Game Treasury of the Endless Dreamer!

Echimilu.

9 matches, 7 wins, 2 losses.

Oboro put down the phone displaying payment notification messages and looked at the information in his other hand.

This was his next opponent.

An impressive record.

Of the 2 losses, 1 was merely a registration without participation... the ninety-day deadline had passed.

He had only lost to one person.

He only needed one more win to qualify to challenge a Floor Master.

Apparently, this person had voluntarily applied to the officials to fight him... after management asked for Oboro's opinion, they accepted.

In the future, Hisoka only became a Floor Master after fighting Gon. His record was 11 matches, 8 wins and 3 losses; those losses were also registrations without participation. Furthermore, 6 of Hisoka's matches had been flawless victories. A flawless victory meant that 6 people who fought him... had died in the arena.

As for points lost during matches, he had lost a total of 4 points, 3 of which had been scored by Kastro.

According to the rules, he had been knocked down once and hit three times.

The reason Oboro had become a Supernova was that throughout his ascent, not only had he maintained a winning streak, but he had also instantly defeated every opponent without losing a single point.

Many people had winning streaks, but they still trailed in points.

Beep beep beep.

Beside him, the phone continued ringing as payment notifications arrived one after another.

By rough estimate, Oboro had earned over ten billion from the match with Jinsha... that money would be enough to support his needs for quite some time.

Ten billion in assets was not much in the world of Hunter x Hunter, but it was no small sum either.

He had Charles spread the money among various casinos to avoid drawing attention. Otherwise... if one casino alone lost ten billion, it would certainly trace the trail back to him... and cause some unnecessary trouble.

Besides, with odds that high, he could only make a killing once.

He could not use the same trick again.

Even outside the Yorbian Continent, the Republic of Padokea still had rampant underground forces and organizations. It was also one of the underworld's territories.

Although the Ten Dons in the original story seemed like a bunch of incompetents, that was only because they had run into the Phantom Troupe and the Zoldyck family, making them seem pathetic by comparison... there was a reason the underworld had spread across several continents and infiltrated more than ninety percent of all industries.

"7 wins, 2 losses, and only 5 points conceded... I can't underestimate him."

The photograph in the file showed a man with a head full of dreadlocks, a lollipop in his mouth, flashing a broad set of white teeth and a brilliant smile.

"You... should be a true powerhouse above the 200th floor, right..."

Oboro smiled softly at the photograph.

He had a feeling that the battle he had been waiting for... had arrived!...

Bang bang bang! A few days later, two figures wrapped in Nen aura frantically clashed on the arena, fists and kicks colliding.

However, Oboro was defending passively, raising both arms to shield his head. His eyes kept shifting left and right in response to his opponent's aura as he observed him.

Yet... the dreadlocked man's speed was too fast! Smack! A black shadow suddenly darted up and struck Oboro's forearm, the impact sending him sliding several meters across the ground.

Straight ahead, Echimilu—the dreadlocked man—stopped moving. He bounced lightly around the arena like an active boxer, headphones hanging over his head as if he were listening to music.

"Yo... what's wrong, kid? Not fighting back?"

Seeing Oboro remain on the defensive, Echimilu raised an eyebrow. "Are you studying my fighting style? Heh heh... useless..."

Whoosh! As soon as he spoke, the man bounced on his feet and instantly vanished.

"Left abdomen!"

Oboro's pupils contracted. His arm immediately dropped to block, while he controlled his Nen power and maintained Ken the entire time, maximizing his defense.

However, the expected attack never came. Instead, after an opening of one breath's delay, it struck Oboro on the chin.

Oboro's feet immediately left the ground as he was sent flying.

At the instant his body lost control, his five fingers swung toward the dreadlocked man's face like tiger claws.

Echimilu merely whistled, tilted his head, and easily avoided it.

In midair, Oboro forcibly twisted his waist with his monstrous physical strength, flipped, and landed. One hand plunged into the tofu-soft ground, tearing out a furrow as he barely stopped himself from falling off the arena.

"Contestant Oboro has felt the pressure from his enemy... he looks extremely passive! Can he turn the tables in this desperate situation?!"

On the other side, the host shouted excitedly.

After all, ever since Oboro had appeared at Heavens Arena, he had never shown such obvious signs of decline... although he had lost the previous match, everyone believed there had been something suspicious about it.

Once he stabilized himself, Oboro pushed off with both legs and charged at the dreadlocked man like a cannonball.

Echimilu grinned and continued bouncing, swaying from side to side as he moved nimbly... Oboro's hands were sharp as blades, even producing shrill sounds as though they were tearing through the air, yet he simply could not hit his target.

Almost all of his attacks missed.

The stone slabs beneath their feet were left covered in Oboro's claw marks.

Every heavy blow from him crushed the stone into fragments.

His attacks were not limited to a single style. He also used some small tricks, such as... throwing up shattered stones to obstruct his opponent's vision, or relying on Iron Shirt's defense to counterattack after taking an enemy strike head-on.

Yet he still could not inflict any substantial damage...

Mainly... because the dreadlocked man evaded everything.

Even locking onto his aura was useless.

Below the arena.

Wing watched the two figures entangled onstage, then looked at Biscuit. "Master..."

"This Oboro probably lacks experience fighting experts. Nen users also come in different levels... he may have fought ordinary Nen users, but... fighting true powerhouses is completely different in rhythm. He is highly skilled in using Nen techniques... but his transitions are too slow... a true expert might use a combination of several Nen abilities within mere seconds, and switch between them seamlessly... this isn't a matter of proficiency, only experience... with his abilities and understanding of Nen, he certainly doesn't lose to his opponent... he simply can't keep up with the other's rhythm..."

