The referee on the stage: "..."
His eyelids twitched.
And Nobunaga, in the audience, showed a look of deep approval.
He sincerely supported Feitan's point with both hands and feet.
First, he glanced at the tall, skinny, fighter-like dead dog on the ground, then at Feitan in front of him, who was short and looked like a child, but possessed strength beyond ordinary…
"Go to the 100th floor!"
The referee was silent for a moment, then immediately raised his hand and announced loudly.
Within three minutes, the referee would decide, based on each contestant's performance in battle, which floor they should be sent to.
Of course, the better the performance, the higher the floor.
In fact, generally speaking, there were unspoken rules in the referees' decisions.
For example, those who hadn't demonstrated Nen would only be sent to the 50th floor at most.
But if, during the battle, they revealed that they had mastered Nen, they would be sent directly to the 100th floor.
After all, floors below the 100th were already meaningless to such people; they were simply child's play.
Just now, in his anger, Feitan had unleashed his Nen without hesitation, enchaining his speed.
And there was no doubt that this referee also knew Nen.
After seeing Feitan's true strength, he never once stepped in to stop Feitan's cruel actions.
On the one hand, to stop someone venting revenge in such a way would obviously mean standing against a Nen user, someone who might even become a future floor master; there was no need to risk offending him.
On the other hand, the other party was simply mocking Feitan with his rude words, clearly touching upon Feitan's most sensitive spot.
If someone sought beating on their own, then as long as it stayed within the rules and posed no risk of death, the referee would tacitly allow it.
Everyone must pay the price for their actions.
And so, Feitan successfully ascended to the hundredth floor.
After reaching the hundredth floor, one would have a private room.
But if one lost a battle and fell below the hundredth floor, their private room would be taken away.
And after reaching the hundredth floor, every battle was likely a life-or-death battle.
A single moment of carelessness could result in death.
As for the legality of killing in the Heavens Arena, Uvogin and Phinks were actually quite supportive.
"Great, I'm next!"
After watching Feitan ascend, Uvogin's excited shout echoed from the waiting room.
Just now, his name had been called over the announcement.
"Me too."
Phinks stood up and stretched his shoulders.
His name had also been called almost at the same time, though unfortunately not in the same match as Uvogin.
"I was really looking forward to fighting you in the first match."
Phinks looked at Uvogin, with his signature smirk on his face. "I thought so too..."
Uvogin scoffed. "Then it seems I'll have to postpone the day I tear your head off."
"That should be my words!"
The two glared at each other, their murderous gazes colliding with aggression, neither willing to back down.
Back in Meteor City, ever since that sticky rice cake-snatching incident, they had already been enemies.
If it weren't for Luke's presence, tying them together, they would have been at loggerheads again.
Of course, it was mainly because they both knew their limits and what to do and what not to do.
But if the opportunity arose, they wouldn't mind taking advantage of it to settle their scores.
Well, it wasn't too late now. The Heavens Arena certainly provided them with a very good stage to perform on.
The two of them stared at each other, while their opponents, whose names were called on the announcement, grew restless.
"Hello..."
Phinks' opponent approached him and politely asked: "Are you Mr. Phinks?"
"The announcement has already been made twice, asking us to go on stage."
"Huh?!"
Hearing this, Phinks finally turned around.
He looked at the man who had reminded him. He wore round glasses, looked friendly, and dressed in a white shirt, giving him a scholarly appearance.
This must be his opponent, right?
He didn't look particularly impressive, and...
Phinks glanced at the corner of the man's shirt sticking out messily from his waist, which gave off an unkempt vibe.
Especially with his messy hair, he looked even more sloppy.
"You are my opponent in this match. Your name is... Uh, Wang something?"
"Hello, my name is Wing. I'm looking forward to your guidance, Mr. Phinks."
The unkempt young man named Wing also smiled politely.
"Only 152 Jenny..."
Back in the waiting room, Feitan opened the envelope he received and poured out the coins inside.
This was his winning prize, the basic amount for winning the first round.
In the Heavens Arena, every win earns a certain amount of money.
The higher you climb, the bigger the prize.
On the first floor, whether you win or lose, you receive a bonus of 152 Jenny.
Winning on the fiftieth floor earns you fifty thousand Jenny.
Winning on the hundredth floor or higher earns you a million Jenny.
This is a truly excellent incentive for cash-strapped martial artists who specialize in fighting.
And it's also incredibly compelling.
The more capable you were, the higher the floors you could climb, the bigger the prize money you could earn, and the more money you could rack up.
This is the perfect place to transform your skills and abilities into wealth!
Feitan wasn't interested in the prize money; he simply enjoyed the experience and fun of exploring the dungeons.
Especially during this time, you'll encounter a variety of opponents.
For example… There are Nen users in this place.
Feitan casually shoved the coins into the nearby vending machine.
Then he pulled out a can of juice and drank it while watching the big screen: "Uvogin and Phinks battle."
There's nothing much to say about Uvogin; his opponent looks just so-so.
Although he was covered in muscles, it was just for show. Uvogin had him pinned to the ground, and he was beaten to tears, and if the referee hadn't intervened in time, the guy would have been beaten to death by Uvogin.
