Marcos's throat rolled, and he spat out two words with difficulty: "S-s-so... strong..."
Oboro exerted force with his fingers, and a large amount of blood immediately gushed out of his mouth.
The Nen users in the audience, seeing this scene, mostly had horrified and incredulous expressions.
This was in stark contrast to the ordinary people who were red-faced, constantly roaring, and watching with blood pumping.
Marcos had lost.
If they could still try to accept that Oboro could defeat Eshimizu, they hadn't expected him to win against Marcos.
Because since the mercenary Marcos had reached the 200th floor, he had shown tyrannical strength and skill, with no defeats and no points lost.
Marcos was an Enhancement-type Nen user, and in terms of pure attack and lethality, Eshimizu was far inferior.
Most importantly, they had also heard some information about Marcos. This man had previously been hired by an independent country with a very chaotic national situation, and had followed a royal family, constantly traveling on the battlefield.
This kind of person had been baptized by a large number of wars, and neither his mental will nor his combat qualities could be compared to ordinary fighters.
Because the environment they grew up in was different.
Compared to people like Marcos, other Nen users were more pure.
They were just here to compete, and that was all.
Oboro's left hand, all five fingers twisted and broken, was broken by the latter's punch when he and Marcos exchanged punches and palms...
At the same time, Oboro's body was also covered in blood, and he looked terrible. But in the end, it was him... who had reached the end through calculation and 'surprise'.
Blood covered Oboro's entire face, but his eyes were shining faintly and had a smile, staring at Marcos: "Although you can't speak, you can raise your hand to signal and concede to the referee."
Blood was still gurgling from the corners of Marcos's mouth.
Hearing his words, Marcos remained unmoved... Although he was about to die, his eyes were very calm and frank.
Losing was losing... As a soldier, he... would not surrender.
He faced every battle with the determination to die!
"Thank you."
Oboro understood his expression and said softly.
Then, he exerted force with his palm again, and with a snap, Marcos's neck was immediately snapped, and he stopped breathing.
Oboro didn't dare to let go, because as long as he released Marcos, as long as he wasn't dead, as long as he could still move, the other party would definitely counterattack... until the last second of the battle, and Oboro couldn't guarantee that he could still catch the other party's mistakes and still have this opportunity to suppress him.
Killing him was also out of respect for him.
Respect for a warrior.
Marcos became a corpse, and Oboro felt relieved, a sense of powerlessness made him collapse on the stage, his chest heaving violently... He was exhausted both physically and mentally.
"Winner, Oboro!"
After a while, the host announced the result.
Making the sound waves in the arena even louder, deafening.
Oboro looked at the spotlight above his head and listened to the cheers of the people... His heart actually gave birth to a sense of emptiness after extreme pleasure. In his mind, he subconsciously thought of the words that Moritonio, the leader of the circus, had said back then.
"Crap... It's okay to enjoy the battle... But don't become as morbid as Hisoka..."
Realizing the changes in his heart, Oboro smiled.
He enjoyed the battle... because he learned something from the strong.
Just like playing games, encountering high-level players and dueling, even if he lost... he wouldn't feel lost, and winning would naturally be even more fulfilling.
Rather than simply being a battle maniac.
Under the stage, Wing looked at Biscuit again, he was confused!
His vision had also improved now, and he could see a little bit of what was going on. In his mind, he replayed the process of Oboro and Marcos's battle...
The match ended quickly, in less than ten minutes, but the two of them were punching and kicking, and the fight was extremely bloody.
From his perspective, Oboro's physical fitness, including his aura, which he was proud of, had obvious gaps compared to Marcos.
This could be seen from the fact that after Oboro was approached by Marcos, a few simple fist and foot fights left injuries on Oboro's limbs... As an Enhancer, Marcos's attack was more efficient than Eshimizu's.
But Marcos lost... Both of them used Nen abilities, the only difference was that Oboro's ability was not the same as the last match, summoning those minions.
Seeing his disciple look at her, Biscuit wasn't as surprised as before... She had adapted to Oboro's performance.
"There are two points to his victory, first... is his brain."
Biscuit talked eloquently: "That little bastard knew before the match that he was completely incapable of competing in terms of pure hard power... So, he couldn't delay the time, because the longer the battle lasted, the more dangerous he would be..."
"He guessed that at the beginning of the match, Marcos would launch a storm-like attack on him... Because he knew where his current shortcomings and weaknesses were... Through the last match, the other party was very likely to not give him time to breathe and adapt... Maybe he had been simulating the process of the two fighting in his brain all these days... He would imagine himself as Marcos, so as to arrange countermeasures. In the first few minutes, he was almost completely consuming his Nen aura without leaving any backup, which also shows that he was indeed growing..."
