Trash Has No Right to Be By My Side

A group of people who had their place in line cut were still trying to kill Su Wu and Maro with their eyes, both openly and subtly.

Su Wu was well-adapted to these gazes, able to ignore them completely, but Maro seemed a little nervous.

Passing through a corridor, before even reaching the end, they could see the light from the exit and vaguely hear excited cheers.

As soon as they stepped out, the cheers intensified by at least tenfold.

On this single plot of land alone, sixteen arenas had been set up.

The spectator stands on all four sides could accommodate over ten thousand people simultaneously.

At this moment, the spectator seats on this side were about seventy to eighty percent full.

The two found seats in the front row, closest to the arenas.

"I'm number 1999..." Su Wu glanced at his number.

It seemed like at least several thousand people competed here every day.

"I'm number 2000," Maro said, clutching the paper in his hand as if reporting.

"No need to be so nervous. Before the two hundredth floor, you'll only encounter very weak guys," Su Wu said dismissively, looking at the visibly nervous Maro.

All sixteen arenas had contestants competing, and the rate of replacement was very fast.

In Su Wu's opinion, it was just a bunch of weaklings fighting each other.

None of them were any better than the others, and he hadn't even seen anyone who could use Nen.

None of them were worth paying attention to.

Even Six Eyes hadn't observed any beings with strong life energy here.

There were some above the two hundredth floor, however.

"Indeed, they are very weak compared to you, sir," Maro agreed, nodding.

This conversation once again drew many angry stares.

These two young guys sure had big mouths. What did they mean by everyone below the two hundredth floor being weak?

They clearly weren't taking them seriously at all!

"Contestant number 2000 and contestant number 2033, please proceed to Arena C."

The announcement came over the broadcast.

Maro nervously stood up. "Sir, I'm off."

"Ah," Su Wu perfunctorily raised his hand, not even glancing in the direction of the arena.

He'd rather continue contemplating his abilities than waste time watching weaklings fight.

Using three cards of the same attribute together could unleash their maximum effect, but what price would he have to pay to freely choose all three?

Nen abilities, while capable of achieving desired results through establishing conditions and vows, required suitable conditions.

He needed a certain degree of autonomy in choosing cards, but the price couldn't be too high.

He currently lacked the resolve to sacrifice everything, a resolve that typically arose in desperate situations or when fueled by deep-seated hatred.

However, Su Wu fit neither category; his life here was going quite smoothly.

The most suitable price... he needed to think carefully.

"Contestant number 2000, Maro, is a newcomer participating in his first match, aged eighteen. Contestant number 2033 is a professional martial artist—" the host passionately explained into the microphone.

"Let's see the odds for the two contestants..."

The avatars of Maro and his opponent appeared on the large screen, with their betting odds displayed below.

Maro's odds were a high 3.0.

The match on the arena continued.

A burly man threw a punch at the golden-haired youth's face, knocking him to the ground.

"Contestant 2000 has been knocked down by contestant 2033's punch! Contestant 2033 lands a hit, scoring one point."

"If they reach ten points, contestant 2033 will be declared the winner."

The golden-haired figure quickly and steadily stood up again.

"Contestant 2000 is back on his feet!" the host excitedly narrated the ongoing match.

Number 2000? That was Maro's number.

He was actually knocked down by a single punch?

Su Wu lifted his eyelids and glanced at the arena.

Number 2033 was a two-meter-tall strongman. Maro stood before him like a grade-schooler facing an adult.

But even so, that wasn't a reason for Maro to be taken down by a single punch...

Su Wu rested his chin on one hand and studied for a moment.

"Competitor number 2033 has attacked again, and competitor number 2000 dodged--" the announcer continued to explain the match.

"Competitor number 2000 has initiated an attack..."

"Competitor number 2033 landed an elbow strike on competitor number 2000, a beautiful attack, two points!" the scorer announced loudly.

Cheers of "2033" erupted from the surroundings.

The opponent's punches hadn't caused Maro any real damage, but that was to be expected.

If a single punch could injure Maro, Su Wu would be speechless.

