Chapter 47: The Mysterious Disappearance of a Fighter
The first day of investigation yielded no results.
To avoid alerting the target, Mord conducted his inquiries with extreme caution and discretion.
Thus, he was already mentally prepared for this outcome. Not everything could go as smoothly as the incident with the evil monk Mierji.
Over the next two days, while continuing his covert investigation, Mord returned to Heavens Arena as usual to resume his tower-climbing journey.
"Knockout! He's down! He can't get up—!"
"Mr. Mord secures another victory with a single strike!!!"
The ring announcer shouted with fervent excitement.
"Mord, the Finger of God."
"How high will his rapid ascent take him? And who can possibly stop him?"
Led by an attendant, Mord arrived at his room.
Fighters who reach the 100th floor of Heavens Arena are granted their own private rooms, and the arena also provides three meals a day.
In other words, if one could maintain their position steadily, it would mean a worry-free life.
However, once demoted below the 100th floor, one must leave immediately.
This is precisely why the 100th floor is referred to as the watershed of Heavens Arena.
Advancing from the 90th floor to the 100th floor and maintaining a position above the 100th floor are two entirely different matters. Once past the 100th floor, the benefits skyrocket, so everyone fights desperately to protect their rank.
Many would go to any lengths to ensure they don't lose their standing.
The longer they stayed at this level, the more skilled they became at defending their position.
When Mord arrived at the waiting area, he noticed everyone staring at him. Their gazes were like those of territorial beasts guarding their food, sizing up an uninvited intruder.
What these people didn't know was that what they treasured so dearly was nothing more than rotting flesh in Mord's eyes. A phoenix soaring through the heavens would never concern itself with the petty schemes of vultures scavenging on the ground.
In Mord's view, these individuals, who obsessed over nothing but maintaining their rank, were even inferior to the fighters on the 50th or 60th floors.
The moment a martial artist loses their courage and ambition to advance, it signifies the death of their warrior spirit.
Within a few days, Mord fought his way up to the 190th floor.
From start to finish, he used the same move.
The reputation of the "Finger of God" began to spread.
Most importantly, he finally uncovered some clues about Pierre Izzie, the Murderous Miracle Doctor.
190th floor, waiting area.
A casual conversation among a few fighters caught Mord's attention.
"Have you all heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Several fighters who passed the 190th floor and advanced to the 200th floor have mysteriously disappeared over the past few months."
"Isn't it normal for people to leave after losing?"
"Everyone thought so at first, but just the other day, the body of one of the missing was suddenly found in a trash bin on the nearby Black Street."
"I heard about that too. Rumor has it that all the organs inside the corpse were removed. The manner of death was as gruesome as it gets," another burly man chimed in.
"As for me, I plan to stay hovering around the 180th or 190th floor. There's no prize money for matches above the 200th floor. Only a fool would risk their life for so-called honor."
...
Although Heavens Arena's 200th floor has what is known as the "rookie trial," where many newcomers who rashly advance often falter—some suffering severe injuries or disabilities, others dying on the spot—such frequent disappearances had never occurred before.
Combined with the sudden appearance of the corpse, Mord couldn't help but suspect a connection to Pierre Izzie, the Murderous Miracle Doctor.
He would have to go to the 200th floor himself to investigate.
With that thought in mind, Mord extended a single index finger and tapped the forehead of a sumo wrestler standing before him.
"Winner: Mord!"
"Another brilliant one-hit KO victory for Fighter Mord! He successfully advances to the 200th floor!"
As the commentator's excited voice echoed through the arena, Mord was already riding the elevator to the 200th floor.
If the 100th floor was the watershed of Heavens Arena, then beyond the 200th floor was an entirely different world.
The moment the elevator doors opened, an opulent and luxurious decor greeted him, resembling a palace.
First, he needed to find the reception desk. Mord glanced up at the directional signs and followed the instructions to a straight corridor.
Mord could clearly sense several malicious Auras emanating from the other end of the corridor.
A newcomer's Initiation, huh.
Mord smiled, striding forward without hesitation to meet this hostility head-on.
"Mr. Mord? Welcome to the 200th floor," the receptionist greeted him with a radiant smile. "The reception desk is right here. Please sign in and register."
As Mord reached for the form, the receptionist continued her explanation: "By the way, there are currently 168 registered fighters on the 200th floor. Starting from this level, you may use any weapons you've brought with you—feel free to utilize them during matches."
"In principle, there are no monetary rewards for fights beyond this floor—only battles for honor. Please acknowledge this before participating."
"Would you like to enter a match immediately?"
Mord glanced at the form in his hand, which clearly outlined the combat rules for the 200th floor.
This level operated on an application-based fight system, where each fighter had a 90-day preparation period. Within this timeframe, they could freely choose when to compete.
Of course, one could participate in matches daily, but it was equally permissible to abstain from fighting until the deadline approached.
After completing one match, another 90-day preparation period would be granted. However, failing to fight before the deadline would result in immediate disqualification and expulsion.
As for promotion conditions, a fighter needed ten victories on the 200th floor. But if they suffered four defeats before achieving ten wins, they would also be disqualified.
Upon meeting the promotion criteria, one would earn the right to challenge a Floor Master.
Heavens Arena had twenty-one Floor Masters in total, occupying floors 230 to 250—one per floor.
Succeeding in a challenge meant taking their place.
"Come out, you sneaky rats hiding in the shadows," Mord suddenly called out toward a deserted corner in the distance.
From the moment he stepped onto the 200th floor, Mord had sensed he was being watched.
Such undisguised presence was impossible to miss.
Three bizarrely dressed figures emerged from the end of the corridor, eyeing Mord with ill intent.
"Rats? That's quite the unpleasant way to put it," sneered one clad entirely in a red cloak, supported by metallic prosthetic legs—resembling some grotesque insectoid creature.
So it's these guys.
A faint smile tugged at Mord's lips as he retorted, "My mistake. Even rats have all their limbs intact—you're not even on their level."
His words struck a nerve.
A young man in a wheelchair bristled, about to erupt, when a voice interrupted.
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