On the outskirts of Yorknew City.
An abandoned building stood.
The light was dim, and dust filled the air.
Rubble and rusty rebar lay everywhere.
In the center of the hall.
A large stone slab served as a table.
Gon and Nobunaga sat facing each other.
Their right hands were clasped in an arm-wrestling match.
Gon was drenched in sweat.
Veins bulged at his temples, and his teeth were clenched tight.
He threw every ounce of strength into forcing Nobunaga's wrist down.
Across from him, Nobunaga looked perfectly relaxed.
He barely exerted himself, merely holding his position.
Smack.
Nobunaga suddenly drove his wrist down.
The back of Gon's hand slammed hard against the stone slab.
Several cracks spread across it.
The skin on the back of Gon's hand had scraped open.
Blood ran between his fingers and dripped onto the slab.
"You lost."
Nobunaga spoke coldly.
"That's eight times."
Not far away.
Killua lay tossed among the rubble in a corner, his hands tied behind his back.
He stared fixedly at them.
He watched Gon lose over and over, then offer his bleeding hand again each time.
Killua's fists were clenched tight.
This was all my fault.
I was too confident. That was how we ended up like this.
"Again."
Gon wiped away his sweat with his left hand and held out his right once more.
His eyes held a frightening stubbornness.
Something stirred in Nobunaga as he looked into those unyielding eyes.
That temper.
That stubborn streak.
He was the spitting image of Uvogin.
That battle maniac.
He'd only been rescued today, and before his injuries had even healed, he was already shouting about tearing that chain user apart.
Not even ten oxen could hold him back.
Nobunaga sighed and released his hand.
"No more arm wrestling."
He dropped