Sixteen arenas were hosting simultaneous matches.
Some battles were fiercely contested, while others ended in an instant.
Morrow focused intently on one particular arena.
The two combatants appeared to be martial artists skilled in distinct styles, their strikes and counters revealing clear offensive and defensive strategies.
After observing for a while, Morrow discerned that one specialized in kicks while the other excelled in punches.
But after over a dozen exchanges, the kicker gradually gained the upper hand.
Impressive.
Initially intrigued, Morrow soon felt a surge of excitement after watching the exchanges.
The two fighters moved with ferocious momentum, each strike carrying an unyielding determination, as if the next move could be fatal.
Moreover, their techniques displayed pinpoint accuracy, striking precisely at vulnerabilities.
Such skill wasn't achieved overnight; it demanded relentless training.
If these two also knew Nen…
What kind of spectacle would this match have been?
As Morrow pondered this possibility, the tide of battle suddenly shifted.
The kicker, who had been dominating, was caught off guard when the puncher fought back ruthlessly, enduring a whip-like kick to close the distance and deliver a devastating punch straight to the heart.
That single punch turned the tables, sending the opponent crashing to the ground.
Witnessing this, Morrow's pupils contracted slightly.
He noticed the aura above the fallen fighter's head dissipating.
At the same time, the referee recognized the severity of the situation, checked the fallen contestant's breathing, and immediately called for the emergency medical team stationed at the sidelines.
The victor merely glanced at his fallen opponent before coldly looking away, indifferent.
This was the brutal reality beneath the cheers and applause.
Every fighter who stepped onto Heavens Arena's stage had to be mentally prepared for the possibility of death.
In that regard, it was somewhat similar to the Hunter Exam.
The Hunter Association, which administered the exam, maintained a detached attitude toward examinees dying during the tests.
And those who signed up for the Hunter Exam were well aware of the dangers ahead.
The same applied to Heavens Arena.
Contestants not only had to steel their resolve but also sign waivers absolving the arena of responsibility for fatalities.
The battles here were far from mere exhibition matches.
If one encountered a vicious opponent, they could only blame their own misfortune.
However, fatalities during the preliminary rounds were still rare.
From the preliminaries up to the 200th floor, weapons were prohibited in the arena.
Moreover, preliminary matches had a strict three-minute time limit.
If neither fighter secured victory within that time, the referee would decide the winner based on performance.
Thus, in most cases, fighters focused on countering each other's moves rather than fighting to the death.
It was unusual for two contestants specializing in lethal martial arts to be matched against each other in the preliminaries.
And rarer still for their skills to be so evenly matched that, in their desperation to win, one seized a fleeting opportunity with ruthless decisiveness, guided by battle-hardened instincts.
Perhaps the puncher had anticipated the fatal outcome when he struck, but hesitation was never an option.
This was the way of pure martial artists. Not just in a fighting paradise like Heavens Arena, but even in any ordinary encounter elsewhere...
Once a formal challenge is issued by a martial artist, most battles are fought to determine not only superiority but also life and death.
I can easily defeat him.
Morrow's gaze followed the victor who had already left the arena.
But if he awakens Nen...
Watching the man disappear into the corridor, Morrow sighed deeply.
I can't win.
After a brief silence, Morrow leaned back in his chair, his brow slightly furrowed.
Martial arts:
Whether before encountering Nen or after mastering it, he had never truly engaged with it.
Yet there was no doubt that martial arts were an essential component in Nen battles.
However, someone with no martial arts training could, upon awakening Nen, effortlessly face a martial artist who had dedicated years to honing their combat skills.
If forced to prioritize...
Which was more important: Nen or martial arts?
Morrow thought of Killua and Zushi's battle in the original story.
At that time, Killua didn't understand Nen but could dominate purely through footwork and martial arts. But if Zushi had developed a Nen ability, the outcome might have been different.
Then Morrow thought of Biscuit.
This first-class Nen user, who had devoted decades to the Shingen-ryu Style, didn't need combat-oriented Nen abilities; her sheer skill alone made her a formidable fighter.
So what was the answer?
Morrow felt momentarily lost.
Then, inexplicably, he recalled Feitan's elusive speed-based attacks.
Compared to the Pain Packer Nen ability, Morrow found Feitan's rapid assault far more troublesome.
Could Nen mastery alone really counter such a swift fighting style?
A headache.
Morrow rubbed his temples.
If not for the Phantom Troupe, he wouldn't have to delve into these matters or feel the relentless pressure of time.
The future he had envisioned:
Basic Nen for self-preservation, supplemented by a steady income from the antique trade, ensuring he'd never want for money.
Wealth and security... what a perfect future that would have been.
But the Phantom Troupe had shattered it all.
—--
"Contestants 2688 and 2792, please proceed to Arena C. Contestants 2688 and 2792, please proceed to Arena C..."
The arena's announcement snapped Morrow out of his thoughts.
2792, his number.
Morrow steadied himself and walked toward the arena.
Upon reaching Arena C, he saw Contestant 2688, a long-haired woman in a tight-fitting outfit.
She noticed Morrow and frowned slightly, seemingly surprised by his youth.
"Both contestants, please step onto the arena."
The referee signaled for them to ascend.
Morrow and the long-haired woman stepped onto the platform.
"First-floor matches emphasize combat performance. Please demonstrate your abilities within three minutes."
The referee reiterated the rules.
"Begin!"
With that, the match started.
The long-haired woman moved instantly, her light steps carrying her swiftly behind Morrow.
Sorry, kid...
She raised her hand to strike Morrow's neck.
The scene was watched by several contestants in the stands. They were all people who had been paying attention to Morrow earlier. Now, seeing that Morrow showed no reaction whatsoever to the long-haired woman's attack, their responses varied in an instant.
Thud.
A dull sound echoed from Arena C.
This was followed by the long-haired woman gasping sharply as she withdrew her hand, her face twisted in pain.
What was happening?!
Those who witnessed this scene were astonished. Then they saw the young man, who appeared to be no more than sixteen years old, not only remain completely unfazed but even wear an expression of...
Deep contemplation?