Killua X Takes the Stage

"Here it is—Killua's signature Cat's Footsteps observation!"

On the arena floor, Killua circled his opponent, observing him without rashly making a move.

His family's principles made observation his usual opening move in battle: determine whether the enemy was someone he could handle, and ideally finish them with a single lethal strike.

"Gojo charges in! He's the first to attack—will this strike earn him a point?!"

The boy on the other side had already rushed forward, his steps light and swift, his speed astonishing.

A whipping kick.

"I won't underestimate you because of your age. As long as you're my opponent, I'll give it everything I have! Even if you already lost twice in your matches on the 100th Floor."

Ao Gojo spoke sternly, his childish face filled with seriousness.

He had watched the recordings. Killua's previous two losses had both ended with him conceding.

Yet he had injured both of his opponents, while suffering barely any damage himself.

"Tch. This time, I'm definitely winning."

Killua crouched to evade the whipping kick. He brought the fingers of his right hand together, and his protruding nails sharpened like razor blades.

He was even faster than his opponent. In practically the blink of an eye, his attack was about to reach Gojo's throat.

Gojo's eyes widened, and every hair on his body stood on end. All he felt was the threat of death.

Following through from his earlier whipping kick, he twisted his entire body with all his strength.

After that exchange, the two had switched positions.

Gojo stared at his opponent solemnly, then reached up to touch his neck. Blood stained his hand.

The referee raised a flag.

"Valid hit! Contestant Killua takes the first point!"

Victory at Sky Arena was determined by a point system.

Valid hit: 1 point

Lethal hit: 2 points

The conditions for victory were reaching 10 points or directly knocking out the opponent.

The referees present determined whether a point was awarded. There was no need to question their professionalism—they were unquestionably among the best in the world.

Many referees were formidable fighters themselves, and Sky Arena had almost never seen cases of arbitrary scoring.

A smug smile appeared on Killua's childish face.

Kevin, mixed in among the cheering crowd in the stands, frowned.

"How is even a little kid better than me? This world really is dangerous."

He meant in terms of fighting technique.

The battle in the arena continued.

However, the situation had reversed from the beginning. Killua now took the offensive, while Gojo was forced onto the defensive.

Killua's attacks in particular were exceptionally lethal every time.

The score quickly reached eight to two.

"This Gojo should be stronger than Killua's previous opponent, right? So why does Killua have such an overwhelming advantage instead?" an enthusiast beside Kevin asked.

The person who answered was clearly an old Killua fan. He said smugly, "Then you don't understand. That kid is really strong, and he improves in every match. I watched him personally climb from the 1st Floor to the 140th Floor in just two months.

"Last time, I thought he had a chance too, but for some reason, he conceded after getting hit a few times. Maybe he's just too young and doesn't have enough stamina."

Kevin watched the battle while listening to the conversations among the enthusiasts beside him.

He had to admit that these fighting enthusiasts who had spent years watching matches at the arena really had sharp eyes.

At least before receiving Biscuit's training, his eye for combat might not have been better than theirs.

They really are impressive.

"That little kid is so cruel. Every one of his attacks is aimed at killing his opponent," a middle-aged man said with some displeasure.

The person beside him was clearly another Killua fan. "You're not from this country, are you?"

"What? Is there a problem with that?!" The middle-aged man frowned and asked irritably.

This was the Minba Republic, one of the Five Great Powers. As a resident of the country, a certain degree of pride was only natural.

The fan waved a hand and smiled. "I'm not trying to mock you, but Killua is a Zoldyck."

"What's wrong with that name?"

"Of course there is. They're the famous assassin family. They're legal assassins from the Batochia Republic, the country next to ours. Amazing, right?"

"Something like that exists?"

At that moment, a whistle sounded from the arena.

"Lethal hit! The winner is Killua! A 150th Floor contestant at only six years old!"

With his victory, Killua successfully advanced to the 150th Floor.

Cheers surged through the stands like a tidal wave.

Meanwhile, Gojo had already collapsed on the arena floor, clutching his abdomen as blood poured out. Doctors who had been waiting nearby had begun treating him.

Aside from some dust on his clothes, Killua looked almost completely unchanged.

He wore a sunny, childlike smile and waved to the spectators in the stands, triggering even more screams.

Kevin was already filling out a form at the registration counter.

He listened as the attendant beside him explained Sky Arena's rules.

The higher the floor, the greater the prize money. After the 100th Floor, contestants were also provided with private rooms, furnished to five-star hotel standards.

Every ten floors counted as a tier. The 100th Floor and 200th Floor were both major dividing lines. Matches above the 200th Floor no longer offered prize money and were more about honor.

The prizes were also extremely generous. Matches above the 100th Floor offered prizes in the millions, while those above the 150th Floor rose into the tens of millions.

The 190th Floor awarded two hundred million outright.

No wonder this place gathered so many martial artists. It was all about the money.

"Would you like to fight now?"

"There's a match available now?" Kevin asked in surprise.

The staff member nodded. "If you agree, we can arrange a fight immediately."

"Then arrange it."

Kevin barely had to wait before someone led him into the arena.

As a newly registered contestant on the 1st Floor, the arena in front of him was clearly on the smaller side.

Still, interestingly enough, even the stands for 1st Floor fighters were almost full.

While waiting to prepare, Kevin rested in the contestant lounge and watched the fights outside through the television screen in front of him.

He quickly understood why even the lowest-level matches drew so many viewers.

People were placing bets. That was Sky Arena's real main source of income.

Many people watched these early matches closely, picking out those with potential and betting on them all the way up.

Kevin watched match after match.

These fights ended very quickly. Either there was a massive gap in strength and one side was directly knocked out, or two weaklings pecked at each other until the score filled up.

"Contestant Kevin, it's your turn."

Kevin stood and headed for the arena.

Since fights were constantly taking place in the lower-floor arenas, there were no dedicated commentators, only several rotating referees.

It was only when Kevin stepped onto the platform that he saw his opponent.

He seemed about the same age as Kevin? He looked to be in his teens as well.

That was right. This body had only just turned twenty. It was undoubtedly a top student.

"White hair again?" Kevin couldn't help muttering.

His opponent was a tall, thin young man. The most eye-catching features were his long white hair and the Newsboy Cap on his head.

Don't tell me he's from some assassin family too?

Although people in this world had all sorts of hair colors, white hair was still relatively rare.

"Hello, my name is Kite." His opponent introduced himself gently.

He didn't seem like it.

Still, Kevin did not relax. He frowned and remained on guard.

"Yeah, I'm Kevin."

Just my luck. My first opponent is actually a Nen user.

Among so many fighters, he had barely seen any Nen users, yet he had encountered one in his very first match.

Could Nen users be drawn to each other too?