Heaven's Arena

The airship passed through the clouds above the Republic of Padokea.

Gon leaned against the cabin window, his forehead almost touching the glass. Killua sat beside him with his legs crossed, crumpling the wrapper from his last chocolate bar and stuffing it into his pocket.

They had spent every last coin they had on the two airship tickets. Their pockets were empty.

"Once we win at the arena, we'll get prize money," Gon said.

"Let's win first. The first floor's prize money is only enough for a can of juice." Killua stuffed the wrapper into the seat-back pocket.

The airship flew on.

At the far edge of the horizon, a colossal circular tower rose abruptly through the clouds. It stood straight and sheer, several times taller than any mountain around it—991 meters high, with 251 floors, the fourth-tallest building in the world. Its top vanished into the mist, too high to see.

Gon's eyes went wide. His mouth fell slightly open, and he leaned forward, staring at the distant Tower.

"It's so tall... I've never seen a building this big."

His voice was soft, as though he were afraid of disturbing something. He couldn't look away. He was transfixed, his eyes full of wonder.

Killua remained comparatively calm. He narrowed his eyes slightly and leaned against the window with his arms folded.

His father had dumped him here when he was six, and it had taken him two years to reach the 199th floor. He knew the Tower inside out—the dimensions of each floor's ring, the prize money at every level, even how long he had to wait for each elevator. More than four thousand challengers registered to compete here every day, and annual attendance exceeded a billion visits.

He had already mapped out how the two of them would train. Judging by the explosive power Gon had shown during the Hunter Exam, no one below the hundredth floor would be a match for him. The problem was what came after the 150th floor. Those semi-professional fighters had begun to brush against the threshold of Nen, while neither of them had any idea what it was.

"Don't talk too much or draw attention to yourself later," he told Gon, turning toward him. "It'll be better for us to keep a low profile here."

As the airship approached, the Tower's outline grew clearer. Its floors rose in stacked rings, its sheer bulk imposing. Every floor had its own fighting ring, with room for hundreds of spectators. The Tower housed not just rings but restaurants, a shopping mall, and all kinds of entertainment facilities. At its base, people swarmed like ants. Fighters, spectators, and contestants from all over the world packed the plaza out front.

The airship landed.

The two entered the city around the arena and walked all the way to the foot of the Tower.

The streets bustled. Vendors hawked papers predicting match results, spectators carried banners for their favorites, and fighters gathered in small groups. The charred aroma of grilled meat mingled with the smell of fresh bread. Posters of past floor masters covered the storefronts. A few children crouched by the roadside, drawing a ring in chalk and play-fighting as their favorite competitors.

Gon kept his head tipped back the whole way. Even when his neck began to ache, his eyes shone with excitement, and he couldn't help walking faster. The Tower climbed straight into the sky, floor after floor circling upward, while the lower levels rang with the roar of the crowds.

Killua walked easily, leading the way like someone who knew it by heart.

"I spent two years here before. My dad dumped me here when I was six," he said as they walked. "You start fighting on the first floor. Win a match and you go up ten floors; lose and you drop ten. Above the 200th floor, it's a whole different world, with different rules. But let's get to the hundredth floor first."

"You drop ten floors if you lose?" Gon's eyes widened.

"So we can't lose. The higher you go, the bigger the prizes and the stronger the opponents. Above the hundredth floor, you get a private room and free food. We won't have to worry about where to stay anymore. Above the 200th, you get a luxury suite and a whole floor to yourself—but that's a long way off. Let's not think about it yet."

Gon's eyes lit up even more at the words "free room."

They entered the registration hall on the first floor. People surged through it, and the air smelled of sweat, disinfectant, and roasted corn. Enormous portraits of past floor masters hung overhead, their gold frames gleaming under the lights. The lines held heavily muscled fighters, boys in martial arts uniforms, and a few gray-haired veterans.

A staff member handed them two entry forms. Name, age, fighting experience, personal introduction.

Killua immediately lowered his voice and warned Gon, his expression serious. "Don't put down what you can really do. Say you're an ordinary beginner with no experience. Hide your strength on purpose."

"Why?"

"If they see how strong you are, the higher-ups will notice you right away, and we'll still have to work our way up from the first floor. That's a waste of time. Keep the form modest, then start higher up."

Gon obediently filled out the form, earnest as ever. He followed Killua's instructions exactly, describing himself as a newcomer who knew nothing about fighting.

Once they finished, the staff arranged a basic fitness test. They completed each test in turn. The examiner studied their results for a few seconds, then looked up at them.

"Registration is complete. Please proceed to the combat area for your matches."

Gon was bursting with excitement. His palms itched; he couldn't wait to get in the ring and train.

Killua looked perfectly at ease, a smile playing at his lips. He planned to earn money while helping Gon grow stronger fast. Sooner or later, they would catch up to Hisoka.

The doors to the combat area opened. The two walked in.

In front of the television, Genos scooped the last spoonful of rice from the cooker into his bowl and sat back down at the coffee table.

On the screen, the doors were slowly closing.

Heaven's Arena. The fourth-tallest building in the Hunter World. Its summit was shrouded in sightseeing clouds all year round. Even through the screen, he could hear the spectators cheering at the lower-level rings.

"They've finally reached the next stage."

He picked up a slice of pickled radish. Chewed twice. Then put down his chopsticks.

Wait!!! What's going on?!

Why are there only two of them?

Saitama isn't there.

Genos's chopsticks froze in midair. He hit pause and rewound the footage—the airship landing, Gon and Killua entering the arena, filling out their forms, taking the fitness test. The doors opened, and the two walked in. Not a single shot of Saitama appeared from beginning to end.

He frowned and rewound farther.

The foot of Kukuroo Mountain. The four of them going their separate ways. Kurapika headed toward Yorknew City. Leorio headed toward medical school. Gon and Killua left for Heaven's Arena.

He remembered that scene clearly.

Then he had paused the video to use the bathroom.

That was the part.

He sat back down at the coffee table and dragged the footage back half a frame.

In the earlier footage, the four were still saying goodbye beside the Trial Gate. The door leading to the banquet room stood open, and through an arched window in the corridor, he could see the copper pot on the long table still bubbling away.

Saitama sat at the long table.

He fished a slice of marbled wagyu from the copper pot and slowly dipped it in sesame sauce. After a couple of dips, he put it in his mouth, chewed, then fished out another slice.

He showed no sign of leaving.

Several bottles of dipping sauce stood on the condiment counter beside him. Sesame sauce, minced garlic, chili oil, chive flower sauce, fermented tofu. All free.

Genos picked up his chopsticks again.

So Saitama was still eating hot pot. He hadn't gotten separated from them; he just hadn't finished eating.

He put the pickled radish in his mouth.

"It is free, after all."

His chopsticks reached into the bowl again. On the screen, the doors opened once more. Once Saitama finishes that plate of wagyu, he'll probably have used up the dipping sauce, too. Then he'll show up at the arena entrance with a takeout box in hand.