"You may proceed to the fiftieth floor," the referee said to Akira.
Akira glanced toward another ring. A muscular man had just been sent flying, while Gon stood on the platform, staring at his own hand in surprise.
"Alright," Akira replied casually.
On yet another ring, Killua ended his match with a clean hand chop.
Akira's gaze shifted again—this time landing on a flat-haired boy in a martial arts uniform.
Zushi.
Wing's disciple.
If Zushi was competing here, then—
Akira looked up toward the spectator seats and spotted Wing, calmly watching the matches. Wing sensed Akira's gaze and returned it with a gentle smile.
Those who possessed Nen were always sensitive to being observed.
Akira nodded politely and stepped off the ring.
Inside the elevator heading to the fiftieth floor, Akira found himself sharing the ride with Gon, Killua, and Wing.
They were the only four going straight from the first floor to the fiftieth.
After a brief pause, Akira raised a hand in greeting.
"Yo. Gon, Killua. Long time no see."
"What kind of creepy cold open is that?" Killua shot back, arms hanging loosely at his sides—but his body was already poised to strike at a moment's notice.
"It's you!" Gon suddenly exclaimed in realization.
"Number 88—Hyūga Akira!"
Killua's eyes went wide. He jabbed a finger at Akira.
"No way! That guy was completely different! Height, build—everything! And those eyes—these are two totally different people!"
Gon scratched his head, equally puzzled.
"Yeah, but… the feeling is the same. It has to be him."
He couldn't explain why two people who looked nothing alike felt identical to him.
Akira formed a hand seal.
Puff.
Smoke burst out, and he reverted to Mu Yu's appearance.
"How about now?"
Killua stared, dumbfounded.
"What the hell is that ability?"
Gon immediately looked enlightened.
Zushi, standing nearby, stared at Akira in shock.
"Nen," Akira said suddenly, turning toward Zushi. "You're training it, right?"
"Nen?" Gon and Killua echoed at the same time, both completely lost. They had never even heard the name of that power before—though Killua had seen it in action more than once.
Zushi hesitated, then nodded.
"Yes… I'm training in Nen."
Was he supposed to introduce himself at this point?
Puff.
Akira dispelled the transformation and returned to his original appearance. He pointed at his face.
"This is what I really look like. Remember it."
He didn't care much about exposing his real appearance. There was no Hyūga clan in this world, so it didn't matter.
If his eyes attracted black-market attention, he'd honestly welcome it.
Experience was experience—didn't matter who provided it.
"Is that a ninja ability?" Gon asked curiously. "Can Hanzo do it too?"
For candidates of their generation, Hanzo and Akira being ninja-types wasn't exactly a secret.
"This is Nen," Akira repeated patiently.
"A power anyone can learn."
"And a power you will learn in the future."
Ding.
The elevator arrived at the fiftieth floor.
"Catch you later," Akira said with a wave as he stepped out first.
Once Akira disappeared from view, the smile vanished from Killua's face.
He turned to Zushi.
"He's after you. Be careful."
That guy had never shown any interest in Gon or Killua before. This sudden approach wasn't aimed at them.
Killua's instincts were sharp. Even if he didn't know Akira's exact goal, he didn't want to be dragged into it.
"Huh?" Zushi looked completely lost.
Killua grabbed the still-confused Gon and walked off the elevator.
A warning was all he was willing to give.
He didn't want to face that guy.
Akira felt the same kind of danger as his brother Illumi.
Akira didn't care at all that his intentions had been noticed.
His goal was simple—to lay the groundwork for contact with Wing.
After collecting his prize money, he continued fighting.
On the fiftieth floor, he didn't run into the trio again.
Sixtieth floor.
Seventieth floor.
Eightieth floor.
One hundredth floor.
"The incredible winning streak continues! 'Vanishing Akira,' 'Hand-Chop Killua,' and 'Push-Hand Gon'—six consecutive victories each! Who can stop them?!"
The announcer's voice echoed throughout the arena.
Akira casually dug a finger into his ear.
He wasn't excited—just annoyed.
Total experience gained so far:
[EXP +184]
So little it was almost insulting.
After seeing five-figure experience gains, this kind of number barely registered.
As for the nickname Vanishing Akira, it was just because people couldn't see his movements. He was ending matches by striking pressure points and knocking opponents unconscious.
Hyūga Gentle Fist was designed to cut off chakra flow—but even without chakra, it could still knock someone out.
He stepped down from the ring.
After the hundredth floor, prize money increased, and the arena started providing lodging.
One hundred and tenth floor.
"Today's match is unprecedented! Two genius fighters collide!"
"Hand-Chop Killua versus Vanishing Akira!!!"
Akira, who'd been slouching in the audience with zero interest, instantly perked up.
"Killua, huh?" He rubbed his chin.
"Contestants, please enter the ring!"
As the announcement rang out, Akira leapt down from the stands.
Beyond the hundredth floor, the arena layout changed—only one massive ring remained, and the audience was far denser.
Cheers thundered from every direction.
Akira stepped onto the ring.
Killua was already in a combat stance, his earlier relaxed demeanor completely gone.
"What a pain… I was planning to hand-chop my way straight to the 200th floor. Why did it have to be this guy?"
His danger sense screamed at him.
This wasn't like facing someone with strange abilities—where once they activated that power, he knew to run.
Akira was just standing there.
And yet Killua already felt the urge to flee.
A thick scent of blood seemed to hang in the air.
Akira, by contrast, looked perfectly relaxed.
"Yo, Killua," he greeted warmly.
Killua reacted as if pricked by a needle, instantly retreating to the edge of the ring.
Akira studied him thoughtfully.
He remembered that Killua always chose to run when facing overwhelming opponents—but that instinct wasn't entirely his own.
It was something Illumi had implanted into him.
"Relax," Akira said. "I won't use Nen. Just a straight-up fight."
"Let me see the assassination arts of the Zoldyck family."
Akira wasn't expecting much experience from Killua anyway.
He was just curious about this world's physical combat techniques.
Killua took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the fear in his chest.
If the opponent really didn't use Nen, then—he still had a chance.
The referee glanced between them.
His raised hand came down sharply.
"Match begin!"
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