Even the referee hadn't seen what happened until the young man hit the ground, his body bouncing slightly. The referee snapped out of his daze.
"The winner is…"
Ron stepped off the arena platform as the audience erupted in murmurs.
"So that kid actually won."
"In a single move!"
"That guy was pathetic. After all that talk, I thought he'd be something special."
"Who'd have thought that kid would be so strong?"
"Really impressive! Judging by his age, he's probably only in his teens. I wonder how high up he'll go."
The audience's gaze followed Ron with a mix of interest and admiration. They could generally be divided into three groups: those who saw potential and wanted to invest in him, those interested in befriending him, and those who simply admired him like fans.
The stage of Heaven's Arena was vast. Fighters there weren't just combatants—they were stars. They weren't actors or performers, but fighting icons. Those who shone in the arena often attracted a following.
Ron walked to the reception desk. Shortly after, he received a slip detailing his new floor placement. He had been promoted directly from the first floor of Heaven's Arena to the fiftieth, an achievement few could claim.
In the original storyline, Gon and Killua reached this level after the Hunter Exam and opening the Testing Gate, but Ron was already stronger than they were at that point. He was capable of pushing open the third gate of the Testing Gate and had learned the basics of Nen.
Later, Heaven's Arena staff removed the young man's body and took it to the designated area for corpses, a routine process for them. In Heaven's Arena, real combat always carried the risk of death, and fighters were accustomed to it.
After the staff left, two men approached the young man's corpse.
"Reiji!"
"Who could've guessed that kid would be that strong—and ruthless, too. If I'd known, I'd have warned you."
The man beside him sighed as well.
"No one could've expected it. Just a kid, but with that kind of power. Thank goodness we weren't the ones facing him; otherwise, we might be lying here right now."
Relieved, the man continued, "Regardless, we need to tell his uncle about this. Reiji's death can't go unanswered."
In truth, they had another concern. They realized that Ron was dangerously ruthless, and they, like Reiji, had crossed him. There was a chance he might come after them next.
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