To openly acknowledge others' strength while calmly facing one's own weaknesses.
This was likely Wing's greatest virtue.
Biscuit shook her head slightly, deciding not to press Wing further.
Some things were best left in moderation.
What she had said earlier was enough, not enough to crush Wing's spirit, but sufficient to fuel his determination to catch up.
Goals were precisely that important.
They were also one of the key reasons Morrow had managed to defeat Wing.
Biscuit could tell that behind Morrow's astonishing rate of improvement lay an incredibly strong sense of purpose.
On the path of training, only by seeing the road clearly could one run faster.
Similar experiences, Biscuit had gone through them, and so had Chairman Netero…
"Go back and review the match. And while you're at it, let's do some special training."
Biscuit took a few steps forward, adjusting Wing's untucked shirt.
It was one of the few gestures of comfort she could offer.
Wing nodded firmly.
This match had made him acutely aware of his shortcomings, igniting an urge within him to push forward.
For now, he could only watch Morrow's back.
But he would catch up.
He had to believe that, because that was the first step toward success.
Biscuit and Wing walked one after the other through the corridor.
Gazing at Biscuit's petite figure, Wing recalled her earlier words.
"Master... what exactly is your relationship with Morrow?"
"What kind of answer are you hoping for?"
Biscuit replied without turning around.
Wing was momentarily stunned.
—--
"Master, what exactly is your relationship with that woman?"
No sooner had Morrow finished applying for his Floor Master challenge than Calista pestered him about his connection with Biscuit.
Menchi didn't join in the questioning, but she lingered close to Calista, as if eager to satisfy her own curiosity by proxy.
Kastro wasn't as persistent, though his frequent glances betrayed his interest in Morrow and Biscuit's relationship.
"I told you, we just happened to cross paths. We're not that close."
Morrow sighed in exasperation.
At most, his relationship with Biscuit was a passing acquaintance.
And this was already the third time he'd answered the same question.
Yet Calista and Menchi refused to believe him.
It couldn't be helped.
Given Biscuit's shameless antics, it was hard to believe they were mere strangers.
If anything, the blame lay with Biscuit for being so utterly unreliable.
Noticing Morrow's growing impatience, Calista and Menchi wisely dropped the subject.
Finally, Morrow had some peace.
Back in his room, he sank into the sofa, closing his eyes as he reviewed the earlier battle.
A contest in the arena and a life-or-death struggle were fundamentally different.
But the former still offered valuable experience.
Against Wing, the most striking impression had been his seemingly flawless Nen techniques.
Though Morrow had mentally prepared himself beforehand, only in actual combat did he realize… Those meticulously honed Nen techniques, combined with Wing's considerable aura potential, were far more troublesome than expected.
Frankly speaking, unless Wing made a mistake, finding an opening in his defenses was nearly impossible.
The key to Morrow's victory lay in… Wing's combat experience was inferior to his.
Another point was that his physical strength had improved.
This was the most crucial factor.
Otherwise, even if he found an opening to break through, he might lack the strength to seize the opportunity.
Can't rush things.
Morrow slowly opened his eyes.
Although he had already experienced firsthand the value of advanced Nen techniques in intense battles, his current focus remained on tempering his body.
Only by distinguishing priorities could one work efficiently.
Morrow had always been this way.
That evening, staff from Heavens Arena personally visited Morrow to deliver his match notification.
December 7th, 2:00 PM.
If Morrow succeeded in his challenge, he would replace the current Floor Master and participate in the Battle Olympia opening ceremony the next day, December 8th.
—--
Meanwhile.
The Floor Master Morrow had selected also received the match notification from Heavens Arena staff.
"Damn it, just a few days left, and he had to pick me."
Upon learning this, the monkey-like Floor Master couldn't help but curse loudly.
It wasn't that he feared Morrow's sudden rise, but with Battle Olympia approaching, he didn't want to deal with unexpected variables and risks.
However, Floor Masters couldn't refuse challenges from climbers. Being chosen at such a critical moment, he could only blame his bad luck.
But ultimately, who would suffer misfortune would be determined by strength.
"Meditator Morrow, huh? I'll make you regret your decision today."
The Floor Master named Merry's expression turned icy.
