Chapter 16: The Suited Thug
A week later, the Heavens Arena, on the 49th floor, was bursting with excitement.
"Dear spectators! Please give a warm round of applause to the two fighters who will face each other today!
On one side, we have the 'Working Knight', Haze a rising star who's been the center of attention recently with an unbroken streak of thirty-three consecutive victories!
On the other, our veteran fighter, 'Wind Walker' Gary Yous, who has Haze stood firm between floors forty and fifty!"
The white-haired announcer shouted passionately into the mic, his voice echoing through the stadium and setting off a wave of cheers from the audience.
The camera focused on Haze wearing, as always, his "knight's armor": a white shirt, simple trousers, and leather shoes.
"For those watching at home," the announcer continued, "the contestant Hazejoined Heavens Arena only ten days ago and has already climbed at lightning speed! Every opponent he's faced has fallen in a single strike, averaging less than two seconds per match! He's broken Heavens Arena's Haze-standing record!"
"Can he continue his miraculous streak today? Let's find out!"
It was worth mentioning that Hazeappeared to be an ordinary office worker who joined Heavens Arena purely for the prize money.
Yet his fights had gone viral particularly among male viewers, most of them salarymen.
To them, Hazehad become something of a spiritual idol thus earning the nickname, "The Working Knight."
Hazestepped onto the stage with a calm expression.
He was too lazy to even complain about the ridiculous nickname anymore.
He had started with one match per day, then two, then three…
As his victories piled up, the rules allowed him to challenge higher floors.
His ability to end fights instantly caught the attention of the management and of the audience.
In the original timeline, fighters like Gon and Killua were assigned directly to the 50th floor by referees who assessed their strength.
Hazedidn't have that luxury nor did most others.
He had to apply to move up each floor manually.
At this time, the rules of Heavens Arena were slightly different from how they would be eight years later.
Once a newcomer demonstrated overwhelming skill, they received promotion and publicity.
The higher the floor, the greater the exposure.
By the 20th floor, matches were even broadcast live on local TV.
Heavens Arena was deliberately promoting him and milking his popularity.
Still, Hazehadn't expected a nickname as lame as "Working Knight."
He had no idea who started the rumor that he was a salaryman.
And somehow, it spread until men started asking him for autographs.
Men. Only men.
"Rookie, your win streak ends here."
Gary Yous the "Wind Walker" smirked as he pointed a finger at Haze.
He had slicked-back hair, a smug expression, and was dressed more like a nightclub playboy than a fighter.
"I've watched your tapes. You're fast, sure but your opponents were nHazedies. I've held my ground near the 50th floor for years without being eliminated."
"Yeah, yeah, got it," Hazereplied flatly.
Almost every opponent tried to give a speech before the fight.
He was getting tired of it.
"You !"
Gary's forehead pulsed in anger.
"Start," Hazesaid to the referee.
The whistle blew.
Hazestood still, hands in his pockets.
Gary, however, leapt back, darting around like a grasshopper flipping, rolling, and circling Hazewith astonishing agility.
"That's the contestant Yous's trademark agility!" the commentator shouted. "He's famous for his lightning reflexes and deadly counterattacks! His opponents usually lose the moment they overextend!"
"Three seconds… he's lasted three seconds! Four seconds!"
"Haha! See? You can't hit me! I'm not some slow rookie! You can't win if you can't touch !"
He didn't finish the sentence.
His vision blurred.
Hazelazily pulled one hand from his pocket and, with a flick of his wrist, drove his fist straight into Gary's nose.
A sharp crack rang out.
Gary's face twisted grotesquely, blood and broken teeth scattering midair as his body spun and crashed off the stage, limp and motionless.
"Tch… can't you idiots just shut up for once?" Hazemuttered, waving dismissively before walking off the ring.
A thunderous roar erupted from the crowd.
He was barely trying anymore.
The lower floors had become meaningless to him.
No one's strength or technique could interest him.
With sheer physical ability alone, he crushed opponent after opponent.
To capitalize on his popularity, Heavens Arena's executives had crafted a near-mythical image around him even adjusting the tournament rules to push him higher.
In just two weeks, Hazehad skyrocketed to the 150th floor, shattering all precedents.
His matches sold out completely, and his new title "The Suited Thug" had replaced that embarrassing "Working Knight."
Finally, he was free from that nickname.
At the 150th floor, things changed.
His opponents were now the strongest of that tier, and the fights were broadcast in prime time.
Only one match per day a full event.
Ticket prices had tripled.
The next day, in Haze's luxurious suite one he now lived in alone staff arrived with a folder containing information about his next opponent.
Hazewas now a celebrity.
His face appeared on posters and screens throughout the building.
"Thanks," he said lazily, taking the documents.
When the staff left, he tossed them casually onto the table.
He remembered:
In the original timeline, Gon and Killua had also caused a sensation by obliterating opponents below the 180th floor with a single palm strike.
That didn't mean the Heavens Arena fighters were weak it meant the boys were that strong.
Their natural talent and Nen potential were terrifying.
Hazestretched and prepared to head out for a walk.
Between fights, he'd been investigating the local casinos and betting networks.
His overwhelming win streak had made his betting odds so low that it wasn't even profitable anymore.
He wasn't ready to become a bookmaker himself not yet.
Then something on the floor caught his eye.
A page had slipped from the folder.
A photograph and a name.
Wing.
Haze's expression sharpened.
He picked up the paper and examined it.
The young man in the photo wore glasses, a loose shirt, and a gentle smile.
The notes said he had been fighting for three months, advancing slowly, losing once around the 149th floor and was now the reigning champion awaiting challengers.
A dark horse, though far from as explosive as Hazehimself.
No one paid much attention to him.
In Heavens Arena, countless fighters came and went.
Unless someone completely dominated like Haze, fame was fleeting.
Even with Haze's current reputation, he was still considered only a rising newcomer.
The true stars were those above the 200th floor.
"It's him," Hazemurmured, eyes glinting.
He tossed the paper aside and sat back down.
Wing Biscuit's student, and the one who would later teach Nen to Gon and Killua.
A disciple of the Heart Source Fist school.
"After floor 100, his progress slowed… he's been studying other martial arts styles between matches adapting, evolving. He must be using the downtime for training."
"That means…" Haze's eyes narrowed. "Biscuit must be here."
"He's probably a Nen user fighting without using Nen.
That's likely Biscuit's intent: to make him rely solely on body and technique first."
"So he's learned Nen… but hasn't fought with it yet."
Hazeswitched off the TV, holding the remote loosely.
"What a coincidence…" he muttered, a grin creeping across his face.
"Heh. Let's see if you can make things interesting for me."
He cracked his knuckles, eyes gleaming.
Since fate had brought them together, it would be a waste not to have some fun.
(End of Chapter)