"There it is, Killua's unique cat-like observation walk!"
In the arena, Killua circled his opponent, observing him, not making a rash move.
His family's philosophy typically dictated that he begin a fight with observation, determining if the enemy was someone he could handle, ideally achieving a one-hit kill.
"Ancient City is charging! He's initiated the attack first, so will he score with this blow?!"
The young man on the other side had already charged forward, his steps light and swift, moving at extreme speed.
A whip kick.
"I won't underestimate you because of your age. As long as it's an opponent, I'll go all out! Even if you've already lost twice in the 100th floor battles."
O. Ancient City said sternly, his youthful face filled with seriousness.
He had watched the recordings; Killua's previous two losses almost always ended with his own surrender.
And his enemies had all been injured by him, while he himself had not sustained much damage.
"Tch, I'll definitely win this time."
Killua squatted to dodge the whip kick, pressing his right hand together, his protruding nails becoming sharp, like a keen razor.
His speed was even faster than his opponent's; in the blink of an eye, his attack was about to reach Ancient City's neck.
Ancient City's eyes widened, his hair standing on end; he only felt the threat of death.
Following the momentum of his whip kick, his entire body twisted and flipped.
After one strike, their positions swapped.
Ancient City looked at his opponent sternly, reaching up to touch his neck, blood staining his hand.
The referee raised the flag.
"Valid hit! Killua scores the first point!"
Victories in the Sky Arena are determined by a point system.
Valid hit: 1 point
Fatal hit: 2 points
Victory conditions are 10 points or a direct KO of the opponent.
The scoring judgment is left to the referees present; there is no need to question the professionalism of these referees, they are absolutely among the top in the world.
Many referees themselves are even master fighters; the Sky Arena has almost never seen incidents of arbitrary scoring.
A proud smile appeared on Killua's youthful face.
In the stands, Kevin, mixed in with the cheering crowd, frowned.
"How can even a child be stronger than me? This world really is dangerous."
He was referring to combat skills.
The battle in the arena continued.
However, the situation had reversed from its initial state; Killua began to attack, forcing Ancient City to defend.
Especially Killua's attacks, each one was exceptionally lethal.
The score quickly reached 8 to 2.
"This Ancient City is stronger than the last opponent, right? How come Killua has gained such an absolute advantage instead?"
An enthusiast next to Kevin asked.
And the one who answered him was clearly an old fan of Killua, who said somewhat proudly: "You don't understand, do you? That kid is very strong, he improves in every battle. I personally watched him go from the 1st floor to the 140th floor in two months.
Last time I thought he had a chance, but I don't know why he gave up after being hit a few times. Perhaps he was too young, lacking stamina."
Kevin watched the battle in the arena while listening to the conversations of the enthusiasts next to him.
He had to admit that the discerning eyes of these fighting enthusiasts, who had long watched matches in the arena, were indeed very sharp.
At least before he received training from Bisky, his eyesight might not have been better than theirs.
How impressive.
"This kid is so cruel; every one of his attacks aims to kill the opponent," a middle-aged man said with some dissatisfaction.
Next to him was clearly another fan of Killua: "You're not from this country, are you?"
"What? Is there a problem?!" the middle-aged man asked, frowning unhappily.
This was the Mingbo Republic, one of the five major nations. As a resident of this country, a sense of pride was naturally inevitable.
The fan waved his hand and smiled: "I don't mean to be sarcastic, but Killua, he is a Zoldyck."
"Is there something wrong with that name?"
"Of course, that's the famous assassin family, legal assassins from the Republic of Batorchia, our neighboring country. Isn't that amazing?"
"Such a thing exists?"
At this moment, a whistle blew in the arena.
"Fatal score! The winner is Killua! The 150th-floor contestant, only six years old!"
After his victory, Killua successfully advanced to the 150th floor.
The entire viewing stand erupted in a wave of cheers.
In the arena, Ancient City had already fallen to the ground, clutching his abdomen, bleeding profusely. Doctors who had been prepared nearby began to treat him.
As for Killua, aside from some dust on his clothes, he looked almost unchanged.
He showed a sunny, childlike smile, waving to the audience in the stands, eliciting more screams.
…
Kevin was already filling out forms at the registration desk.
He listened to the counter lady next to him explain the rules of the Sky Arena.
The higher the floor, the more prize money one receives, and after reaching over one hundred floors, specialized accommodation rooms are provided, equivalent to a star-rated hotel.
Every ten floors constitute a level, and the one hundredth and two hundredth floors are considered watersheds. Battles above the two hundredth floor no longer offer prize money; they are more for honor.
Moreover, the prize money is extremely generous; after the one hundredth floor, the prize money reaches the millions, and after the one hundred and fiftieth floor, it rises to the tens of millions.
The one hundred and ninetieth floor directly awards two hundred million.
No wonder this place can gather so many martial artists; it's all about money.
"Do you need to fight now?"
"Is there one now?" Kevin asked, somewhat surprised.
The staff member nodded: "If you agree, a fight can be arranged now."
"Then arrange it."
Kevin hardly had to wait before a dedicated person led him to the arena.
As a newly registered first-floor contestant, the arena before him was clearly a relatively small one.
But what was interesting was that even for a first-floor fighter's arena, the stands were almost full of spectators.
During the preparation time, Kevin rested in the contestant lounge, able to watch the battles outside through the television screen in front of him.
He quickly understood why even the lowest-level competitions attracted so many viewers.
It turned out that people were placing bets; it was the Sky Arena's main source of income.
Many people constantly watched these initial fights, identifying those with potential, and following them by placing bets.
Kevin watched match after match.
These matches ended very quickly; either the difference between the two was immense, resulting in a direct KO, or they were amateurish, quickly reaching the score limit.
"Kevin, it's your turn."
Kevin stood up and walked towards the arena.
As a lower-level arena where battles occurred constantly, there were no dedicated commentators, only several referees rotating.
It wasn't until he stepped onto the fighting platform that Kevin saw his opponent.
His age seemed about the same as his own? Both looked to be in their teens.
That's right, this body was only just twenty, undoubtedly a prodigy.
"Another white-haired one?" Kevin couldn't help but complain.
His opponent was a tall, thin young man, most noticeable for his long white hair and the newsboy cap he wore.
Could it be another assassin family?
Although people's hair colors varied in this world, white hair was still relatively rare.
"Hello, my name is Kite," the opponent introduced himself gently.
Doesn't look like it.
However, Kevin did not relax, frowning and maintaining his vigilance.
"Hm, my name is Kevin."
What terrible luck; the opponent was actually a Nen User.
Among so many fighters, he had only seen a few Nen Users, yet he encountered one in his very first match.
Could it be that Nen Users attract each other?