As time passed, another combat festival approached, and the lively atmosphere from two years ago returned to Heavens Arena.
With the competition lineup revealed, the media went into a frenzy, hyping up potential contenders and stirring up anticipation. Behind the scenes, some fighters were already working to build their own momentum.
Among the most talked-about names was last festival's champion, Ronnel. His battle history and past match footage resurfaced, sparking heated discussions.
News that Ronnel—who had been absent from the scene for two years—had returned to Heavens Arena and taken up residence on the 251st floor sent excitement soaring even further.
Promotional announcements around the arena only added fuel to the fire. Statements like
"Victory has already been declared!" and "There's no suspense about this year's champion!" stirred the crowd into an even greater frenzy.
Yet, while the outside world buzzed with speculation, the man at the center of it all sat calmly in his room, meeting with a junior fighter.
Dressed in a familiar white training uniform, Zushi stood before Ronnel, bowing respectfully in the traditional Shingen-ryu manner. His crew-cut hair, thick eyebrows, and wide eyes gave him a serious yet youthful look.
"For this competition, please give me some guidance, Uncle!" he said earnestly.
The only ones in the room were Ronnel and Zushi. Shalnark and Machi were staying in nearby rooms, but that didn't matter—this entire floor belonged to Ronnel.
"I will," Ronnel replied with a smile, placing a hand on Zushi's shoulder. "I'm looking forward to seeing how much you've learned under Wing's guidance. I want to see the progress you've made on your own as well."
A nostalgic look crossed Ronnel's face. "I can't believe it's already been two years. Back then, you had just signed up to compete in Heavens Arena, and now you're officially stepping into the professional scene. Time really flies, doesn't it?"
Zushi quickly shook his head. "No, no, it's all thanks to Master Wing's teachings. I still have so much to learn. I need both Master Wing and you to correct my flaws." His expression was earnest, his posture straight with determination.
Ronnel studied him for a moment and let out a soft sigh. Zushi's eyes, once filled with childish innocence, had gained a sharper focus. The young martial artist was losing his youthful softness, slowly hardening into a true fighter.
It had been nine months since they last met—since the match between Kastro and Hisoka. In that time, Zushi had endured grueling training at Heavens Arena under Wing's guidance. His strength had clearly improved, something Ronnel could sense just from his presence.
Not only had his skills grown, but his spirit and energy had changed as well.
Back then, Zushi had been like a flower sheltered in a greenhouse. Now, after months of hardship, he had transformed into a true Shingen-ryu disciple.
Of course, while he had improved, he still had a long way to go—he wasn't even at Gon and Killua's level yet.
Even as a host fighter, he was only on the lower floors. Most likely, Wing wanted him to experience the high-pressure atmosphere of a major combat festival, to build up his resilience.
Word of Zushi's participation had already reached Gon and Killua, who were training with Kite, as well as Bisky, who was taking Shizuku to visit something. They all agreed to be there to watch the matches.
...
Meanwhile, in another room on a different floor…
???
"What the hell am I supposed to do?! That guy is actually competing again this year!"
"How should I know?!"
Two familiar voices bickered in a dimly lit room, filled with tension.
The speakers were unmistakable—one was wrapped in bandages, the other covered in silver acupuncture needles. If Ronnel were here, he'd recognize them instantly.
They were two seasoned Floor Masters who had a history with him.
They had faced each other in the last festival and had also clashed during the fight for the Amethyst Grape Crystal at the Cruz Cemetery.
Perhaps it was the trauma from their previous encounters, but both had trained fiercely since then, pushing themselves to new heights. Against all odds, they had defended their Floor Master titles and earned their spots in this year's festival.
Originally, they had hoped that Ronnel would never return to the competition. But fate had other plans.
"So, do we still go with that strategy?" the silver-needled fighter asked grimly, turning to his bandaged companion.
The bandaged fighter sighed heavily. "If we don't want to get wiped out immediately, it's our only option."
"Dammit," the silver-needled fighter groaned. "It wasn't easy defending my Floor Master title and making it back to the Battle Olympia. Not many posters get a second chance like this. But if I run into him early on…"
His voice trailed off, and he shuddered at the thought.
The bandaged fighter shot him a sidelong glance. "Your best bet is just hoping you don't get placed in his bracket. If you're lucky, maybe you can struggle your way to the later rounds. But if you're matched against him from the start…"
At that, the silver-needled fighter visibly paled. He immediately shook his head as if trying to erase the thought.
"This is bullshit! He already won the championship once—why is he even here again?!"
Their complaints echoed into the night.
And then… morning arrived.
The moment the sun rose, explosive news swept through Heavens Arena.
Two highly anticipated Floor Masters, both considered strong contenders for the title, suddenly announced their withdrawal from the combat festival.
Their reason?
Due to severe relapses of old injuries, their physical condition had deteriorated beyond recovery. Doctors had determined that they were unfit to compete.
The shocking announcement caused an uproar, with debates and speculation running wild.
After all… had they really withdrawn due to injuries?
Or had something—or someone—terrified them into backing out?
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