Hello everyone, this is Gon Freecss! Kastro is even stronger than I expected, and I'm having a blast. I guess it just proves that deviants who rely on cheap tricks are no good. A head-on battle is the ultimate strategy.
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(Honestly, to think that even my full-power attacks, including my Hatsu, are no longer effective… his toughness is astounding. My only choice now is to follow Mr. Gordeau's example and aim for a win on points.)
Though Kastro had been on the verge of breaking mentally, it was no exaggeration to say that he had dominated the entire match in terms of performance. It was only natural, given that he had been landing blows one-sidedly while his opponent hadn't so much as scratched him. But he couldn't let his guard down for a single moment, knowing that if even one of Gon's attacks connected, the entire fight could be overturned.
(He certainly has power and speed. His technique is at a level that no ordinary martial artist could hope to match.)
Gon's abnormal physical abilities, which combined a level of offensive power he had never encountered with top-class speed, his proficient technical skill, and his exceptional body control that allowed him to wield it all perfectly, were nothing short of astonishing.
(But it's a shame… he's just too straightforward!)
This single point was what allowed Kastro to maintain his one-sided assault. At the same time, there was something nostalgic, almost enviable, about Gon's age-appropriately honest way of thinking. The pureness of only thinking about reaching the top, with no doubt that he could get there, was a privilege of youth that eroded with age.
In a brief opening between Kastro's combinations, Gon once again unleashed his fastest punch. But if a simple, fast punch was all it took to win, martial arts would never have developed to this day. Kastro dodged it and deliberately launched an attack that he knew Gon could block. The moment Gon defended and shifted his focus to his own attack, Kastro activated his Hatsu.
It was Doppelgänger. Another Kastro, made of aura, appeared and delivered an uppercut to Gon's chin. As Gon's head was snapped back, leaving him defenseless, the two Kastros mercilessly pummeled his body from both sides, finishing with a synchronized roundhouse kick to the same spot that sent him flying.
"Clean hit and a down!! Kastro, total nine points!"
Almost every spectator in the arena was now certain of Kastro's victory. Gon had been in a tight spot on points against Gordeau, but in this match, he had barely shown any flashes of brilliance and had clearly taken damage. Everyone thought a comeback was impossible.
(If this continues, I'll win for sure… but in the world of martial arts, things rarely go so smoothly.)
Kastro watched the sprawled-out Gon without letting his guard down. Seeing the smile still on Gon's face and remembering the feel of his body from their many exchanges, he braced himself, knowing the real fight was about to begin.
"Additional Withdrawal: Even More Power!"
With a small whisper, Gon's body bounced up into the air. He landed lightly on his feet, now clad in muscles that were another size larger. He took a deep breath, and it was as if every single muscle fiber was being drawn taut like wire.
"Hmph. To think you still have another level beyond this… I apologize for being such an unworthy opponent."
"Ah, no, this is just me being selfish, so I'm the one who should feel sorry."
After what seemed to be a mutual, wry apology, their expressions immediately shifted back to battle-hungry grins as they took their stances.
"I don't mind at all," Kastro said. "I have undoubtedly grown from this, and as one who walks the path of martial arts, I naturally wish to win. Besides, this has reminded me that martial arts are inherently cunning. I have no hesitation or regret in winning this way."
Kastro's stance radiated a dignified fighting spirit, his aura completely unclouded. He preemptively summoned his doppelgänger to increase his number of attacks and, unlike the buzzing crowd, declared to the utterly unfazed Gon:
"With this True Tiger Bite Fist, a technique that surpasses the original through my Doppelgänger, I will seize victory!"
Two tigers leaped, ready to tear their prey apart.
With Kastro only one point away from victory, the referee focused his gaze even more intently, watching the fighters' every move. His scoring up to this point had been rather vague, taking into account the damage and treating combinations as single attacks. But with only one point left, he had resolved to call the match the instant a clean hit landed.
(…Okay, I can't see anything, but I can tell he's not getting hit!)
He had been momentarily stunned when Kastro suddenly split in two, and then he thought the match was over as they launched a ferocious assault from both sides. But then Gon's arms seemed to disappear, deflecting every single attack. For this referee, whose sharp eyes had been the deciding factor in his assignment to this match, being unable to follow Gon's movements felt like a defeat in itself.
(But what is that movement!? There's none of the usual acceleration or deceleration… It's like he's constantly switching between 0 and 100. That should be impossible for a human, shouldn't it?)
He had become a staff member at Heaven's Arena because he was a fanatical fighting freak, but he had no martial arts experience himself. His better-than-average dynamic vision and the knowledge he had gained from watching countless matches were insufficient to comprehend Gon's movements.
(Man, Gon gets bigger and Kastro multiplies… the Floor Master class has definitely quit being human.)
He had been in charge of the 200th floor, the highest rank, for about ten years. If he hadn't had a similar experience during the Battle Olympia, Heaven's Arena's greatest festival, he might have made a fool of himself. But he maintained his dignified composure, never letting on that he couldn't follow the action, and continued to watch over the match.
