The group that had been cut in line were still glaring daggers at Su Wu and Maro, openly and covertly.
Su Wu had grown used to such looks and could ignore them completely, but Maro seemed a little nervous.
They crossed a corridor. Before they even reached the end, they could see the light coming from the exit and faintly hear excited cheers.
The moment they stepped out, the cheers grew at least ten times louder.
There were sixteen rings in this arena alone.
Spectator stands surrounded them on all sides, with room for more than ten thousand people.
By now, most of the seats here were already occupied.
The two found seats near the front, closest to the ring.
"I'm number 1999..." Su Wu glanced at his number.
It seemed like several thousand people competed here every day.
"I'm number 2000." Maro tightened his grip on the paper and spoke as if reporting in.
"There's no need to be so nervous. Before the 200th Floor, everyone you meet will be weak." Su Wu glanced at the anxious Maro and waved a hand, his tone casual.
There were fighters in all sixteen rings, and they were replaced quickly.
In Su Wu's opinion, it was nothing but a bunch of weaklings fighting each other.
None of them were any better than the rest, and he hadn't seen a single person who could use Nen.
They were all nobodies, not worth taking seriously.
Even the Six Eyes hadn't detected anyone with particularly strong life energy here.
There were some above the 200th Floor, though.
"That's true. They're weak compared to you, sir." Maro nodded in agreement.
Their conversation earned the two of them even more angry glares.
Those two brats sure talked big. What did they mean, everyone below the 200th Floor was weak?
They really didn't think much of the people around them!
"Contestant number 2000 and contestant number 2033, please report to Ring C."
The announcement came over the speakers.
Maro stood up nervously. "Sir, I'm going."
"Yeah." Su Wu waved dismissively, not even looking toward the ring.
He'd rather keep thinking about his ability than waste his time watching weaklings fight each other.
Using three cards with the same attribute together would produce the best effect, but if he wanted to freely choose all three, just how much would he have to give up?
With Nen abilities, you could get the result you wanted as long as you made a Restraint and Vow.
But the Restraint and Vow had to be suitable, too.
He needed some degree of control over his card choices, but the price couldn't be too high.
He didn't yet have the resolve to give up everything to get what he wanted. That kind of resolve usually came from being driven to desperation or harboring a deep-seated hatred.
But Su Wu was in neither situation. His life here had been going quite smoothly.
The right price... He'd have to think it over carefully.
"Contestant number 2000, Maro, is a newcomer competing for the first time. His age is—eighteen! Contestant number 2033 is a professional martial artist—" The host gave an enthusiastic introduction over the microphone.
"Let's take a look at their odds..."
Maro and his opponent's portraits appeared on the big screen, with their odds below.
Maro's odds were as high as 3.0.
The match on the ring continued.
A burly man swung a punch into the Blonde youth's face, knocking him to the ground.
"Contestant number 2000 has been knocked down with one punch by contestant number 2033! A clean hit for contestant number 2033, earning him one point."
"If contestant number 2033 scores ten points, he'll be declared the winner."
The blonde figure quickly got back to his feet.
"Contestant number 2000 is back on his feet!" The host excitedly narrated the match.
Number 2000? That was Maro's number, wasn't it?
Had that guy really been knocked down with one punch?
Su Wu lifted his eyelids and glanced toward the ring.
Number 2033 was a burly man two meters tall. Maro looked like a primary school student standing in front of an adult.
But still, that was no reason for Maro to get knocked down with one punch...
Su Wu propped his chin on one hand and studied the match.
"Contestant number 2033 is attacking again! Contestant number 2000 dodges—" The host continued narrating.
"Contestant number 2000 is launching an attack..."
"Contestant number 2033 hits contestant number 2000 with an elbow! A beautiful strike, earning him two points!" the scorekeeper announced loudly.
Cheers for number 2033 rang out around them.
His opponent's punches hadn't caused Maro any real harm, but that was only to be expected.
If the man had been able to injure Maro with a single punch, Su Wu would have been speechless.
