The 225th-floor arena.
The roar of the crowd echoed through the venue like a tsunami, the sound waves nearly tearing off the dome.
Spotlights hit the center of the ring, illuminating every inch of the floor as bright as day.
Hisoka walked out from the competitor tunnel, his pace languid, a playing card dancing between his fingers like a butterfly.
He walked to the side of the ring, stopped, and looked around at the clamorous stands.
There was no expression on his face—no excitement, no joy, only a hollow calm.
The announcer's passionate voice boomed through the loudspeakers.
"Everyone, thanks for waiting! This match—Mr. Hisoka versus Mr. Uvogin!"
"Mr. Hisoka, with a record of three wins in three matches on the 200th floor, all by one-hit KO! He is a terrifying force of absolute strength!"
"And his opponent, Mr. Uvogin—a super rookie who fought his way up from the first floor! Undefeated all the way, never having tasted defeat! Today is his first match on the 200th floor!"
"Will the veteran powerhouse continue to crush his opponents, or will the new dark horse make a stunning debut? Let us wait and see!"
From the other end of the tunnel, Uvogin walked out.
Wearing a white robe with silver hair, he had a handsome face and sharp eyes.
His footsteps were steady as he walked, his breathing long and even.
The moment he stepped onto the ring, he looked at Hisoka opposite him, a confident curve forming at the corner of his mouth.
"Are you my first opponent on the 200th floor?"
Uvogin's voice was clear.
"I will go all out, and I hope you will not disappoint me."
Hisoka's originally hollow eyes flickered slightly.
He looked at Uvogin as if examining a novel toy.
"Hmm-hmm~"
He chuckled, and the playing card between his fingers stopped spinning.
The referee walked to the center of the ring and quickly read the rules.
"...Do both sides understand?"
Hisoka nodded nonchalantly.
Uvogin clasped his hands in a salute.
"Understood."
The referee retreated to the edge of the ring, raised his right hand, and then swung it down sharply—
"Match start!!!"
The moment the shout fell, Uvogin moved!
He pushed off with his right foot, the ring floor emitting a muffled thud, and he shot out like an arrow from a bow!
The five-meter distance was covered in an instant, his right fist like a cannonball, blasting straight at Hisoka's face!
This punch was extremely fast, the wind from the fist tearing through the air with a sharp whistle!
Hisoka didn't even Move his feet.
He just tilted his head slightly, the edge of the fist grazing his cheek without even touching a strand of hair.
Uvogin's pupils shrank slightly, and his left fist followed immediately, attacking Hisoka's ribs!
At the same time, his right leg whipped out, sweeping at Hisoka's lower body!
Three-way attack, sealing off all angles of evasion!
Hisoka moved—not backward, but stepping forward half a step, his body spinning lightly like a willow catkin, passing through the gaps in the punches and kicks by a hair's breadth.
All of Uvogin's attacks missed!
"Oh, oh, oh—!"
The announcer roared.
"A fierce assault from contestant Uvogin! But contestant Hisoka has avoided everything! He didn't even touch a corner of his clothes!"
Uvogin's expression darkened.
He retreated half a step, adjusted his breathing, and his gaze became serious.
"Not bad speed."
Hisoka finally spoke, his voice frivolous.
"But it's too straightforward; I can see right through it~"
"Cut the crap!"
Uvogin shouted and charged forward again!
This time, his offensive changed.
His fists no longer pursued absolute power and speed, but poured down like a rainstorm.
The shadows of his fists were layered, weaving truth and falsehood, with every angle of the punch tricky and strange!
Tiger-Fang Style Fist—this was the Martial Dao he had cultivated for many years, known for its agility and ferocity, mimicking a tiger pouncing on its prey.
Pop, pop, pop, pop!
The wind of his fists exploded, dense as firecrackers!
Hisoka was still dodging.
But his movements were no longer so casual—he began to Move his feet in small increments, his body swaying, turning, and leaning back with minimal amplitude.
Every one of Uvogin's punches missed by a hair, never truly making contact.
On the ring, one attacking and one defending formed an eerie balance.
Fine sweat seeped from Uvogin's forehead.
He had been attacking with all his might for a full two minutes, yet he hadn't landed a single effective hit.