In reality, Morrow's selection of Merry wasn't a deliberate choice.
Because Morrow didn't even know Merry.
He had simply randomly picked a number from the 230th floor upwards.
And thus landed on Merry, who resided on the 244th floor.
It was a matter of luck.
To say Merry was unlucky, he certainly was.
But as the saying goes, who ultimately suffers misfortune is determined by strength.
Once Morrow and Merry's match was confirmed, every Floor Master awaiting Battle Olympia, as well as all fighters on the 200th floor, turned their attention to this event.
All because Morrow's chain wins was far too dazzling.
Most fighters might only see his undefeated record, but a small portion, like the Floor Masters, noticed Morrow's profound strength.
The real confirmation came from Morrow's match against Wing earlier that day.
"He picked Merry, huh? Haha..."
Some Floor Masters gloated.
"If even Merry falls easily, that would prove something."
Some Floor Masters vaguely sensed Morrow was holding back.
"Can't just look upwards."
Some Floor Masters prepared in advance, wary of the threat Morrow posed from below.
For Floor Masters between the 230th and 250th floors, the biggest obstacle in Battle Olympia was naturally last year's champion.
No. To be precise, the two-time defending champion.
Originally, they had all been focused on that figure at the very top.
But Morrow, who had surged forward like a dark horse, inevitably drew the attention of most among them.
"This year... will be intense!"
Some Floor Masters sat quietly in their rooms for hours, their clasped hands trembling visibly.
Whether from excitement or nervousness remained unclear. Regarding the match between Morrow and Merry, the event organizers at Heavens Arena had learned their lesson.
Unlike the hastily arranged match against Wing, this time the organizers deliberately set aside several days for promotion and buildup.
A dark horse with ten consecutive victories was about to challenge for the crucial position of Floor Master.
A victory here could potentially stir waves ahead of the upcoming Battle Olympia.
The topic was simply too compelling.
The Heavens Arena marketing team poured resources into promoting the event like mad.
This wasn't just about hyping up a qualifier for the Battle Olympia; it was also about drumming up excitement for the tournament itself.
So when orders came from above, the staff below worked with frenzied enthusiasm.
Thanks to Heavens Arena's aggressive promotion, more and more eyes beyond the city began turning their attention to the Battle Olympia ahead of time.
—--
Among the countless spectators, there was one inconspicuous blond young man, Kurapika.
He, too, had come to Heavens Arena.
After leaving Yorknew in September, having gained a profound understanding of what "monsters" truly were, he had long considered coming to this sacred battleground to grow stronger.
However, for the past few months, he had been desperately searching for an opportunity to reclaim the eyes of his clansmen that had been auctioned off at the Yorknew Auction.
But as time passed…
Too much wasted effort had gradually taught him one truth.
Without strength, nothing could be accomplished.
And so, with great difficulty, he made the decision to "abandon his pursuit halfway" and set foot in the city where Heavens Arena stood for the first time.
But the final straw that pushed him to this decision was actually seeing Morrow's figure in a newspaper report, one that Heavens Arena had paid handsomely to publish.
Standing on the bustling streets, Kurapika lifted his gaze toward the towering spire-like structure.
For those who sought power, Heavens Arena was akin to a pyramid; the higher one climbed, the stronger they became.
This step is crucial. It will determine how high I can climb, how far I can go… or…
Slowly, Kurapika withdrew his gaze from Heavens Arena and turned toward the registration office.
Once he stepped onto this path, even if he was battered and bruised, he would never waver.
This was the only way through the thorns.
Whether he would fall among them or push past, his body covered in wounds, to grasp the seemingly unreachable opportunity…
Kurapika's only thought was to fix his eyes on the goal and give it everything he had.
In a way, Kurapika and Morrow were very much alike…
After waiting in line at the registration office for over two hours, Kurapika finally completed his enrollment and entered the first-floor arena.
There, he saw sixteen matches taking place simultaneously across the various platforms.
These were pure, unadulterated brawls; every punch, every kick thrown with the intent to knock the opponent down with overwhelming force.
Violence. Savagery.
Such an atmosphere permeated every inch of the space.
Kurapika felt a chill run down his spine, his hands clenching unconsciously, yet his gaze remained fixed on the fierce battles below.
