Gotoh was still waiting in the corridor.
When he saw Ronin coming down, he even gave him a friendly smile.
Ronin waved a hand in response. He'd just been doing the job he was paid for.
After leaving the arena, Ronin's main concern was still whether Illumi would come after him.
That guy's killing intent earlier had been very real. A brother-obsessed psychopath like that was not someone Ronin wanted to provoke.
Ronin had no intention of getting close to Killua. With both a lunatic and a butler watching over him, trying to approach Killua now would be nothing short of suicide.
With only C-rank ninjutsu under his belt, Ronin didn't consider himself anywhere near invincible.
Fortunately, Illumi never actually came looking for him afterward. It seemed that burst of killing intent had only been triggered by Ronin brutally overpowering Killua in the ring, and hadn't spilled over into everyday life.
Ronin also suspected that the Zoldyck family's "paid work only" principle was what led Illumi to give up on dealing with him, a Nen user.
Even so, Ronin didn't let his guard down. Being cautious was never a bad thing—especially since he also had to stay alert for the Phantom Troupe's return.
In this world, identity checks were fairly strict. With the internet becoming more widespread and Hunters existing as well, gathering information was getting easier and easier. As long as someone had money, tracking down his location wouldn't be difficult.
Unless he chose to disappear into some remote wilderness and live completely off the grid.
Which clearly wasn't an option.
Ronin's assessment of his injuries turned out to be accurate. On the eighth day after arriving at Heaven's Arena—the day he completed the 190th floor match and earned the right to challenge the 200th floor—his arm and side wounds had fully healed.
When he won that match, Ronin spotted a familiar head of white hair in the audience.
It was Killua.
He was probably still unwilling to accept how easily Ronin had defeated him before.
But Ronin also sensed a brief flicker of killing intent coming from Killua—sharp, sudden, and gone just as fast.
Watching Killua hurriedly leave, a thought crossed Ronin's mind. Had Illumi already implanted that needle into Killua's head this early?
Either way, it had nothing to do with him.
By the time Ronin reached the 200th floor, the money in his pocket had already climbed to 200 million.
His victory on the 190th floor alone had earned him a 200-million prize!
Winning again only granted him the qualification to enter the 200th floor—it didn't come with any additional prize money.
Instead, when he left the ring, he found someone else waiting for him in the corridor.
This time, it wasn't Gotoh, but a woman Ronin didn't recognize.
"Mr. Ronin, hello. My name is Millia. I'm a gold-medal agent, and I'd like to talk to you about a win-win opportunity."
As she spoke, she smoothly handed him a business card.
Ronin reached out and took it.
Millia. Gold-Medal Agent.
He put the card away and looked at her more closely.
Jet-black waist-length hair like a flowing waterfall, delicate fair features with light makeup, a fitted black business suit, and gold-rimmed glasses that she gently adjusted with one hand—she looked every bit the polished professional woman.
But just like Ronin, she was wrapped in Ten.
Which meant this agent was also a Nen user.
That alone made Ronin more cautious.
"I believe Mr. Ronin has tremendous personal value," Millia said politely, her cool voice carrying a hint of sincerity. "With my support, you'd have a very real chance of becoming a floor master."
The promise sounded a bit too generous to Ronin.
He knew a thing or two about agents.
Heaven's Arena matches attracted over a billion viewers daily—and that number was still growing every year.
The most watched fights were those above the 200th floor. Every fighter who made it there had enormous potential, and the floor masters were even brighter stars than celebrities.
When Ronin first arrived in the city, the streets had been plastered with posters featuring 200th-floor fighters and floor masters endorsing products.
The floor masters, in particular, were everywhere. After all, being a floor master didn't just mean overwhelming strength—it also meant you were hard to kill.
Matches above the 200th floor had a notoriously high death rate.
Agents like Millia specialized in turning fighters into stars. They controlled vast resources that could help promising fighters earn money and fame faster.
The fact that Millia had earned the title of gold-medal agent was proof enough of her ability.
Ronin didn't reject her outright. Instead, he led her to a lounge, thinking the whole way about what working with Millia could actually bring him.
He didn't really mind becoming famous.
But he needed enough strength first. A famous Ronin would be an incredibly tempting piece of bait for the Troupe—or more precisely, for Uvogin.
As long as he prepared properly, Ronin was confident he could kill Uvogin and still escape alive.
"You really think I have the potential to become a floor master?" Ronin asked, puzzled.
Uvogin was still a distant goal, and Ronin himself didn't have much confidence in becoming a floor master—at least not anytime soon.
Millia shook her head. "Your strength isn't quite there yet. But your image is excellent. And like I said, it's with my support that you'd have a chance."
Ronin started to understand what she meant.
"So you can power me up?" he asked bluntly.
Ronin wasn't good at mind games. He had to admit—Hisoka was sometimes spot-on when judging people. Ronin just didn't have that many tricks up his sleeve.
Still, his instincts told him Millia wasn't acting out of malice. She was calculating, yes—but not hostile.
"You could put it that way," Millia nodded. "I've watched your fights and made a rough assessment of your aura. It's solid—stronger than most rookies. And I can tell you're deliberately refining your combat skills, improving at a very fast pace. Honestly, you're a genius."
She paused, then added, "A combat genius."
"Then I need to know something," Ronin said, getting to the heart of the matter. "Is your 'enhancement' something that gives me a temporary boost in power, or does it help me improve my own strength faster?"
He didn't really care whether he became a floor master.
As Millia had said, he'd come to Heaven's Arena to hone his skills.
Whether or not he reached the top didn't matter much to him.
Millia's appeal came down to two possibilities: either she could help him train faster, like Biscuit, or she could help him make more money.
Ronin doubted she could do the former—but he was fairly sure she could do the latter.
That's why he deliberately framed the question around the first option, downplaying money's importance, hoping to gain some leverage in the negotiation.
Millia frowned slightly, then answered honestly:
"Temporary."