The red-haired man opposite him was like a ghost, always able to dodge at the very last moment.
And Hisoka's eyes were gradually brightening.
The emptiness was replaced by interest.
While dodging, he carefully observed every one of Uvogin's movements—the way he exerted force, the shift in his center of gravity, the rhythm of his breathing, the changes in his eyes.
"Hmm..."
Hisoka hummed softly.
"Your foundation is very solid. Your footwork, stance, and force-exertion techniques are all well-polished."
He raised his hand and nonchalantly blocked one of Uvogin's straight punches with his palm.
"It's a pity."
Uvogin felt as if his fist had hit a rubber wall, the force completely absorbed.
Alarm bells rang in his heart, and he immediately pulled back.
But Hisoka did not pursue, just stood there, tilting his head as he looked at him.
"What's a pity?"
Uvogin stabilized his breathing and asked in a deep voice.
"It's a pity you don't know 'Nen' yet."
Hisoka smiled.
"Otherwise, you should have been able to hit me by now."
"Nen?"
Uvogin frowned.
"What is that?"
Hisoka did not answer.
He just raised his right hand and beckoned to Uvogin with his finger.
"Continue. Let me see where your limits are."
Uvogin took a deep breath.
He could feel the contempt in the other's words, but more than that—expectation?
This weird man seemed to be waiting for something.
"Don't underestimate me!"
He roared and charged forward again!
But this time, his movements changed.
It was no longer a continuous fast attack, but like a tiger crouching on the ground, ready to spring.
Three steps, two steps, one step—
Uvogin suddenly squatted down, his hands shaped into claws in front of him, his whole body's muscles taut like a bow!
"Tiger-Bite Fist!!!"
The roar was like thunder!
He was like a real tiger pouncing on its prey, his claws tearing through the air, bringing out visible currents of air!
The speed and power of this strike far exceeded all previous attacks, and the ring floor showed a crack the moment he pushed off!
The claws went straight for Hisoka's waist and abdomen vitals—one of the most fragile parts of the human body; once hit, the internal organs would be damaged!
Hisoka's eyes lit up completely.
"Now that's more like it~"
He didn't retreat but advanced, his body sliding sideways half a step like a ghost, just avoiding the edge of the claws.
At the same time, he raised his right hand, fingers splayed, and gently pressed onto Uvogin's wrist—not to block, but to guide.
Uvogin felt a strange force pulling his arm, his originally straight attack trajectory forcibly diverted!
He was terrified and wanted to pull back his strength, but it was already too late!
Inertia caused him to lunge forward, leaving his center wide open!
Hisoka's face leaned close to his ear and said softly.
"Good power. But a Move that can't hit anyone is meaningless~"
"I'll give you a small gift."
Hisoka's left fist moved.
It wasn't very fast, even somewhat casual.
Wrapped around the fist was a faint, almost invisible Qi—that was "Nen", the simplest form of "Ten".
The fist imprinted on Uvogin's left cheek.
Bang!
In the muffled sound, Uvogin's cheek caved in, the sound of teeth shattering clearly audible.
He flew out sideways, spun twice in the air, and then slammed heavily onto the ground below the ring.
Uvogin lay on the ground unconscious, motionless.
Blood gushed from the corner of his mouth, staining his white robe a glaring red.
The referee rushed over and began the count.
"One! Two! Three!..."
In the stands, the audience held their breath.
"Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten—!!!"
The referee raised his right hand high.
"The winner—contestant Hisoka!!!"
Earth-shaking cheers erupted again!
Hisoka calmly retracted his fist and shook his hand, as if he had just done something trivial.
He walked to Uvogin's side, crouched down, and looked at the face that had lost consciousness and was swollen out of shape.
"Hmm-hmm..."
He whispered to himself.
"I hope you can withstand this 'baptism'."
"I will wait for you~ Patiently... waiting for you to ripen to the sweetest moment..."
"Then, with my own hands... pluck you off~"
He stood up, no longer glancing at the ring, and turned to walk toward the competitor tunnel.
The announcer was still excitedly reviewing that last punch, and the audience was cheering his name.
But Hisoka's footsteps did not pause in the slightest, and the expression on his face returned to that hollow calm.
As if the interest and joy of that moment just now were merely an illusion.