"...I can't take it anymore," Su Wu sighed, lazily calling out towards the ring, "Hey, Maro."

The blonde youth on the stage looked over at the sound.

The white-haired boy sitting in the long side of the audience seats had a blank expression, his eyes filled with boredom and weariness.

"Watching you fight is making me sick."

"Hurry up and end this boring farce," he commanded nonchalantly.

The blonde figure still seemed somewhat restricted, making slow progress.

"Can't do it?" The white-haired, blue-eyed boy's expression was full of disdain.

"If you can't, then forget it. It just means you're trash."

"Trash who can only cook has no right to follow me," he said with an air of utter contempt, as if it were nothing.

"...If Master knew... I'm not trash," Maro clenched his fists.

The opponent wasn't really strong, and he wasn't as weak as he imagined, right? After all, they hadn't been able to defeat him for so long.

So... why couldn't the winner be him?

He didn't want to be discarded as trash.

"Aren't you always using it well? That ability," Su Wu said slowly.

"Just control it and send it out through your fist."

"Don't you understand?" The white-haired boy sitting by the ring seemed to let out a silent sigh.

An ability? Was he talking about that? The one the Gourmet Hunter taught him?

Control it... send it out through his fist...

Maro raised his fist.

"Competitor number 2000 counterattacks! He knocked down competitor number 2033 with one punch!" The announcer's tone, holding the microphone, seemed to hold a hint of surprise.

"One... two... three..."

"Competitor number 2033 did not get up within the time limit. The winner is competitor number 2000!" the announcer declared loudly.

The surrounding audience seemed taken aback by the outcome, and the atmosphere became very quiet.

Of course, it was possible that most of them had bet on number 2033 to win, and now... they had lost, their money was gone, so they really couldn't cheer.

Maro returned to his seat, but didn't sit down. Instead, he stood to the side and bowed to the white-haired boy, apologizing, "I'm sorry, Master, my performance has disappointed you."

Su Wu glanced at him indifferently and looked away.

He wasn't disappointed. After all, he knew from the beginning that Maro wasn't some powerful guy, otherwise, he wouldn't have called him "Maro" (monkey).

He was just slightly surprised.

Because--

"It's quite embarrassing to be entangled with someone who can't even use Nen for so long," Su Wu scoffed.

Maro could use Nen; Su Wu knew that the moment he first saw him.

But this guy seemed to only know how to grapple, and no other techniques?

"...Because the Hunter I met before only taught me how to control my Qi from overflowing... he didn't teach me anything else..." Maro explained softly, lowering his head.

"...Then you really met an unreliable teacher," Su Wu mocked.

He only taught him how to control his Qi from overflowing, making his durability stronger, so he could better receive beatings, right?

"Competitor number 1999 and competitor number 2064, please proceed to Ring A." The broadcast announcement sounded again.

Su Wu stood up and walked towards the ring.

"Go, Master!" Maro's eyes sparkled as he watched the boy step onto the stage.

Competitor number 2064 was a man about 1.85 meters tall, wearing a martial arts uniform, in his thirties, with a long scar across his face, looking very fierce.

"You're with that number 2000, aren't you? That guy got lucky and beat his opponent, but you won't have such good luck."

"You two brats should just go home crying," he said loudly with his arms crossed, mocking them.

"How dare you speak to Master like that!" Maro, standing by the side, clenched his fists and glared at the man gloomily.

"Competitor number 1999 seems to be with number 2000, and is also a newcomer participating for the first time..."

"Alright then, let the match begin!" the host announced.

The white-haired youth had maintained a perpetually expressionless demeanor, as if he could fall asleep at any second. Even when provoked by his opponent, he remained silent. Upon hearing the signal to start, his figure vanished from his spot. In an instant, the man opposite him was sent flying out of the ring, crashing into the outer wall and creating a crater riddled with cracks.

"All that babbling is so annoying," the white-haired, blue-eyed youth said coldly, one hand pressed to the back of his neck, the other hanging naturally by his side, his gaze indifferent.

The audience fell into a dead silence, only to erupt in even more fervent cheers the next moment.

Wuwuzi: So much pointless chatter, shut up.