He had already resolved to become one of those savages.
As his name was called, Kurapika stepped onto the platform without hesitation. His opponent was a muscular man with brute strength but no idea how to utilize it effectively.
Kurapika won the fight, though at the cost of a graze from a fist across his cheek. It didn't damage his jawbone or teeth, but the swelling was unavoidable.
"Contestant 3125, proceed to the 20th floor."
The referee didn't hesitate to issue Kurapika a pass granting him access to the 20th floor.
He could tell Kurapika had solid fundamentals but had encountered a relatively tough opponent.
However, his evaluation was based on the process and injuries sustained.
Kurapika's victory wasn't effortless, nor was it overly difficult, but he had taken damage.
That was the core reason the referee assigned him to the 20th floor.
"Thank you!"
Kurapika accepted the pass, his eyes gleaming with a bright light.
Instead of immediately "reaching" for the world he had set his sights on, he had first come here to register for the competition.
His goal was to obtain this pass, a credential that would give him the courage to stand before that person.
The referee noticed the light in Kurapika's eyes.
Too low.
The referee thought silently to himself.
Unaware of the referee's thoughts, Kurapika left with the pass, first registering on the 20th floor before heading to the lobby on the first level.
The spacious lobby was lined with orderly rows of massive support pillars.
On the square surfaces of these pillars, various posters were displayed.
At a glance, one poster stood out the most.
Kurapika approached one of the pillars and tilted his head slightly to examine the poster above.
The left half featured a photo of Morrow with downcast eyes, as if deep in thought about something.
The right half, divided by a jagged lightning-like crack, depicted another man, lean as a monkey, with a fierce and ruthless expression.
Meditator Morrow…
Kurapika's attention was solely on the name on the left.
He had read about Morrow in the newspapers and knew the match was scheduled for today.
But the event was so highly anticipated that, given his means, he couldn't possibly secure a ticket.
Letting out a soft sigh, Kurapika shifted his gaze to the television screens mounted throughout the lobby.
Spectators who wanted to watch the match live but couldn't obtain tickets usually gathered in the first-floor lobby to watch the live broadcast.
Kurapika took one last look at the poster on the pillar before silently making his way to a public bench against the wall. Sitting down, he pulled a cold bun from his satchel, today's lunch.
As he ate, his eyes remained fixed on the poster in the distance.
His demeanor didn't go unnoticed by an observant onlooker.
"Young man, who are you more interested in?"
A calm voice suddenly spoke up. Kurapika started slightly, immediately turning a wary gaze toward the speaker.
It was a bespectacled young man with a gentle and scholarly appearance.
Kurapika's eyes flicked to the man's waist, where a bit of untucked shirt was visible.
This made Kurapika frown slightly, stirring an urge to tuck it in properly.
The young man was Wing.
Meeting Wing's expectant gaze, Kurapika replied calmly, "Morrow." Had Morrow been present, he would have undoubtedly noticed the change in Kurapika. No longer as sensitive and fragile, he had broken through the dark cage of his mental state, experiencing his first true growth, and gradually developed traits of calmness and composure.
"Can you tell me the reason?"
Wing asked gently in follow-up.
Kurapika sensed no malice and hesitated for a moment before answering, "Morrow helped me."
"I see."
Wing smiled and took out two tickets.
Originally, one had been prepared for his master, but, "No time. I need to read the latest issue of Prince Charming magazine. Rumor has it this one's really risqué, hehe (*﹃*)"
That was Biscuit's exact reply.
Wing looked at Kurapika and said softly, "I happen to have an extra ticket. If you don't mind, I can give…"
"I can pay for it."
Wing paused briefly, then chuckled. "That works too."
He sold Kurapika a ticket at the original price.
And Kurapika happily entered after having his ticket checked.
Then,
Morrow once again deepened his understanding of the term "monster."
Two rounds.
Just two rounds, and that fierce-looking Floor Master named Merry was cleanly KO'd by Morrow.
Amid the roaring cheers that seemed ready to lift the ceiling, Kurapika strained his eyes, staring at the distant figure gradually disappearing into the passageway.
So strong…
--------
Bonus chapter for the new review.