"...I can't take this anymore." Su Wu sighed and called lazily toward the ring. "Hey, Maro."
The blonde youth on the ring looked over at the sound of his voice.
The White-haired boy sat in the stands along the long side of the ring, his expression blank, his eyes and brows full of boredom and fatigue.
"Watching you fight is making me sick."
"Hurry up and end this boring farce," he ordered, unconcerned.
The blonde figure still seemed rather stiff, and the match was dragging on.
"Can't do it?" The blue-eyed White-haired boy looked full of disdain.
"Then forget it. That just means you're a worthless person."
"A worthless person who can only cook has no right to follow me." He spoke with a casual air, uttering words of utter contempt.
"...I have to make sir understand... I'm not worthless." Maro clenched his fists.
His opponent wasn't that strong, and he wasn't as weak as he'd imagined, was he? After all, his opponent hadn't managed to beat him despite all this time.
So... why couldn't he be the one to win?
He didn't want to be abandoned as a worthless person.
"Have you not been using it all along? That ability," Su Wu said slowly.
"Just control it and send it out through your fists."
"Don't understand?" The White-haired boy sitting at the side of the ring seemed to let out a silent sigh.
An ability? Was he talking about that? The one the Gourmet Hunter had taught him?
Control it... send it through his fists... strike with it...
Maro raised his fist.
"Contestant number 2000 is counterattacking! He's knocked contestant number 2033 down with one punch!" The host sounded surprised as he narrated.
"One... two... three..."
"Contestant number 2033 hasn't gotten up within the allotted time! The winner is contestant number 2000!" the host announced loudly.
The audience seemed to have never expected the match to end like that, and the arena fell very quiet.
Of course, most of them might have bet on number 2033 to win. They'd lost, and their money was gone, so they could hardly cheer.
Maro returned to his seat but didn't sit down. Instead, he stood to the side and bowed apologetically to the White-haired boy. "I'm sorry, sir. My performance disappointed you."
Su Wu glanced at him indifferently, then looked away.
He wasn't disappointed, since he'd known from the start that Maro wasn't strong. Otherwise, he wouldn't have called him a monkey.
He was only a little surprised.
Because—
"It's pretty embarrassing to struggle for so long against someone who can't even use Nen," Su Wu scoffed.
He'd known Maro could use Nen from the first moment he'd seen him.
But it seemed the only technique the guy knew was Ten?
"...The Hunter I met before only taught me how to keep my aura from leaking out... He didn't teach me anything else..." Maro lowered his head and explained softly.
"...Then you really did meet an unreliable teacher," Su Wu mocked.
All he'd taught Maro was how to keep his aura from leaking out, making him more resistant to hits and better able to take a beating, huh?
"Contestant number 1999 and contestant number 2064, please report to Ring A." The announcement came over the speakers again.
Su Wu stood and headed toward the ring.
"Good luck, sir!" Maro watched the boy step onto the ring with shining eyes.
Number 2064 was a man around one meter eighty-five tall, dressed in a martial arts uniform and in his thirties. A long scar ran across his face, making him look vicious.
"So you're with that number 2000? He got lucky and beat his opponent, but you won't be so fortunate."
"You two brats should go home crying like good little boys," he mocked loudly, folding his arms.
"How dare you talk to sir like that!" Maro stood at the side of the ring, fists clenched as he glared at the man.
"Contestant number 1999 seems to be with contestant number 2000. He's also a newcomer competing for the first time..."
"And now, let the match begin!" the host announced.
The White-haired boy wore the same expressionless look, as if he might fall asleep at any moment. He didn't say a word, even when his opponent provoked him. The moment the match began, he vanished from where he stood. The man across from him was sent flying out of the ring and crashed into the wall surrounding it, leaving a crater webbed with cracks.
"Blah, blah, blah. You're so annoying." The blue-eyed White-haired boy rested one hand against the back of his neck, the other hanging naturally at his side, his gaze cold and indifferent.
The stands fell deathly silent, but the next moment, even louder cheers erupted.
Wuwuzi: You're so full of hot air. Die.
Before you continue