Unfortunately, even Ryker could only maintain control over three Thunder Nen Beasts simultaneously.
Their effective range topped out at 10 kilometers—beyond that, the Nen constructs would destabilize and collapse.
He could share their senses in real time and even swap his consciousness between them at will.
This was a genuine Red-tier ability.
In practical terms, Ryker now possessed multiple bodies and extra lives. As any proper isekai protagonist would, he played it completely cool.
After tweaking the Zoldycks' [Emitted Ball] technique, he could even morph it into something resembling an Espada's Cero.
All he needed now was to farm traits using his clones.
Registration Desk
"Uh… your name, please…?"
The receptionist swallowed hard, staring at the short blue-haired man wearing a jagged white jawbone mask. A feral, predatory aura rolled off him in waves.
"Oh. Thunder Nen Beast: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."
Panther King Ryker flashed a toothy, predatory grin, sweeping his gaze across the hall like a challenge.
"That guy…"
"Those eyes are insane…"
"Hiss—he looks dangerous!"
Contestants nearby instinctively edged back.
Ryker—now fully inhabiting Grimmjow's form—felt exhilarated.
Roleplay made everything more entertaining.
It wasn't Ryker killing you. It was the unhinged psycho Grimmjow.
"Tch. Hehe~~~ Want to fight? Step up anytime. Just make sure you bring your life with you."
Panther King Ryker threw his head back and laughed maniacally.
He secretly hoped someone would take the bait—provocation made kills feel less premeditated.
Sadly, no one bit. Or rather, only low-tier fodder lingered nearby.
Regrettable.
Still—good enough. Grimmjow secured his second entry ticket.
With this Nen Beast ability, he could eventually build a private army.
Core members: Nen Beasts. Outer circle: recruited experts.
Once he reached the absolute peak, the entire Hunter × Hunter world would become his personal livestock farm.
Of course, as a "moral" transmigrator, he'd keep things orderly.
A gentleman loves money, but he earns it properly.
Another registration desk.
A ten-meter radius around it had cleared out. Everyone stared in terrified fascination at the eerily still figure standing there.
Ulquiorra Cifer.
Classic form: pristine white Espada uniform, hands casually in pockets, long sword sheathed at his hip.
Completely expressionless.
The green tear tracks running down his face screamed "not normal."
Especially the gaping hole clean through his neck.
"Holy shit! There's a hole in his neck! How is he even alive?!"
"Even a magical beast would drop dead from that…"
"Monster! Stay back!"
"He looks like the blue-haired freak. Both have those bone masks."
The whispers spread like wildfire.
In the Hunter world, weirdos who survived long enough were usually monsters. The weak weirdos died young.
"S-Sir… please write your name!!"
The receptionist's hand shook as he slid the form forward.
Ulquiorra Ryker wrote one word: Ulquiorra.
He stepped into the Floor 1 queue without another glance.
Yet another window.
Yellow jumpsuit. Red gloves and boots. Red cape fluttering behind him. Shiny, perfectly bald head.
Egghead aesthetic. Minimalist art style.
"No way… this guy's fighting? He's built like a twig. No muscle at all."
"If I get matched against him, jackpot!"
Low-floor hopefuls licked their lips. Easy prey meant free wins.
"Sir, your name…?"
"Oh, I'm Saitama. Hey—is there a supermarket sale this Saturday?"
Baldy Ryker scratched his head, looking utterly vacant.
So much fun.
Roleplaying Saitama in another world and getting openly mocked? Priceless.
He could swap consciousness in at any moment or leave the Nen Beast on autopilot.
Autopilot mode was dumb—it ran on basic Nen loops—but it let him test multi-tasking limits.
The sheer joy of puppet mastery.
Arena Floor 1
"Contestant 10086, prepare for battle!!"
The referee's voice echoed.
Ryker's main body stood in Zone Q.
His opponent: a towering, scar-covered muscular giant.
