Yorbian Continent, Duchy of Stuttgart.
This was a small country under the V5's jurisdiction; it wasn't large in area or population, appearing only as a fingernail-sized speck on the map.
However, the architecture here was exquisite and sophisticated, the streets were clean and tidy, and every corner exuded the unique reserve and restraint of the nobility.
On the outskirts of the city, an inconspicuous little villa stood quietly by a birch forest.
There were no high walls, no guards, and not even a house number.
Only a black sedan was parked at the entrance, its engine having just been turned off, with faint white smoke still rising from the exhaust pipe.
In the living room, Liam sat in a wide leather chair, holding a cup of steaming coffee in his hands.
Sunlight spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, plating him in a layer of warm golden light, making him look like a leisurely noble enjoying an afternoon.
This was a place he only came to during his vacations, and it was extremely secretive.
A man in black stood before him, his posture upright and his hands hanging formally at his sides.
His voice was low and clear, each word spoken with perfect precision.
"Blake Spencer of the Ten Dons has already agreed."
Liam picked up his coffee and took a sip, not interrupting.
The man in black continued.
"However, he claims that the collective exchange gathering for the world's underworld gangs is in two months. If he were to act rashly now, it would affect the stability between the overall gang factions."
The corner of Liam's mouth twitched slightly.
"Furthermore..."
The man in black lowered his voice even further.
"The Colton Gang is a force under the command of another of the Ten Dons, Gavin Lowell. There's no problem with the rules if Blake moves against Colton, but as for Gavin's side... that needs to be resolved."
Liam set down his coffee cup with a light clink.
He smiled, a faint smile as if he had anticipated all of this long ago.
"I see."
His voice was calm, devoid of any emotion.
"Allocate that batch of Materials stuck in the warehouse to Blake."
The man in black was slightly stunned.
That batch of Materials—even if they were just 'backlogged items'—was valuable enough to tempt any of the Ten Dons.
To just give them away like that, without even a bit of bargaining?
But he didn't ask further.
"Understood."
The man in black nodded respectfully and turned to leave.
The sound of footsteps quickly faded outside the door.
Liam stood up and walked to the window.
Outside, the leaves of the birch forest swayed gently in the wind, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled shadows on the ground.
In the distance, the outline of the city was faintly visible, quiet and peaceful.
"Those fellows are indeed very greedy,"
he whispered to himself.
"But being greedy is just right."
"After stalling for so long, it's time to shut those fools up."
He turned around, his gaze falling on the open file on the table.
In the photo was the back of a young man in white.
"The stage has been set."
Liam picked up his coffee and finished it in one gulp.
"I hope you can satisfy me."
He placed the empty cup on the table and turned toward the depths of the study.
The sunlight cast a long shadow behind him.
Meanwhile, Leo was still constantly hunting various wanted criminals.
He utilized Ashir's teleportation medium to shuttle rapidly between different continents.
Nico was responsible for intelligence support, summarizing, filtering, and confirming every lead before precisely pushing them to him.
The efficiency was extremely high; his savings were constantly increasing, and his Rank was advancing slowly but steadily.
July 10th, Heavens Arena.
On this day, every seat around the 210th-floor arena was occupied.
The audience stands were packed with people, and the cheering, shouting, and whistling blended together, making the entire venue buzz.
The giant electronic screen scrolled through the photos and records of the two contestants, and spotlights illuminated the ring as bright as day.
The commentator's voice echoed through every corner via the loudspeakers, sounding as excited as if he were competing on stage himself.
"The battle everyone has been eagerly anticipating is finally about to begin!"
He drew out his tone and suddenly raised his volume.
"Contestant Gon—VS—Contestant Hisoka!"
Applause and shouts thundered.
"Contestant Gon's record so far is three wins and one loss! As a newcomer who just reached the 200th floor, this achievement is already quite brilliant!"
The screen switched to Gon's photo—a small figure in green with a bright smile.
"And his opponent, Contestant Hisoka—his record is eight wins and three losses! He is only two wins away from achieving ten wins and earning the Floor Master challenge qualification!"
Hisoka's photo appeared on the screen, showing red hair, exquisite makeup, and a faint, ambiguous smile on his lips.
A complex wave of discussion rose from the audience—some were expectant, while others were purely there to watch the spectacle.
Wing sat in the front row with his arms crossed, his expression calm.
Chiharu sat beside him with a serious expression.
Kastro sat to Wing's right, his gaze steady.
Goreinu sat next to him, watching this level of competition for the first time, not even daring to blink.
Nico sat beside Goreinu, a laptop resting on her lap, her fingers dancing rapidly across the keys.
Killua sat on the far edge, hands in his pockets, expressionless.
But his eyes were fixed on the ring, never once looking away.
