Hunter x Hunter: The Strongest Zoldyck

Chapter 109 A Break in the Battle

Ding-dong!

A crisp electronic sound rang out, and the door opened.

The long corridor was brightly lit, as if it were daytime.

"Let's go."

Roy stepped out of the elevator first, followed closely by Fica. The passageway was wide enough for the four of them to walk side by side.

The ground was covered with dark gray non-slip tiles, which were illuminated by rows of LED light strips overhead, making it almost possible to see people's shadows.

The walls on both sides are a cold white, without any decoration, except for a dark wooden door that appears every few steps, with different numbers and functional areas marked on the door... athletes' rest room, medical room, supply station.

The entire corridor was eerily quiet, not because no one was there... but because the space was designed to absorb excess echoes. Footsteps on the ground made only a very soft "tap-tap" sound... muffled, as if swallowed up by something.

A faint scent of cleaning agents filled the air, mixed with the unique smell of the arena, a blend of old and new.

Metal, sweat, and a hint of the bitterness of disinfectant.

The two walked through the passageway one after the other and turned the corner.

Suddenly, the view opened up...

A huge semi-circular space is embedded in the very center of the 175th floor of the Sky Arena.

The stands radiate outwards in a stepped fashion from the four directions, rising one level at a time, similar to the design of the Colosseum in ancient Rome.

The stands were already mostly filled with spectators, a sea of ​​black.

Below the gray-brown rim of the stands, three standard square arenas rise up.

Each ring is approximately twelve meters long on each side, surrounded by thick spring ropes, and covered with dark green cushioning pads that provide a slight bounce when stepped on.

The mat wasn't new; there were several worn marks on the edges, revealing the grayish-black underlying material... those were the marks left by countless battles.

A huge electronic display screen hangs silently above the arena, displaying rows of numbers showing the numbers and floors of the two opponents who are about to fight. Spotlights are also embedded in the four corners of the display screen, illuminating the central area of ​​the arena brightly, as if to make it clearer for all the spectators.

There is a pillar at each of the four corners of the ring, covered with thick padding that has turned yellowish.

Each pillar has a small megaphone at its top, from which the referee's deep voice, adjusting the microphone, is currently being heard.

"Test...Test...One, two, three."

Countless sounds surged in from all directions simultaneously, carrying faint electrical noise.

To Roy, the entire arena area resembled an elaborately designed gladiatorial arena.

Because from any angle, the ring is the absolute center of the entire arena.

No matter where you sit in the stands, you can see everything that happens on the ring without any obstruction.

"It seems that the competition above the 170th floor is indeed different... even the design of the arena has changed."

"Is this because the contestants' skills have been recognized, or because the spectators are betting more?"

Standing at the entrance of the semi-circular space, his silver-gray eyes swept across the entire area.

Roy's gaze lingered on the ring for a moment before shifting to the stands. He had already gotten his answer from the expressions of the referee and the audience.

"It should be the latter..."

With a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, Roy muttered a self-deprecating remark.

"Boss, what did you say?"

Fika, who was standing next to him, was so engrossed in the scene that he didn't hear Roy's mutterings, so he asked him a question.

"It's nothing." Withdrawing her gaze, Roy walked towards the front row of the players' area.

"I meant this arena is really beautiful."

Fika paused for a moment, scratched his head, unsure if his boss was just giving him a perfunctory answer.

But seeing Roy's retreating figure, he quickly jogged after him.

The two found a seat on the side of the first row and sat down.

The leather seats were a bit cold, and when I sat down, they made a dull thud.

Fica looked around: "Boss, it seems your match schedule hasn't been released yet?"

"It's not my turn yet." Roy glanced at the scrolling battle information on the electronic display screen.

"I should have three more games ahead of me."

"Shall we wait a bit?"

"Um."

Leaning back in his chair, Roy put his hands in his pockets, half-closed his eyes, and began to rest.

Soon, the noise from the stands began to rise.

The first match on the stage has begun.

Two burly middle-aged men stepped onto the left side of the ring. One used his fists, and the other his legs. The blows were loud and clear, and each collision drew gasps from the audience.

Roy didn't open his eyes to see, but he could "feel"... the movement trajectories of those two people, the points of explosive power, the rhythm of their breathing—all of this was as clear as if it were imprinted in his mind.

This is the change brought about by thought.

It's not that my eyesight has improved, it's that my perception has become stronger.

It provided him with another extraordinary perception beyond his five senses.

Under this perception, the two people on the stage seemed as small and weak as babies to him, their movements slow and their strength negligible, offering him absolutely no surprises.

but....

...Fica, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying it very much.

Every now and then, he would quietly offer a few comments.

"That punch was quite powerful..."

"Wow...that was a good dodge..."

'

He acted like a typical arena spectator.

Seeing this, Roy did not interrupt his interest, but simply sat quietly to the side.

He wanted some peace and quiet, but the people around him didn't necessarily agree. From the moment he arrived, the other contestants kept glancing at him.

At such a young age, still a child, how did he manage to reach over 170 levels, and his clothes are strange, tattered and ragged.

The contestants waiting in the wings kept giving Roy rude looks, some even with a hint of disgust in their eyes.

His short white hair gleamed coldly under the bright lights. Luo Yi, who had been indifferent at first, changed his expression slightly after sensing those disgusting gazes.

He raised his right hand and clenched it gently.

A flash of silvery-white light appeared in his palm and then disappeared.

An invisible sense of oppression immediately filled the air around them, pressing them down.

The contestants who were eyeing Roy with hostility suddenly froze on the spot, large beads of sweat began to fall one by one, and their originally straight backs slowly began to bend.

They didn't know what was happening, but they suddenly felt a tightness in their chests, and the air became viscous. Some kind of invisible pressure made them begin to break down little by little, from their bodies to their minds.

Just when they were about to reach their breaking point...

"oh!"

A triumphant roar broke the silence; the first battle on the stage had ended, and the victor was a bald, muscular man.

He raised his arms and spun around on the ring, drawing cheers from the crowd.

The enthusiastic cheers also roused the athletes who were on the verge of collapse under the invisible pressure.

call!call!call!

Once they came to their senses, they immediately gasped for breath, as if trying to make up for the oxygen they had just lost.

It took them a while to regain their composure.

But... this time, they dared not look in Roy's direction again, and one by one they began to act like ostriches, hanging their heads.