"His city is very deep... That's also why I didn't let you fight him."
Biscuit recalled the scene when Oboro saw through her 'disguise as a girl' when they first met.
This kid was not an ordinary thief!
On the stage, Oboro had barely managed to stand up and was leaving, leaving bloody footprints with each step.
"Second, is his ability."
"His ability in the last match left an impression, but it was clear that... that was just one of the effects of his ability. He... still had something hidden! Marcos was misled..."
"His ability is very complicated... Relying solely on Nen power, facing an expert of the Enhancement type, even if he defended with all his strength, he couldn't do it... But he survived. When Marcos was attacking with all his strength, a golden barrier appeared around him, which offset a lot of damage. In addition, he also got some kind of enhancement and blessing, and at a key point, he used his ability to make Marcos instantly fall into a state similar to weakness... thereby taking the initiative."
"A battle is not only about Nen, physical strength, and skills, but also about the brain... The information gap between each other, what he has shown is also the point that I wanted you to understand by bringing you to the Heavens Arena... Keep an eye on him, you can learn a lot from him."
"There is no such thing as taking shortcuts in the battle between Nen users. Losing means that your skills are inferior to others."
After Biscuit finished instructing, she pinched her chin and fell into deep thought.
She was deeply investigating... Oboro's Nen ability...
...
At night, Oboro, with bandages all over his body, stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of his hotel room, looking at the neon night.
If Eshimizu's control of the battle rhythm had taught him a lesson.
Then Marcos was simply superior to him in terms of physical strength and aura.
This was also the first time since he came to the Heavens Arena that he had encountered a peer who was better than him in these two aspects. Of course, the old woman Biscuit didn't count.
What he drew with his Nen ability during the day was a rune skill. No matter which type he drew, he had a set of plans to deal with Marcos. Rune skills... allowed him, as a player, to set up talents and summoner spells in advance.
He had selected the Resolve tree for talents, with Grasp of the Undying, Bone Plating, etc., to strengthen his defense and tankiness... The summoner spells were Barrier and Exhaust.
And Marcos was unaware of his ability.
This was also his advantage.
"This world is really interesting... Putting aside those plot characters, there are strong people everywhere."
Oboro smiled slightly and looked at his left hand, which was covered in bandages, "But in that case, I'm afraid I won't be able to fight for a short time... The timid guys won't have the idea of fighting me again."
"The mandatory match within ninety days is too slow... Even if it's been ninety days, some people will probably just concede or forfeit when they meet me."
"So... I still have to lose."
"In the next matches... I'll just rely on Nen techniques to fight, and actively concede while ensuring my safety."
"Unless there is a real expert... who can play with me."
"As a test subject to improve my Nen techniques, they are still qualified..."
Oboro muttered to himself.
In the following days, he would go to the arena, but... as a spectator.
Watching from the sidelines, from a third-person perspective, was sometimes more conducive to understanding the battle situation, and he could also absorb or learn some 'knowledge'.
He could see how other people dealt with different Nen users.
"Hi."
One day, before the match started, Oboro found an empty seat and sat down.
Biscuit and Wing were next to him.
He enthusiastically greeted the old woman.
"Hello, my name is Wing."
Wing was as gentle and peaceful as ever, shaking hands with Oboro with a smile.
"I know you."
Oboro nodded slightly.
"Tch."
Biscuit, on the other hand, turned her head away, not wanting to pay attention to him when she saw him approaching.
"Master..."
Wing was a little embarrassed and quickly smoothed things over.
Oboro chuckled.
He was the one who hated others before, and it was the first time he had been hated by someone.
"I was still expecting you to come find me again sometime... Aren't you my fan?" After sitting down, Oboro looked at her, "Ah, no, should I say... girlfriend? Although your real age is relatively old, I don't mind..."
"Aaaaaah! You bastard! You really are a terrible guy!"
"How dare you say such shameless words to such a beautiful and lovely girl?!!!"
Hearing this, Biscuit turned back to face Oboro, looking furious, glaring at Oboro.
"Master..."
Wing felt the strange aura between the two and was a little at a loss.
"Hmm? Did I remember wrong? It seems that someone came to my room in the middle of the night, saying that they liked me very much... wanting to..."
Oboro said.
Seeing Biscuit clenching her fists angrily, and even showing signs of releasing Nen.
Oboro smiled: "Never mind, the match is about to start, let's watch the match first!"
After mocking the old woman, he casually changed the subject.
Making Biscuit, who was about to explode, swallow her anger.
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