All for the sake of fulfilling his duty: to experience the greatest of matches from the closest possible vantage point and to conclude it in the best possible way.
(Don't hesitate, me! Don't stumble over your words, me! I will absolutely nail this final declaration!)
Next to the two fighters locked in a life-or-death struggle, another warrior was fighting his own battle, his eyes bloodshot as he waited for the moment of conclusion.
As he attacked alongside his doppelgänger, Kastro correctly interpreted the message in Gon's eyes and their exchanges.
(I thought I understood, but there are some things you can only learn in a real fight.)
The battle with Gon was highlighting every weakness and area for improvement in his Doppelgänger technique, things he could never have fully grasped while training alone. The most obvious issue was the clone's controllability. Since he had to manually control it to use the Tiger Bite Fist instead of letting it act automatically, the precision of its movements was inevitably compromised when they attacked simultaneously.
Gon, meanwhile, was constantly identifying the real Kastro by the sharpness of his movements and adjusting his defense accordingly, allowing him to handle the onslaught from both. Furthermore, by using Muscle Dialogue to apply a form of Prison only to his muscles, Gon had succeeded in boosting his physical abilities without injuring himself.
After several minutes of being unable to break Gon's defense, Kastro broke away to reset. He positioned his doppelgänger on the opposite side of the ring as he caught his breath and observed.
"Wouldn't it be better to have your double keep attacking while you rest? You could wear down my stamina that way."
"I'm not that arrogant. If I cannot reach you with two of us, a single body will just be intercepted. I don't have the luxury of wasting aura," Kastro replied.
As they watched each other warily, a strange sense of camaraderie began to form, perhaps a mutual understanding born from their long battle. Gon, in particular, was thrilled. With Netero having been effectively retired until recently, his encounters with martial artists like Gordeau who aimed for the top were few and far between.
"Whew… You offered advice during your match with Mr. Gordeau. Do you not have any for me?" Kastro asked. His breathing had steadied, and he was ready for the next exchange, but he had sensed something in Gon's gaze and decided to ask himself.
"…I was just thinking about why you chose yourself for your doppelgänger. Not extra limbs, or a bunch of puppets, or a tiger… but another you. I was thinking about why you conjured—why you could conjure—another you."
"I see. It is shameful to admit, but I already have the answer myself. I am afraid of Hisoka. I lack the courage to face him one-on-one, yet my twisted pride demands that I be the one to confront him. My doppelgänger was born from that conflict."
As Kastro spoke self-deprecatingly, his words laced with anguish and regret, Gon shook his head once, then looked back and forth between the doppelgänger and the original before stating with certainty:
"An Enhancer's doppelgänger isn't so simple that it can be created from such a weak feeling. Judging by your words, you're probably not even aware of it, but the reason I came up with is completely different."
Ignoring Kastro, who was too stunned by his bluntness to reply, Gon voiced his conclusion.
"That doppelgänger is the idealized version of yourself that you imagined. Unafraid, unwavering, a master of the Tiger Bite Fist who would die for the Tiger Bite Fist. The one you wish to become, your ideal self, is what you conjured as your Doppelgänger."
The moment he understood those words, Kastro felt a connection to his doppelgänger that he had never felt before. The days after his loss to Hisoka, the days he had spent developing his Hatsu, flashed through his mind—the desperate struggle to reclaim his shattered confidence and pride, and the one thing he had clung to.
It was, indeed, the Tiger Bite Fist, and the self who had trained in it so single-mindedly.
Before he knew it, Kastro's gaze was no longer on Gon, but on the doppelgänger beyond him. A perfect copy that not even his parents, his former master, or even he himself could distinguish from the original.
"You shouldn't need to control your double," Gon said. "Because your Hatsu isn't really 'Doppelgänger.' It should be… 'Kastro.'"
As if to snap the dazed Kastro out of it, Gon took a stance. But Kastro's gaze remained unfocused, so Gon threw a punch. Kastro parried it as if on instinct and, along with his equally unfocused double, began a new assault, one that was not only unchanged from before but had gained even more sharpness.
As the attacks grew increasingly sharp and Gon's composure began to fade, a gear clicked firmly into place inside Kastro's mind. The shock of it made him freeze for a fraction of a second.
"Ah, crap—!"
In that moment of lost composure, a punch from Gon literally obliterated Kastro's body from the chest up.
Just as Killua and the others shouted, "He did it!" and prepared to rush the ring, just as the crowd began to let out screams of horror…
Tap… Kastro's doppelgänger landed a blow on Gon's cheek that was little more than a touch.
In the venue, now wrapped in a silence as if time had stopped, the body of the original Kastro vanished like smoke.
"HIT! Kastro, total points—!"
As the referee raised his voice to declare Kastro's victory, he saw a figure collapsing in the ring. He stared for several seconds as Kastro fell in slow motion, then glanced back and forth between him and Gon a few times before closing his eyes, crossing his arms, and declaring the end of the match.
