The next day, Odin began his campaign on the 190th floor of Heavens Arena.
Anyone who made it this far had already surpassed the level of an "ordinary" fighter, more or less brushing against the limits of what normal people could achieve. Those monsters, of course, were another matter.
With the announcer calling his name, he approached the ring. Once again, his opponent was already waiting up there, making it look as though he was late every single time.
The man looked about thirty, with a well-proportioned build, an ordinary white martial arts uniform, and neatly cropped hair.
There was nothing fierce about his expression. If anything, he looked relaxed?
Almost lazy, even.
He stood there casually, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, without adopting any sort of defensive or offensive stance.
He was completely different from the sharp-eyed opponents Odin had faced before.
Odin stepped into the ring. Even the surface beneath his feet seemed harder than on the lower floors.
"Hey, rookie." Rom spoke first, his voice calm, with a hint of advice. "Making it this far at your age couldn't have been easy. The 190th floor is a hurdle. Things are different higher up.
"Giving up now and leaving with your previous winnings, dignity intact, would be a good choice."
Odin's brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
He had heard plenty of attempts to make him surrender on the lower floors, but most had been trash talk or psychological tactics.
Yet Rom's tone carried a certain conviction?
As though he were stating an established fact.
"Thanks for the warning," Odin replied calmly, likewise making no move to take a stance. "But I'd still like to try."
The man was definitely a Nen user, and a friendly one at that. Of course Odin wanted to take advantage of such a good opportunity.
Rom shrugged, the lazy smile still on his face. "All right. What a shame."
The referee looked between them. Once he confirmed they were ready, he swung his arm sharply downward. "Begin!"
Almost the instant the referee finished speaking, Odin's figure blurred.
Trailing a faint afterimage, he slipped into the blind spot on Rom's left and delivered a swift knife-hand strike straight at the exposed artery in his neck.
The attack was fast enough that most opponents would have had no time to react.
Smack!
The light crack was nothing like the dull sound of striking flesh. It sounded more like a hand slapping thick, taut rubber.
Rom did not even turn his head. His eyes merely shifted slightly toward Odin, and the lazy smile on his lips deepened a little.
Just as I thought! Alarm bells rang in Odin's mind.
This felt completely different from when he had used sheer speed to break through Kafura's defenses!
Kafura's defense had relied on rigorously trained muscles, bones, and techniques for dissipating force. But this man...
It was Nen!
A Nen user!
A Nen user who had mastered Ten and had most likely awakened some kind of defensive application technique!
Tch, what "great" luck, Odin grumbled inwardly. I ran into a cheater on the 190th floor? Wasn't the Nen users' territory supposed to start above the 200th? Tch, I shouldn't have let my thoughts wander last night!
Thoughts raced through his mind, but his movements did not pause for an instant.
When his strike failed, he immediately pulled back, his figure once again becoming an elusive streak as he circled Rom at high speed.
If a frontal assault would not work, he would find an opening!
He had to at least try and see whether he could handle a Nen user.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Odin left several fleeting afterimages across the ring, launching probing attacks from every angle.
Punches, knife-hand strikes, and kicks rained down on Rom's head, back, joints, and other seemingly vulnerable spots.
Smack! Bang! Thud!
A string of sharp cracks and dull impacts erupted through the ring.
Yet the result was always the same.
Every attack, no matter how tricky its angle or how fast it came, was perfectly blocked by Rom's Nen-reinforced skin.
In fact, Rom had not moved his feet once. He had not even shifted his body.
His expression remained relaxed, with a hint of amusement, like a cat toying with a mouse.
"It's no use," Rom said easily, his voice reaching Odin through the barrage of impacts. "Your speed really is incredible. You're the fastest I've ever seen.
"But your strength... still isn't enough to break through my defense.
"Give up. Your attacks don't work on me."
The spectators were already in an uproar.
They could not make out Odin's actual movements. All they saw were countless afterimages circling the immovable Rom, accompanied by an endless series of collisions that sounded like blows landing on rubber.
The sight of Odin ineffectually chipping away at his opponent stood in stark contrast to his previous style of instant victories decided with a single blow.
Only Karaf on the 150th floor had received this kind of treatment.
"What's going on? Odin's attacks aren't working?"
"What did Rom do? How is his skin that tough?!"
"They're incredible! Both of them! If I went up there, I doubt I'd last even a second!"
Odin paid them no attention. With his accelerated thinking, he calmly analyzed the situation.
Physical attacks don't work at all? No, my strength must just be too low. Unless I instantly increase the Rabbit Talisman's output to supersonic levels, then perhaps the terrifying kinetic energy could tear through this defense.
