Many spectators who had placed high hopes on these two fighters over the past two tournaments were furious, cursing loudly. Gamblers who had bet heavily on them nearly flipped their tables in frustration!
Fortunately, the two fighters announced their withdrawal three days before the tournament officially began. While this decision certainly harmed their reputations, it did not technically violate the competition's rules.
At worst, it left the organizing committee of the combat festival caught off guard.
However, rather than dampening enthusiasm, their withdrawal only fueled excitement further. The two fighters issued sincere public apologies, which helped pacify the organizing committee somewhat.
Citing an old injury as the reason for withdrawal was a convenient excuse.
These two Floor Masters were smart enough to withdraw before the tournament brackets were drawn. If they had waited to see their matchups and only then backed out, it would have been a completely different story.
Withdrawing at that stage would have looked highly suspicious.
Oh, you were perfectly fine before, but the moment your opponent is revealed, you suddenly suffer a relapse and quit?
Who would believe that nonsense?!
At that point, it wouldn't just be their reputation on the line.
They might even find themselves torn apart by the furious organizing committee, pushed beyond their limits yet again.
Just like Roquette, who once withdrew without warning.
That's right—the same Roquette who was scared out of his mind after seeing Ronnel cut down Thatcher with a single strike. He ran off in secret, abandoning the tournament without informing anyone, leaving the audience and the organizing committee in utter chaos.
Roquette, the short and stout Floor Master with dark green skin, was the first to ever dare withdraw from the combat festival.
The officials of Heavens Arena were not about to let him off easily.
Since Roquette owned a residence in Heavens Arena, it wasn't difficult for them to track him down. The arena hired a Nen user specializing in tracking, who swiftly located him.
Shortly afterward, Heavens Arena sent a few of their elite enforcers to bring Roquette back by force.
Though no official statement was ever made about his fate, due to "harmonious" considerations, word spread quickly among the fighters and hardcore fans.
And his outcome? Tsk tsk, let's just say... calling it "miserable" would be an understatement.
After Heavens Arena made an example of him, fighters worldwide couldn't help but shudder. They quickly put away their arrogance and once again remembered to respect the arena's rules.
The bandaged host and the silver-needle host had no desire to end up like Roquette. They wisely chose to withdraw while they still could, before things spiraled out of control.
Other contestants laughed at them, but deep down, they were relieved.
Then, they turned their gazes toward the remaining fighters with expressions that were both pitiful and schadenfreude-filled.
Laugh all you want now. When the tournament starts, you'll be the ones crying.
Little did they know, withdrawing had been their smartest decision.
...
A Village Long Forgotten
In a small, remote, and desolate village.
The houses were run-down, thick with cobwebs. The wind carried yellow sand and dust, stinging the eyes of any who dared venture there.
No one had lived in this village for a long time.
But today, someone had returned.
A group of figures, cloaked in deep black robes, walked in unison along the deserted village path.
"Battle Olympia? Heavens Arena?"
The leader of the group, reading from a newspaper in his hand, spoke in a hoarse, dry voice.
"Netero really picked himself a fine burial ground."
With a chuckle, he released the newspaper, letting it drift away in the dusty wind.
As the paper tumbled through the air, its contents briefly came into view:
"Hunter Association Chairman Isaac Netero to Appear Once Again at the Battle Olympia!"
Accompanying the headline was a photograph of Netero himself—an old man with a long, wispy beard, exuding the air of a legendary martial artist.
"Before the entire world, this is the perfect stage. When the time comes, you and those worms will finally reveal the truth from all those years ago. Your reputation will be completely destroyed."
"And then, I'll send you to meet our former comrades!"
"Decades have passed. You may have forgotten what you did to us—but we haven't. We've waited too long for this day!!"
The wind howled, carrying dust, mist, and yellow sand across the abandoned village. The group's figures gradually vanished into the storm, leaving behind only a lingering voice filled with unrelenting hatred—until even that was swept away by the wind.
...
The Tournament Begins
Three days flew by in the blink of an eye. Once again, it was the busiest day in Heavens Arena's biennial event.
Ronnel, who had already experienced this tournament two years prior, found this year's atmosphere to be noticeably calmer. There was none of the nervous energy that had permeated the last competition.
He hadn't even bothered to review his opponents' information or watch any battle footage.
It had to be said—this year's posters were significantly weaker than before.
If even someone like Zushi could qualify, then the competition must have lowered its standards.
No wonder Hisoka had locked himself in his room, stacking pyramid-shaped playing cards in complete disinterest, without even turning on the television.
Of course, Chrollo had already relocated to Ronnel's room by then.
Speaking of Kurapika, this year he had arrived at the event alongside Neon, the daughter of the Nostrade family, with his colleagues Basho and Melody in tow.
Meanwhile, Shalnark and Phinks remained behind, handling family affairs and tending to Light Nostrade, who had fallen ill from the stress of securing his family's future. They watched the tournament unfold on television.
To enhance the spectacle, the tournament organizers had specially adjusted the official start time to 6 p.m., ensuring the competition would unfold in prime time for maximum viewership.
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