Name: Yamashina
Traits: [Robust] (Blue), [Great Strength] (Blue), [CQC] (Green), [Violent] (Green)…
Not bad for Floor 1.
"Wow! It's Yamashina! He once reached Floor 110 before dropping!"
"That kid's screwed."
"Another smurf. Disgusting."
"Pros coming down to fry fish. Poor newbie's gonna get PTSD."
The crowd recognized the giant immediately.
"Hehe. Heard that, kid? I'm in a generous mood today. Kowtow three times and I'll let you walk. I'm a Floor 100 veteran!"
Yamashina sneered down at him.
"Sigh… If you kowtow three times, I might even hit you lightly."
Ryker exhaled, already bored.
Why do I always get the brain-dead trash-talkers?
"Can we just start, Ref?" Ryker asked, impatient.
Yamashina's face flushed crimson. He looked ready to explode.
"O-Of course… be careful…"
The referee's voice cracked.
"DIE, KID!!"
Yamashina charged like a tank, massive fist rocketing toward Ryker's skull.
Some spectators winced and looked away.
BAM!
The giant fist halted inches from Ryker's face.
Caught effortlessly in one small hand.
Yamashina stood nearly three meters tall. Ryker was 1.7 meters.
The giant's arm was thicker than Ryker's leg.
Yet Ryker held it still without strain.
"Weak… utterly mediocre."
Ryker commented flatly.
"Damn it! AH—"
Yamashina tried to power through.
Ryker pushed—lightly.
BOOM!
The mountain of muscle flew backward, crashing into the concrete wall.
The wall buckled and collapsed inward, embedding Yamashina. He was out cold.
[DING! You defeated Yamashina. Rolling (10%)…]
[Copy Failed.]
Trash.
Ryker rubbed his temple.
"That kid?! Monster! How?!"
"Hiss—Yamashina got one-shotted. That guy's a hidden master."
"He cratered the wall. At least Floor 150 level."
The audience sat stunned. A Challenger had dropped into Bronze.
Ryker ignored them. He was multitasking.
Nen Beast · Transfer!
Consciousness shifted.
Grimmjow!
One claw swipe. Opponent down.
[Copy Failed!]
Damn.
Saitama!
Remote control.
ONE PUNCH.
Opponent launched like a ragdoll.
No system ping.
As expected—autopilot kills don't trigger loot.
I have to personally inhabit the body to farm.
Ulquiorra!
Sword drawn in one fluid motion.
His opponent—a convicted murderer—lunged with a poisoned blade.
In Heaven's Arena, killing was explicitly allowed.
Slash.
Heart pierced clean through.
[DING! You killed contestant Zedu.]
[Copy Successful! Acquired: [Dagger Mastery] (Blue), [Poisoning] (Green), [Violent] (Green)!]
[Crushed [Violent] (Green).]
Heavenly chime.
The crowd murmured briefly at the kill, then moved on. Death was routine here.
Killua watched from the stands, eyes narrowing.
"Dangerous… that guy killed without blinking."
His pupils contracted. He'd reached Floor 200 at age six—he knew the arena's dangers.
But that sword-wielder felt… wrong. Alien.
Gon and Killua also won their matches in a single move each.
The spectators were speechless.
"Sir… based on your performance, we've decided to fast-track you straight to the 50th Floor. Any objections?"
A sweating staff member rushed over.
Killua, Ryker, and Gon were blatantly smurfing. No reason to waste time on Floor 1.
Canary followed quietly as their attendant.
50th Floor
Ding. Elevator doors slid open.
"Hello! I'm Zushi! It's an honor to meet you! I watched your fights—amazing!"
A short-haired boy in a crisp gi bowed enthusiastically.
Ryker turned.
His eyes lit up.
Zushi!
But what truly set his pulse racing were the traits.
Name: Zushi
Traits: [Super Perseverance] (Double Gold), [Manipulation Talent] (Double Purple), [Shingen-Ryu Kung Fu] (Blue), [Persistence] (Blue), [Lucky Child] (Purple)…
JACKPOT!
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