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Bound by the urgency imposed by "time"—

For someone who needed to kill Feitan in ten months, which aspect should he prioritize?

Moro did not have Gon and Killua's luck of first meeting Wing, then Biscuit...

If he put that question before Biscuit, he would probably get an answer right away.

But Moro did not have Biscuit. He could only think through the answer himself.

He wondered whether there was any need to stay and temper himself in the matches below the 200th floor of Heaven's Arena.

The answer was yes.

He was not short on money, so there was no need for him to rush through the lower floors like Gon and Killua had.

What he lacked more at present was experience and understanding on the martial side of combat.

Compared to the matches above the 200th floor, where the focus had already shifted toward Nen abilities, the matches below the 200th floor were more likely to offer skilled martial artists like the one from earlier.

Originally—

Moro had come to Heaven's Arena for its Nen users.

But after personally witnessing a martial duel that decided both superiority and life or death, his thinking had changed somewhat.

Since his rebirth, everything he needed to do had pointed toward one thing: Feitan's death.

Then, in deciding how to grow stronger, he had no choice but to take Feitan's combat characteristics into account.

Thus, Moro naturally came to believe—

How to deal with Feitan's rapid attacks would surely be the key to whether he could successfully kill Feitan.

Putting aside accumulated combat experience, he at least needed to be able to see Feitan's swift blade clearly.

Relying on his own understanding, Moro arrived at a rough answer through thought.

Without guidance from a master like Biscuit, he did not know whether the choice he made at this moment was correct.

All he could do was unite knowledge and action. Since he had identified his direction, he could no longer hesitate.

And these arena matches at Heaven's Arena...

Could help him make up for his weaknesses.

"Come again."

Moro's thoughts returned to reality. He turned to look at the long-ponytailed woman retreating while clutching her palm.

Hearing Moro's words, the woman's brows nearly knotted together.

"You..."

She wanted to ask something, but decided it was inappropriate and closed her mouth. Suppressing both her shock and the pain along the side of her hand, she attacked Moro once more.

She still relied on nimble, well-practiced footwork, moving into Moro's blind spot at high speed.

"He dodged. That means..."

As she struck, the long-ponytailed woman noticed Moro's barely timely evasive reaction, and her heart immediately settled.

She changed her move. Her chopping palm suddenly dropped and struck Moro on the shoulder.

Bang!

Another dull impact rang out across the arena.

Then—

Hiss!

The long-ponytailed woman felt as if her palm had struck an iron block. She sucked in another sharp breath, clutched her agonizingly painful hand, and sprang backward as though electrocuted.

So hard...

How could he be this hard?

Even hard qigong could not possibly reach this level, could it?

Fine beads of cold sweat instantly formed on the woman's forehead.

The first time she attacked, she had held back somewhat because Moro was so young.

But on her second attack, having recognized Moro's strength, she had not held back.

Yet precisely because she had not held back, the backlash was even worse.

Clutching her already swollen, reddened palm, the long-ponytailed woman felt that she had likely fractured a bone. Her heart was full of gravity.

She fixed her eyes on Moro, only to see...

He was actually lost in thought again?!

The long-ponytailed woman's cheek twitched.

Meanwhile, Moro was reflecting on their exchange just now.

Although he had failed to anticipate the long-ponytailed woman's sudden change of move, his Nen had reacted faster than his body.

It was only because it had been too rushed that he had failed to properly control his Nen intensity.

As a result, his opponent had suffered too much rebound damage.

That was absolutely not what Moro wanted to see.

He could tell that the long-ponytailed woman possessed martial skill.

Setting aside her physical strength, the footwork she had used to swiftly circle behind him reminded him of Killua.

So, within the limited three minutes, Moro wanted to experience the long-ponytailed woman's attacks as much as possible and hopefully learn something from them.

But it seemed he had truly frightened her just now.

Moro quickly ended his contemplation. Looking at the long-ponytailed woman, whose face was covered in cold sweat, he said earnestly, "Come again. I'll be more careful this time, and I promise I won't strike back."

"..."

The long-ponytailed woman fell silent, gritting her teeth hard.

One palm was likely fractured, and that alone had already made her consider giving up.

But seeing Moro's reaction, she was unwilling to accept it.

Nearby.

Even the well-traveled referee could not help showing a strange look at Moro's behavior.

Not to mention some of the competitors in the audience who were watching this match.

"He clearly landed his hits, but that woman was the one who got hurt..."

"Actually getting distracted and thinking in the middle of a match... Isn't that way too arrogant?"

"Hmph, he only dares fight like this because he hasn't met me."

Some of the competitors in the audience discussed it among themselves.

Only one handsome man remained silent, staring intently at Moro on the arena.

On the arena.

Moro looked eagerly at the long-ponytailed woman. She clenched her teeth, ultimately unwilling to lose the match this way.

"Hah!"

The long-ponytailed woman abandoned her footwork. As she adjusted her breathing, she exerted every muscle in her body before stepping forward and rushing straight at Moro.

A straight punch!

She settled into a horse stance and drove a perfectly straight fist toward Moro's abdomen.

Moro lowered his gaze, using his vision to catch the long-ponytailed woman's incoming fist.

Power, speed, angle.

Every element had fused into that punch, making it look remarkably pleasing.

This method of exertion and this punch trajectory had surely undergone countless targeted adjustments and drills.

But—

He could see it clearly.

So footwork really was important...

If that punch had been supported by footwork, then with my lack of experience dealing with it, I probably still wouldn't have been able to defend against it.

In that flash of time, Moro felt that his thoughts stretched differently from before, allowing him to think of many things in such a brief instant.

Then—

Moro lowered his hand and placed his palm along the path the long-ponytailed woman's fist had to take.

He even deliberately controlled the Nen intensity gathered in his palm.

Bang!

The long-ponytailed woman's fist struck heavily against Moro's palm, yet it was as though all her strength had been poured into cotton, yielding no feedback at all.

Moro did not budge, and the long-ponytailed woman froze in place like a statue.

"You..."

The deep-water-like softness and resistance feeding back from her fist left the long-ponytailed woman dazed.

She felt as though she had touched upon a realm she could not understand.

Then she blankly raised her eyes to look at Moro.

Fortunately, what she saw was no longer his distracted, contemplative expression, but the boy's spring-breeze smile.

"Thank you."

Moro withdrew his palm and thanked her sincerely.

I can learn many things here.

At that moment, Moro was utterly certain.

The long-ponytailed woman opened her mouth, then finally let her arm fall in utter helplessness.

"Referee... I surrender."