Biscuit looked somewhat pleased by his misfortune. "He has been using Ken for full-body defense because he cannot determine where his opponent's attacks will land. No matter how sensitive he is to aura... once his opponent changes the Variation, his 'perception' will be affected."

"What does that mean?"

Wing was utterly confused.

He could not analyze a battle of this level or perceive any details. He could only rely on Biscuit's explanation.

"The arena's boundaries and the point-loss rules mean he cannot keep defending or dodging, so... they will definitely have to clash head-on! Once that dreadlocked man gets close, even if Oboro predicts the attack's trajectory in advance... it will be useless. Because there is still a process between launching an attack and landing it... skilled people can change an attack's angle and speed in milliseconds... Oboro's defensive methods can only make a rough guess. From sensing the aura, to his brain processing the signal, then instinctively reacting... that is far too extreme!"

Seeing that Wing still did not understand, Biscuit raised one finger.

"Take the bullet example you mentioned before. A bullet is fired at you. You see it, and you can react accordingly to dodge it... the bullet travels toward you in a straight line at normal speed, reaching a point one meter away. Within that final meter, the bullet suddenly accelerates and comes at you several times faster than its previous average speed... or perhaps the bullet suddenly pauses... abruptly changes direction, curves around to the back of your head... and then fires at you. Do you think you could still dodge it?"

"Human perception takes time to process."

"..."

Wing.

"Of course you can dodge it! The prerequisite is that you must also change, changing along with the bullet... that is rhythm." After explaining, Biscuit rested her chin on her hand. "Oboro... ah, no, that little brat, is clearly being played in the palm of his opponent's hand. He has been relying on his enormous aura reserves and physical toughness to endure... but if he keeps using Ken, no matter how much aura he has, he will lose soon enough."

"His Nen fundamentals are extremely solid! But some more advanced techniques still need improvement... Ken, Ryu, Ko—he has been using all of them. Perhaps he can execute them well in everyday life, but under high-intensity combat conditions, that is another matter entirely... right now, he is very unpracticed... simply put, he lacks battle experience. Just like you, he needs extensive combat experience. That should also be why he came to Heavens Arena."

Bang! As she spoke, Oboro was sent flying once more. His injuries were severe; blood was already flowing from one arm, which dangled limply at his side.

"See... this is the consequence. His aura has weakened... in critical battles, Nen users are calculating at every moment. Their use and control of aura must be more precise. They absolutely cannot waste even the slightest amount, otherwise... they may lose their lives."

Biscuit seemed to have anticipated this situation.

"His methods of attack seem varied, but his combat thinking is actually too simplistic... without Nen's support, no matter how strong his body is or how exceptional his martial arts are, it is useless."

After hearing his teacher say that, Wing felt as though he could finally see something too.

Biscuit nodded.

"That Echimilu..."

Wing glanced at the former again.

Biscuit knew what he wanted to ask and answered directly. "The dreadlocked man should be a Transmutation user... he has been wearing headphones, so it may be related to the music he is listening to. Whether it is his punching speed or movement speed, he has been constantly 'changing frequencies'—sometimes fast, sometimes slow—making him impossible to read. That is also why the little brat is suffering."

"Playback speed?"

Wing pushed up his glasses.

"Mm... his fastest speed so far is ten times what it was at the beginning," Biscuit answered.

"Why isn't he using his ability? It looks like he has only been relying on Nen power techniques... what is his ability?"

Wing thought he had simply failed to notice it.

"I don't know... he hasn't used his ability."

Biscuit said.

"Huh?"

Wing froze.

Why? At that moment, the situation in the arena took a sharp turn.

Echimilu swung his arms as he slowly approached the heavily panting Oboro. Although the smile on his face was brilliant, his eyes were icy cold.

"Not bad. To last this long against me, honestly, you've exceeded my expectations a little."

"..."

Oboro frowned.

He discovered that he could no longer lift his left hand.

His opponent's Nen techniques were equally seasoned, but the greater gap lay in experience.

Every one of his thoughts had been seen through.

Unfortunately, his time was limited... if he had another year or two to study Nen power to a deeper level, he certainly would not be in such a sorry state...

But... wasn't this exactly why he had come to Heavens Arena? "You've seen my file, right... you also know that I've beaten to death some people onstage who weren't worthy of having their names remembered... would you mind if I added you to that list?" The dreadlocked man's grin and tone turned malicious. "Hahahaha... don't be nervous, I'm just scaring you!"

"I'm in a good mood today. I don't particularly feel like killing anyone..."

He looked at Oboro as though he were fish on a chopping board.

Victory was already in his grasp.

"Want to surrender?"

Echimilu spread his hands teasingly.

"Even if I don't beat you to death, if I hit you once more, you'll lose according to the rules... and if I fail to control my strength with the next punch..."

"Sigh."

Before the dreadlocked man could finish, Oboro suddenly smiled and sighed softly.

"You're a Transmutation user, right? You've been using that sort of 'speed-changing' ability..."

"Hm?"

Echimilu narrowed his eyes.

"Guess what kind of ability I have?"

Oboro smiled faintly at him and raised his still-mobile right hand.

"You... aren't you an Enhancement user?"

The dreadlocked man was stunned.

Although Oboro had not hit him, the destructive force he caused was no joke.

Facing the question, Oboro slowly raised his head, a chill surfacing in his deep eyes. "I hope that from here on... we can have a more enjoyable game..."

As his words fell, his voice deepened.

"Game Treasury of the Endless Dreamer!"