On the ring.
Gon stood in his position, fists clenched and eyes focused.
Opposite him, Hisoka stood leisurely with one hand on his hip, the smile on his face impossible to read.
The sound of the referee announcing the rules buzzed in the background, but Gon didn't hear a single word.
He was simply staring at Hisoka, staring at the person who had casually defeated him during the Hunter Exam.
He had waited a long time for this day.
"Match start!"
The moment the words fell, Gon charged out.
His speed was astonishingly fast; the moment Hisoka sidestepped to dodge, Gon's fist had already grazed past his cheek.
Hisoka's eyes lit up slightly as playing cards flipped between his fingers, tracing a cold light.
Gon didn't retreat but pressed forward, his other fist following up immediately!
"Bam!"
The fist smashed into Hisoka's parrying arm, letting out a muffled sound.
Hisoka took half a step back.
He wasn't knocked back; he stepped back on his own.
He tilted his head, looking at Gon, the smile on his lips deepening.
"Oh?"
His voice carried that characteristic vibrato.
"You've made quite some progress~"
Gon didn't answer.
He charged again, using both hands and feet in a tidal wave of attacks.
One punch was blocked.
One kick was evaded.
Another punch grazed Hisoka's shoulder.
Hisoka didn't strike back.
He was admiring, testing, and using his own body to measure Gon's limits.
Every dodge was perfectly timed, and every block left room to spare.
He was like a cat teasing a mouse that was struggling desperately.
But Gon was no mouse.
The fourth punch landed on Hisoka's shoulder.
The force wasn't great, but it was a solid hit.
Hisoka glanced at the fist that had struck him, then looked up at Gon.
In those golden pupils, a light flashed that was hard to decipher.
"Not bad."
Then Hisoka began his active assault.
Hisoka landed a tricky hook that smashed hard into Gon's left cheek.
"Bam!"
Gon was knocked to the ground.
But he immediately scrambled up, creating distance between himself and Hisoka.
Hisoka's finger crooked slightly!
An invisible, massive pulling force suddenly acted on Gon's cheek.
That was 'Bungee Gum', Hisoka's Nen threads, which had long since stuck to Gon's face.
Caught off guard, Gon's body was violently yanked up by this force.
Like a marionette, he flew uncontrollably toward Hisoka's direction!
And Hisoka's fist, already poised and waiting, smashed hard into that face once again with a smile!
BAM—!!!
Another solid, muffled impact!
Gon was sent flying again, flipping halfway in the air before crashing heavily onto the edge of the ring.
However, with the reinforcement of Nen defense, the injuries weren't severe, though both his cheeks were swollen and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.
In the audience, Killua clenched his fists, his nails almost digging into his palms.
Wing remained expressionless, but his fingers tapped lightly on his knee, once, and then again.
Chiharu was so nervous he held his breath, his lips pressed into a line.
Kastro sat motionless, simply watching.
Goreinu watched with great surprise; Hisoka's strength exceeded his imagination.
Nico's hands also stopped tapping the keyboard as she watched the scene intently.
On the ring, the battle continued.
Gon was knocked down time and again, and time and again he got back up.
Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth and his arms were covered in bruises, but his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
After a series of exchanges, the match ended as expected with Hisoka's victory.
"Gon's match is over; Hisoka won."
After the match, Goreinu spoke with Leo over the phone.
"I know."
Leo's voice was very calm, as if he had expected this result long ago.
"Gon and Killua have already left Heavens Arena. They both asked me to say thank you to you, they are very grateful for your guidance, Martial Uncle Leo."
Goreinu continued.
Leo smiled; that fellow Killua definitely wouldn't do that, only Gon would be so enthusiastic.
"Also, Kastro and Hisoka have scheduled a match. It's on August 8th."
"Kastro has already achieved ten wins and successfully challenged a Floor Master, taking the position of Floor Master. He's waiting for Hisoka to become a Floor Master as well, then the two of them will battle to the death on the ring!"
Leo raised an eyebrow, not expecting Kastro to challenge Hisoka so soon.
Leo's voice rang out again.
"Mm, I understand. I'll go watch on the day of the match."
He then hung up the phone.
Somewhere on the Yorbian Continent.
Leo put away his phone and stood on a cliff, gazing at the distant skyline.
The wind was strong, making the hem of his clothes flutter loudly.
August 1st. Kastro versus Hisoka.
This battle was finally coming.
He remembered the days Kastro spent training with him in the Thousand Needle Forest Valley, remembering the back of that young man punching the tree trunk over and over, his clothes soaked with sweat.
What would be the result of this battle?
Leo didn't know, but he was looking forward to it.
He turned around, stepped through the light door behind him, and vanished from the cliff.