Sixteen arenas held matches simultaneously.
Some arenas saw especially fierce battles, while others decided the winner in an instant.
Moro stared intently at one of the arenas.
The two fighters facing off both seemed to be martial artists proficient in some particular style. Their punches and kicks revealed clear offensive and defensive strategies.
After observing for a while, Moro saw that one specialized in kicks while the other specialized in punches.
But after more than a dozen exchanges, the fighter specializing in leg techniques gradually gained the upper hand.
"Impressive."
He had initially only been curious, but after watching more than a dozen exchanges, his blood began to stir.
Both fighters on the arena moved with tremendous force, their attacks utterly resolute, carrying the air of intending to kill the opponent with the very next move.
Their techniques also possessed obvious precision, capable of striking directly at an opening.
That was not something that could be mastered overnight. They must have put in tremendous effort.
If these two also understood Nen...
What would the scene on the arena look like then?
As Moro considered that possibility, the situation on the arena suddenly reversed.
The fighter using kicks had held the advantage, but the other man, the one using punches, suddenly went all out. He forcibly endured a whipping kick in exchange for the chance to close in and drive a punch straight into the other man's chest.
That single punch turned the tide, sending his opponent crashing to the ground.
Moro's pupils contracted slightly at the sight.
He noticed the aura above the kick fighter's head dispersing.
At that moment, the referee on the arena realized the severity of the situation. After checking the fallen contestant's breathing, he immediately called over the emergency medical team waiting at ringside.
As for the other contestant, the one who had won, he merely glanced at his fallen opponent before looking away, wearing an indifferent expression as though it had nothing to do with him.
This was the cruel side hidden beneath the flowers and applause.
Every contestant determined to step onto the arena at Heaven's Arena had to be prepared, both mentally and in resolve, to die during a match.
In that regard, it was somewhat similar to the Hunter Exam.
The Hunter Association, which ran the Hunter Exam, held a relatively indifferent attitude toward examinees dying during the test.
And the examinees who signed up for the Hunter Exam all understood the dangers of the path ahead.
Heaven's Arena was the same.
Contestants not only had to be mentally prepared, but also sign a death liability waiver.
And the fights on the arenas were by no means exhibition matches for people's entertainment.
If they encountered an opponent with a vicious temperament, they could only blame their own bad luck.
However—
Deaths in the preliminary rounds were still uncommon.
That was because weapons were forbidden on the arena from the preliminary rounds up to the 200th floor.
And the preliminary rounds had a three-minute time limit.
If the two sides could not determine a winner within three minutes, the referee would decide the outcome based on their performances.
So in most cases, both contestants simply countered each other's moves and did not fight to the death.
It was relatively rare for one arena to happen to match two contestants who both specialized in killing techniques, like this.
And the two contestants happened to be evenly matched, so in order to win, one of them had decisively seized that fleeting opportunity, driven by his abundant combat experience.
Perhaps the contestant skilled with his fists had anticipated that his attack might kill the other man, but he would not have hesitated in the slightest.
That was a pure martial fighter.
Forget Heaven's Arena, a paradise for combatants. Even if such people met anywhere under ordinary circumstances...
Once martial fighters formally arranged a duel, most of the time they would settle both superiority and life or death.
"I could defeat him easily."
Moro's gaze followed the victor who had already stepped down from the arena.
"But if he awakened a Nen ability..."
Watching the man disappear into the passageway, Moro let out a heavy sigh.
"I couldn't beat him."
After a brief silence, Moro leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing slightly.
Hand-to-hand combat—
Whether before encountering Nen abilities or after learning Nen abilities, he had never truly come into contact with it.
But without question, hand-to-hand combat was an extremely important component of Nen ability battles.
Yet someone with no accomplishment whatsoever in hand-to-hand combat could, after awakening Nen, face a martial artist who had trained in combat techniques and physical skills for countless years without any pressure.
If he had to establish an order of priority...
Which was more important, Nen or martial arts and physical techniques?
Moro thought of the battle between Killua and Chrollo in the original story.
At that time, Killua had not yet understood Nen, yet he could rely on footwork and physical techniques to suppress Chrollo one-sidedly. But if Chrollo developed a Nen ability, it would be hard to say.
Then Moro thought of Biscuit.
A first-rate Nen user who had spent decades immersed in Shin-Kage-Ryu, she did not need a combat-type Nen ability. With technique alone, she possessed terrifying combat power.
So what was the answer...
For a moment, Moro felt rather lost.
Then he inexplicably thought of Feitan's ghostlike rapid assault ability.
Compared with the Nen ability of an Unforgivable Person, Moro found Feitan's rapid assault ability even more troublesome.
Could mastery of Nen alone really deal with that kind of rapid assault style?
What a headache.
Moro raised a hand and rubbed his temples.
If not for the Phantom Troupe, he would not have needed to study such things, much less endure the urgency imposed by time.
The future he had previously envisioned—
Was to use basic Nen abilities as capital for self-protection, then make enough money through the antiques business to never have to worry about spending again.
Having money and being unlikely to die... what a wonderful future that would have been.
But the Phantom Troupe had destroyed all of it.
"Contestants 2688 and 2792, please proceed to Arena C. Contestants 2688 and 2792, please proceed to Arena C..."
The broadcast announcement in the venue interrupted Moro's thoughts.
2792 was his number.
Moro gathered his thoughts and stood, walking toward the arena.
He soon arrived beside Arena C and saw contestant 2688. She was a woman in a bodysuit with a long ponytail.
The ponytailed woman also saw Moro. Her brows drew together slightly, as though she thought he was far too young.
"Both contestants, please enter the arena."
The referee raised a hand, signaling for them to come up.
Moro and the ponytailed woman stepped onto the arena.
"Matches on the first floor place greater emphasis on combat performance. Please display your abilities as much as possible within three minutes."
As usual, the referee explained the rules.
"Then, begin!"
The referee promptly announced the start.
The ponytailed woman moved at once. With a light, nimble step, she rapidly circled behind Moro.
Sorry, little brother...
The ponytailed woman raised her palm and chopped toward the back of Moro's neck.
Some contestants in the spectator stands saw this scene.
They were all people who had been watching Moro before. Seeing that he showed no reaction whatsoever to the ponytailed woman's attack, they each reacted differently.
Thud.
A dull sound rang out from Arena C.
It was followed by the ponytailed woman's sharp intake of breath. As she withdrew her hand, pain showed on her face.
What happened?!
Everyone who saw it revealed astonishment. Then they saw that the boy, who looked no older than sixteen, not only had no reaction at all, but even wore a...
Contemplative expression?
Before you continue