"Hahahahaha! So that's it? Just a level of trash, so weak and worthless..."
The victorious Uvogin was in high spirits, laughing heartily.
"If the fighters who come here are only this good, I advise them to go home and drink milk as soon as possible!"
Uvogin savored the joy of victory while frantically drawing hatred: "Otherwise, they had better watch out for their next match, or their heads might just get smashed open by me! Hahahaha!"
Uvogin's sweeping insults couldn't have been more thorough.
At least a considerable number of the high-level fighters' expressions changed after hearing Uvogin's words.
Those looks were anything but friendly!
Many were already thinking about how to teach Uvogin a lesson.
However, many in the audience were very fond of this, loving Uvogin's uninhibited style.
This confident and arrogant display of his personality, coupled with his immense strength, quickly garnered him a significant number of fans.
Thanks to his actions, most of the attention from both competitors and the audience was drawn to him.
They subconsciously ignored the seemingly ordinary duel between two fighters on the other side of the arena.
One was a teenager wearing ordinary sportswear, without even an eyebrow.
The other looked about the same age, wearing glasses and smiling faintly.
It was only his messy hair and the exposed hem of his shirt around his waist that made him look a little unkempt.
In terms of appearance and body type, among the thousands of eccentric applicants, these two were relatively normal.
Normal often means mediocre, easily overlooked.
But for Luke, who was in the audience stand, this was more noteworthy than even Feitan's and Uvogin's matches earlier.
"Is that... Wing?"
Luke recognized the other party on the stage immediately.
It was clearly Wing in his younger days, messy hair, and that signature shirt that never tucked into his pants…
Such a classic look, no one else could have it.
"From his appearance, it seems he's just been out training, and has already learned Nen..."
With Luke's current eyesight, it was easy to see Wing's current state.
He had just learned the basics of Nen and was at the level of a beginner.
Now, coming to Heavens Arena, his purpose seemed mainly to train.
Just like in the future, when he would bring his disciple, Zushi, along with him. Training Nen while sharpening his combat skills at the same time.
"Thank you for your guidance, Mr. Phinks."
Wing politely bowed to Phinks, a tradition of courtesy later passed down to his apprentice, Zushi.
What a joyful scene, a loving master and filial apprentice, showcasing the courtesy of both master and apprentice.
As for whether Wing's behavior was inherited from his master, it's unlikely.
"Wing, you must do your best."
Next to Luke, a beautiful little girl with blond hair and blue eyes, resembling a delicate porcelain doll, sat.
She cupped her hands around her mouth and called sweetly in encouragement to Wing below.
Her doll-like appearance was so striking that those with a taste for such things would be hooked after a single glance.
Especially in that lovely red princess dress, paired with her charming voice, it was hard not to notice her.
"Biscuit..."
Luke also took note.
But his main concern was…
"So she was already disguising herself as a little girl at this point in time?"
Yes, some people might look like children outwardly, but their true age and physical strength far surpass that of their appearance.
Normally speaking, this little loli's true age should be around forty-two or forty-three.
The fact that she had already reached the point where she could appear this way meant…
"At this age, she had already honed her body to a remarkable degree, which is why she chose to disguise herself."
After all, for someone like her, a master in training and teaching, if she hadn't truly honed her body to a level she was satisfied with, enough to handle any trouble and danger, she would never have taken on such a weak and inconvenient appearance in front of others.
Although she deeply loathed her true appearance, when compared to her own safety, her own life was undoubtedly more important.
So, with her clear mind and rationality, she adopted this appearance. That meant her strength had already achieved pretty good results.
"And she should have gained some insights in teaching too, otherwise she wouldn't have started taking disciples..."
Luke looked thoughtful.
The little princess beside him seemed to sense Luke's gaze.
She turned her face, saw Luke…
"Ah!"
She let out a coquettish little cry, then immediately pretended to guard herself by crossing her hands in front of her chest.
She shifted away from Luke, intending to distance herself from him.
Then, she looked at him with a pitiful, fearful, and wary gaze.
That tearful, watery look was truly heartbreaking.
And Luke, knowing her all too well: "..."
Well, what can he say? She's really a Transmuter type.
With such acting skills, if Luke hadn't already known what kind of person she was, he would have been fooled by her performance.
Still, since the other party wanted to keep up the act, he might as well play along.
"Sorry, miss, I think you may have misunderstood something..."
Luke said half-heartedly, half-sincerely: "I'm not interested in women under eighteen or over forty."
That tiny body of the seasoned veteran stiffened for a moment.
Under eighteen, well, the physical condition she displayed now did indeed suggest she was only thirteen.
But over forty...
Biscuit had a feeling that the brat across from her was deliberately hinting at something.
Because, according to normal logic, if he truly believed she was just a thirteen-year-old girl, there'd be no need at all to mention the part about being over forty.
This came from the experience of an old… a veteran hunter!
Plus a little bit of womanly intuition!
In an instant, those eyes that had seemed like gentle spring water, feigning pity and cuteness, now shifted into suspicion as she looked at Luke.
He knew her age might actually be over forty.
Which also meant he already knew something about her true situation?!
Luke: "..."