"Dear audience, it's that exhilarating moment once more… Which newcomer will step onto the stage next? What style of martial arts do they practice? What sort of appearance do they have—will it win the audience's favor? Might they astound us all in a single go and jump directly above the 50th floor…?"
"Oh!!! Our big screens are already showing information about this new challenger."
"My goodness, it's actually an adorable girl. We haven't seen a younger contestant in some time… Let's give her a warm round of applause!"
In the 1st-floor competition arena of Heavens Arena, Xiang Nan casually found an open seat and sat down, his gaze turning to the ring in the center. At that moment, the professional female announcer was holding a microphone, speaking with great enthusiasm.
Because it was a newcomer's match, the crowd in this bracket of Heavens Arena was relatively small compared to higher floors. Still, given the massive audience base of Heavens Arena, even a "fewer" crowd amounted to well over a thousand spectators—just that there were plenty of empty seats left. And truth be told, most people only came for a bit of fun, with minimal expectations of the match.
But that hardly dampened the female announcer's passion. She was going all-out, giving a lively introduction of the contestants' registered information for those onsite and for the live broadcast viewers.
From one of the entrance tunnels, Manman emerged under the spotlights, drawing a low rumble of discussion from the seating area. Most spectators, though, were only intrigued by her young appearance or just mildly curious. A few more kindly souls worried she might get hurt.
Standing at the opposite tunnel exit was a man clearly weighing over 200 pounds, sporting a mohawk—quite an attention-grabbing look. Side by side, Manman was like a small lamb in contrast.
"Maita, what do you think?"
The female announcer was doing all she could to fuel the spectators' excitement. As Manman and the mohawk man were about to enter the ring, she turned around and asked her male co-commentator.
"Hm… Since I started as a match commentator, I've seen my share of young fighters, but most are boys. Girls, not so many," the male partner responded, appearing worried for Manman. "Her signup data shows no background in martial arts or specific fighting style. From her outfit and slender physique, she doesn't look like a professional fighter… She seems more like someone who joined for the fun of it. Meanwhile, her opponent, Mochi, has three years of competition experience as a wrestler and is fairly well-known back home."
"Given Manman's sweet and innocent look, hopefully Mochi goes easy on her."
The male and female announcers swiftly locked onto their main talking point for this match: the stark difference in outward strength between Manman and Mochi, building audience sympathy for Manman. After all, working on the 1st floor meant handling a large volume of daily matches; no matter who the fighters were, the announcers needed to find an angle of interest so viewers wouldn't lose attention before it even began.
They chatted a bit more with the ringside judges too. The judges were likewise seasoned folks, mostly echoing concerns for Manman, but one older man with a balding head—an experienced judge nearing retirement—stood out. He said that younger female challengers like Manman were rare but could turn out to be a "dark horse." If someone dared enter the brutal Heavens Arena, it meant they had a certain confidence in their abilities.
Soon enough, with Manman and the wrestler both standing at their marks, the match officially kicked off.
Before starting, Manman politely bowed to Mochi. The latter, however, wore a look of displeasure—he seemed to feel that meeting such a frail girl right in his first match wouldn't show off his prowess, plus it might make him look like a bully, tarnishing his "fighter image" in the eyes of the audience.
After all, at Heavens Arena, fighters are essentially celebrities with fan followings, so image-building matters. The announcers' narrative had effectively painted him as "the villain picking on a young girl," and some in the crowd were booing at him or cheering for Manman.
He felt wrongly accused. He advised Manman to forfeit, but she just shook her head. The moment the bout began, Mochi simply strode forward and planted himself in front of Manman, intending to seize her, walk her straight to the ring's edge, and put her out gently. While that would quickly end the match with a TKO, he doubted it'd earn him many "style points," and so his advancement to higher floors would likely remain modest.
Judging by Manman's expression—already trembling and frightened, eyes half-shut—Mochi figured he had the match won. He pressed his big hands onto her shoulders, lifting her petite body, carrying her toward the ring's boundary. Some spectators, feeling sorry for her, cried out in worry—though overall, there wasn't much suspense.
The older judge who suspected Manman might be a dark horse could only give an awkward cough.
Suddenly, perhaps realizing she was not in immediate peril, Manman opened her eyes. She glanced briefly at the spectators. Then, mid-air in the midst of being carried away, she unexpectedly swung a small fist at Mochi's belly.
His thick layer of fat seemed to yield as her hand practically sank straight into it.
Instantly, the unguarded wrestler's eyes bulged, his entire motion halted.
He loosened his grip, releasing Manman, then staggered backward, foaming at the mouth, eyes rolling up as he collapsed to the mat.
"Oh my god!!!"
"What just happened?!?!"
"Mochi is down, completely KO'd by one punch from Manman! He's out cold!"
At ringside, the female announcer let out a shrill cry, and the spectators erupted in a mild uproar. Nobody had expected Manman to win so decisively. Even those who initially found her to be a possible underdog were astonished.
Meanwhile, Xiang Nan, seated off to the side, calmly rose and headed toward the hallway. Throughout the arena, the host and spectators were all busy exclaiming at the result.
At that moment, Xiang Nan glanced discreetly toward a seat some 20–30 meters away, on his right. A muscular man in a T-shirt was watching the ring and no longer paying attention to Xiang Nan. That man had been shadowing Xiang Nan all along.
Seeing the T-shirt man's focus momentarily elsewhere, Xiang Nan curved his lips into a faint grin, buried his hands in his pockets, and walked out of the venue.
The T-shirt man, realizing Xiang Nan was leaving, got up and followed. He had fully expected this outcome: even a weak Nen user could crush an ordinary fighter. However, from the match, the man deduced Manman clearly lacked real combat experience or composure. She hardly posed a threat.
The real unknown, it seemed, was the man in the black coat—if he truly was a Nen user, then his knack for camouflaging his aura was scarily thorough. Even after trailing him for so long, the T-shirt man still couldn't confirm anything.
~~~
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