But there's no need to do that. He swiftly dismissed the idea of forcing his way through.
His Ten covers his whole body, but he doesn't seem able to maintain it for long, and the energy isn't distributed completely evenly.
Unfortunately, I can't see Nen. That leaves only one option.
Odin's gaze sharpened.
He stopped his pointless barrage, and his figure abruptly solidified five meters directly in front of Rom.
"What? Finally accepted reality?" Rom asked, perfectly at ease.
Odin did not answer. He took a deep breath.
Then his feet began stepping and shifting within a small area at an extremely high frequency, his body crouched slightly.
The next second, before Rom and every spectator, Odin's figure abruptly split in two! Then two became four!
Four identical "Odins" appeared in the ring, positioned in front of, behind, and to either side of Rom!
Their movements, expressions, and even the hems of their clothes fluttering from their high-speed movement were exactly alike!
"Four of him!" Cries of astonishment erupted from the stands.
Through repeated practice, Odin had reached the point where he could create three reasonably convincing afterimages at once, each lasting about two seconds!
For the first time, the lazy smile froze on Rom's face. A flicker of astonishment crossed his eyes.
"Clones? No, afterimages created by speed?" Instinctively, he became a little more serious.
At that instant, as the multiple Odins drew his attention!
All four "Odins" moved at once! The two in front charged fearlessly toward him, while those on either side took up positions for a pincer attack.
With a low shout, Rom crossed his arms in front of him, ready to withstand what appeared to be an attack from every direction.
Yet the expected impact never came.
The two "Odins" directly in front of him vanished like bubbles the instant they touched his Ten-they were only afterimages! The attacks from either side likewise struck nothing!
Damn! A feint! Rom realized instantly.
But his awareness was still a beat too slow.
The real Odin had raised his speed to a whole new level the instant the afterimages captured Rom's attention! Rather than attacking from any of those directions, he slid along the ground like a phantom, aiming straight for the back of Rom's right ankle, the foot bearing his weight!
Bang!
A solid collision of flesh rang out. It still did nothing!
But Odin had known that attack could not succeed. It had merely been a probe.
Like a spring compressed to its limit, Odin shot up from the ground!
He swiftly wrapped both arms around Rom, then used his waist as a pivot and hurled him out of the ring with all his strength.
This was his real attack. If he could not break through Rom's defense, he would use the rules and force him out of bounds.
No matter how strong his defense was, his body still weighed only sixty or seventy kilograms. Odin could lift him.
Rom felt an utterly irresistible force surge from his waist. It wrenched him upward, lifting both feet off the ground and sending him flying uncontrollably backward like a stone launched from a catapult!
He tried to adjust his posture in midair, but the powerful momentum rendered every effort futile.
BOOM!!
With a crash far heavier than any of the previous impacts, Rom's back slammed solidly into the floor outside the ring.
The entire arena on the 190th floor fell deathly silent.
Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at the black-haired young man panting slightly in the ring, then at Rom below, who sprang back to his feet the instant he hit the ground, disbelief written all over his face.
Even the referee froze for several seconds before suddenly coming to his senses. He rushed forward and raised his right arm, his voice cracking with excitement:
"O-out of bounds! Rom is out of bounds! The winner is Odin!"
After a brief silence, the stands erupted like boiling oil, exploding with deafening cheers and chatter!
"He won?! He won! Honey, did you see that? I won my bet!"
"How did he win? I didn't see a thing! Damn it, I lost so much!"
"It was those afterimages! He used them to fool Rom!"
"That was amazing!"
"..."
Odin stood in the center of the ring, slowly straightening as he steadied his slightly rapid breathing.
That final burst had used up some stamina, but he was still fine.
He glanced at the stunned Rom below the ring. The man was staring at him with an incredibly complicated look, filled with shock, confusion, and a hint of feeling that this was absurd?
Rom seemingly had never imagined that a Nen user could lose to an ordinary person.
No, I didn't lose. I'm not hurt. I was only held back by the rules of the match!
But Rom soon made sense of his situation and regained his composure.
Looks like Nen users really are impossible to deal with, Odin muttered inwardly.
He walked to the edge of the ring and nodded at Rom, then turned his gaze toward the elevators leading to the higher floors.
Anyone who wanted to go above the 200th floor could go right ahead.
"Tch. What a pain," he muttered.
The referee handed him the slip signifying his victory.
Odin accepted it and nodded. Without lingering any longer, he turned and headed for the competitors' passage.
He went to the counter to collect the prize money from his hard-earned victory, then left without hesitation.
Before you continue