"KNOCKOUT!! The winner is… Gon!!"
Amidst the thunderous applause, the victor with zero points stood frozen, his face twisted in frustration. The loser with ten points sank to the ring with a satisfied smile.
"Alright, Gon, sit down. Seiza. You're under suspicion of attempted murder."
"I can't defend you this time either. The only praiseworthy point is that you didn't injure yourself, but you should have shifted down a gear in that final exchange."
"I can't heal someone who's been blown to bits, you know! Sorry for being such a third-rate Nen user!"
In the waiting room after the match, Gon sat in a formal kneeling position as Killua, Kurapika, and Leorio surrounded him, each nagging him with their own complaints. Gon himself, having thought for a moment that he had killed Kastro, accepted their scolding with a mixture of resignation and lingering confusion.
"Alright, everyone, that's enough. Heaven's Arena issues licenses to kill, remember? If it were intentional it would be one thing, but this was an accident, so please leave it at that."
Wing, who had let them have their say for a while, finally intervened, his tone slightly intimidating as he put a stop to their kangaroo court. He then asked for Gon's perspective on the phenomenon at the end of the match.
"It seems like what I said hit the mark. I didn't expect him to awaken to that extent, but thanks to that, I'm glad I didn't end up killing him."
The awakening of Kastro's Hatsu, Doppelgänger—it was no longer a mere clone, but a second, genuine Kastro.
"I thought something was strange," Gon explained. "If you just want to increase your numbers, there are better ways to do it. But he conjured such a perfect copy of himself. Kastro said it was because of fear, but that doesn't make any sense as a reason to create a doppelgänger."
If he wanted numbers, multiple puppets that could only perform the forms of the Tiger Bite Fist would be better. If he was afraid, armor or a weapon would provide far more security. The reason for conjuring just one copy of himself simply didn't add up.
"He learned Nen on his own, right? Maybe he just didn't think that far ahead," Killua suggested.
"No, it's the opposite of what Gon said during the match," Wing countered, his expertise silencing Killua's doubt. "It is precisely because he was self-taught that he needed an exceptionally strong conviction to realize such an ability."
"After being mentally broken in his match with Hisoka, Kastro must have needed something to help him recover. That something was the self he had trained until then, and the ideal self he would one day become."
The conclusion, drawn from Gon's words and Kastro's circumstances, was one that Wing, a long-time martial artist, found deeply convincing.
"All of you are still in your growth period, so it will be a long time from now, but if you ever hit a wall, remembering your own origins can be very effective. Of mind, technique, and body, the mind is especially crucial in Nen."
As each of them pondered their own origins, the door to the waiting room suddenly burst open, and a radiant Kastro stormed in.
"King! You are truly a vessel worthy of being the King of Martial Arts!! Thanks to your words, Kastro feels as though his world has opened up!"
Before anyone could react to the sudden intrusion, Kastro rushed to Gon's side—who was still sitting in seiza—and threw himself into a sliding prostration.
"Through our recent match, I have come to understand the depths of Nen anew! I beg of you, would you please instruct me in the ways of Nen! I have little to offer, but I humbly implore you!!"
After making his plea, Kastro remained motionless. Gon glanced at Wing, who nodded in confirmation, and then spoke.
"Kastro-s—"
"Please, just call me Kastro!"
"…Kastro, I'm still a student myself. I'm currently learning about Nen from Mr. Wing here."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kastro. My name is Wing, an assistant master of the Shingen-ryu school. By a twist of fate, I am instructing Gon and his friends."
"What! To be an assistant master of the famed Shingen-ryu at such a young age!"
In the end, they agreed that while Wing couldn't be a full-time teacher, he would guide Kastro in his Nen training, and Kastro would train with Gon, his friends, and Zushi through sparring. The financial details were settled without any issue.
"What a blessed training environment. I doubt I will be able to join you often, but when I do, I look forward to training with all of you, including the King."
For the time being, Kastro was instructed to focus on training in his Nen category. He declared that he would train alone to concentrate, then added that he had an announcement.
"Actually, I met with Hisoka before coming to see you, King. Since I'm uninjured as well, we've scheduled a match for ten days from now."
"Huh? You were just talking about how you were scared of him during the fight. Isn't that a bit sudden? Shouldn't you have taken more time to train?" Killua pointed out reasonably.
Kastro's face beamed with confidence.
"I am well aware that the probability of my victory is low. But without a rematch against Hisoka, there is no future for me. It's no problem! Through my match with the King, I have reclaimed myself! There is nothing left for me to fear!"
With a swirl of his cape and a loud laugh, Kastro left the room. Gon and the others watched him go, a sense of unease hanging in the air.
…It is said that a certain deviant, having witnessed Kastro emerge from Gon's waiting room, crushed a deck of cards in his hand, wondering what he would do to the man if he intended to start training with them.
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