The Thinker Moro

As the woman with the long ponytail conceded, the referee immediately announced the result.

Next, the referee produced a card-reader-like machine and issued a pass to the winner for entry to the higher floors.

"2792, your registration details state you have zero combat experience, but based on your performance in this match, I believe you can advance directly to the 50th floor. Here is your pass to the 50th floor, please keep it safe."

The referee said this as he handed the slip of paper to Moro.

Each referee had their own criteria for judgment.

Judging solely by the techniques displayed in the duel, the referee for Arena C would have awarded Moro a pass to the 20th floor, while the woman with the long ponytail would have received a pass to the 50th floor.

However, looking at the outcome, the woman with the long ponytail had no chance of winning against Moro.

The Arena C referee, believing the result was more important than the process, disregarded the registration details and directly ruled that Moro could advance to the 50th floor.

Yet, faced with the referee's earnest judgment, Moro did not take the slip. Instead, he asked tentatively, "Excuse me, referee, may I choose to advance to the 10th floor instead?"

"Of course, that's your right," the referee nodded.

Heaven's Arena held at least two thousand preliminary matches every day, and among so many contestants, there were always those like Moro who, for various reasons or needs, chose to advance slowly.

This phenomenon was not unusual.

Moro smiled, "Then please give me the pass to the 10th floor."

"Please wait a moment."

The referee readily printed another slip for Moro.

"Thank you."

Moro took the slip and turned to leave the arena.

On his way from the arena to the corridor, Moro could feel numerous gazes cast upon him from all directions. One of them was from the woman with the long ponytail who had just conceded.

However, he paid them no mind, walking straight into the corridor and then ascending to the 10th floor of Heaven's Arena.

Without rushing to the counter to register his advancement qualifications, Moro entered the elevator and casually pressed the button for the 15th floor.

A moment later.

Moro arrived at the 15th floor and, following the directional markers on the wall, casually walked into one of the rooms.

At this moment.

A match was underway on the central stage within the room.

The spectator seats surrounding the arena were sparsely populated.

Heaven's Arena had 251 floors. Floors like the 11th to 19th and the 21st to 29th were generally equipped with arenas and comprehensive supporting facilities.

A billion spectators bought tickets to watch matches annually, but for the audience, the lower-floor matches clearly lacked appeal.

Moro wasn't even stopped or checked for tickets by any staff when he entered.

Finding a seat in the spectator area, Moro watched the match on the arena.

The two contestants were very aggressive in their offense.

However, their attacks were completely undisciplined, relying solely on their physical conditioning to execute moves like swinging fists or kicking legs with force.

Moro left less than a minute later.

Compared to the two contestants he had seen earlier who specialized in lethal martial arts, and the woman with the long ponytail he had faced, the two contestants currently in the arena were like street thugs fighting.

Yet, these two fighters had advanced to the tenth floor, while the agile woman with the long ponytail lost her preliminary match against him. Even the fighter with the formidable leg techniques had died directly on the arena.

One could only say that life was unpredictable.

And it was tragically ironic...

Moro saw a reflection of himself in the two contestants fighting like street thugs.

Fortunately, he still had the opportunity to change.

Leaving the match room and returning to the corridor, Moro was filled with emotion.

He was still contemplating—

If these martial artists, who had dedicated ten to twenty years of their lives and energy to their training, were to suddenly encounter the power known as Nen, would they despair at realizing how much time they had wasted?

A few minutes later.

Moro returned to the 10th floor to register his advancement and immediately chose to start his next match.

Below the 200th floor, one could fight two matches a day.

Contestants who were confident and wished to climb quickly naturally chose to fight the maximum of two matches.

Moro waited for a while in the contestant lounge and was soon assigned to Arena B on the 17th floor for his match.

Heaven's Arena was remarkably efficient at matching opponents.

It could be said that the countless arenas within this tower-like structure operated like gears every single day, constantly turning.

Every minute and every second during the day, victories and defeats were decided on the arenas.

On the way to Ring B on the 17th floor, Moro thought with amusement...

If there were a cheat that allowed one to grow stronger by absorbing the "will to win," then by staying in Heaven's Arena for a while, one would surely emerge invincible.

But Moro then considered that even if he emerged invincible, he would be reduced to a puddle of flesh by the simple words, "You shall die," from the "Wish Machine."

In a sense, this world also had its own absurd side.

It was as if he, like a time assassin, had been fortunate enough to get a chance to start over under the influence of some ability or phenomenon.

He soon arrived at Ring B on the 17th floor and met his opponent, a man as strong as a bear.

"Hmm, this should be interesting."

Moro thought to himself.

However, after the referee announced the start, Moro was disappointed.

His opponent was strong, but he was also a standard case of having brute strength with no finesse.

Moro didn't end the fight quickly, though. Instead, during the exchange, he observed his opponent's Hatsu habits and the underlying thought processes attached to his offensive style.

The defense provided by Nen allowed him to calmly think in the ring.

He didn't consider it a meaningless endeavor.

On the contrary, he believed that the power of "thinking" was important.

It was just that, in his current state, he was still a novice in this regard and couldn't effectively utilize this power during combat.

So, he could only accumulate experience through a brute-force method, slowly increasing his thinking speed...

With three minutes about to end.

Moro made his move. With a casual palm strike, he sent his strong opponent flying out of the ring.

The battle ended in an instant.

The referee, surprised, gave Moro a promotion ticket.

As usual, Moro offered his thanks and then left the competition room.

Every opponent observed during a battle, and every moment of thinking in the ring, was like filling his knowledge base with information.

Then, once there was enough information, the habit derived from thinking would, like an AI retrieving information, quickly and efficiently provide a correct decision.

Moro wasn't sure if this path was the right one.

The only reason that drove him to do this was a combat ability mentioned by Bisky in the original work—

The instantaneous burst of thinking power.

In the following days, Moro advanced step by step in this manner.

He fought all the way to the 80th floor, and many spectators began to notice his peculiarity.

Gradually, he earned a title in Heaven's Arena.

Little Thinker...

Oh, no.

It was The Thinker Moro.