A sharp, digital chime echoed through Yuzuki's Heavens Arena suite, drawing everyone's eyes to the computer terminal near the desk. Yuzuki, who was leaning casually against the wall with his hands shoved into his pockets, stepped forward and tapped the flashing green notification.
[MATCH CONFIRMED]
[Challenger: Yuzuki (Record: 10-0, 200th Floor)]
[Opponent: Floor Master Raizen Voss]
[Date: Scheduled in 4 days. Main Arena Arena.]
Yuzuki blinked, tilting his head as he stared at the screen. "Huh. Looks like one of them actually bit. Raizen Voss… anyone here know who this guy is?"
Kastro's eyes widened slightly in surprise, while Zushi looked completely blank.
Wing, however, paused mid-sip of his tea, his expression instantly sharpening behind his spectacles.
Beside him on the couch, Bisky stopped swinging her legs over the edge of the cushions. Her gaze drifted away from her fashion magazine, turning remarkably serious as she looked at the name glowing on the terminal.
"Raizen Voss…" Wing murmured, setting his porcelain cup down onto the saucer with a heavy click. "Yuzuki, you truly have a knack for pulling the most volatile thread from the pile. He rarely ever fights. In fact, he hasn't accepted a public challenge in nearly three years. He spends almost all of his time in deep meditation or training his personal disciples."
"He's an old-school monster," Bisky added, her voice dropping its usual high-pitched, cutesy tone and becoming uncharacteristically grim. "A purist. He doesn't care about the fame, the wealth, or the underworld politics that usually plague the upper floors. To get him to accept a blanket challenge from a newcomer… you must have seriously piqued his curiosity, brat."
Before Yuzuki could even respond, the television screen in the corner of the room abruptly cut its standard broadcast.
A dramatic, deep-toned voice boomed through the speakers as flashy, high-budget promotional graphics splashed across the screen.
"A CLASH OF GENERATIONS! THE UNBEATEN PRODIGY MEETS THE SILENT CATASTROPHE!"
The screen split, showing a stylized, dynamic render of Yuzuki. Complete with his signature dark sunglasses on the left, and a towering, stoic image of Raizen Voss clad in his pristine white martial arts coat on the right.
"Heavens Arena official management has just confirmed the most anticipated bout of the year! The enigmatic rookie Yuzuki, boasting a flawless ten-and-zero record, challenges the legendary, immovable Floor Master, Raizen Voss! Tickets go on sale worldwide immediately! Prepare yourselves for history!"
Within mere hours of the announcement, the entire city of Padokia was absolutely buzzing.
Down in the rain-slicked streets surrounding Heavens Arena, massive neon billboards flashed the promotional poster across every skyscraper. In local bars, high-end restaurants, and underground fighting dens, people were arguing passionately over the matchup.
"Did you see the announcement?! Raizen is finally stepping down from his tower!" a man in a crowded local diner slammed his fist on the counter. "The kid is good, but Raizen is a god in that arena. He's held his title for decades! He's going to teach that arrogant brat a lesson in humility!"
"I don't know, man," his friend countered, scrolling through an online fighting forum on his phone. "Yuzuki completely dismantled Kastro, and rumors say the mafia put a staggering one-billion-Jenny bounty on his head! You don't get a price tag like that unless you're an absolute demon. My money is on the rookie breaking the old man's streak!"
The hype was unprecedented. Scalpers were already reselling front-row tickets for millions of Jenny, and bookmakers across the world were frantically adjusting their betting odds as the entire global martial arts community hyper-focused on this single match.
Meanwhile, in a secluded penthouse suite on the upper levels of the city, the mood was far more analytical.
Chrollo Lucilfer sat quietly by a wide window, a tablet resting on his knee displaying the heavily marketed match poster. Behind him, Machi and Shalnark were casually observing the digital metrics of the fight's ticket sales, which were breaking historical arena records by the second.
"Raizen Voss," Chrollo spoke softly, a genuine glint of intellectual fascination in his dark eyes. "He is a highly dangerous individual. His approach to Nen is entirely defensive, experiential, and patient. He absorbs his opponent's rhythm, decoding their combat language until they have nothing left to hide." Chrollo leaned his chin on his hand, a small, intrigued smile gracing his lips. "I've often wondered how a practitioner of his specific philosophy would fare against a truly volatile variable. This fight is a fascinating study. I wonder how Yuzuki will tackle this."
"Do you think the kid is going to get peeled like an onion, Boss?" Shalnark asked with a cheerful grin, tossing a plastic dart accurately into the center of a target across the room. "Raizen's data sheet is essentially flawless."
"No," Chrollo replied smoothly, turning his gaze back toward the window. "Yuzuki will win. A man who seeks understanding can only succeed if his opponent has set boundaries to comprehend. Yuzuki's potential, much like our own, is an abyss. You cannot map an abyss."
---
Back in Yuzuki's room, the lights had been dimmed as Wing booted up an old archive projector. Detailed articles, ancient match footage, and classified underworld data sheets illuminated the blank wall, painting a staggering portrait of the man Yuzuki was scheduled to face.
Kastro and Zushi leaned forward, their expressions growing increasingly tense with every passing line of text. Yuzuki scanned the compiled data, his expression unreadable behind his dark lenses, confirming what his teachers had warned: the man was undeniably a titan.
Over 300 official victories.
Defeated multiple Nen masters.
Never lost a Heaven's Arena title defense.
Held Floor Master status for nearly twenty years.
"Look at this footage from fifteen years ago," Wing pointed to a grainy video of a younger Raizen. He was fighting a powerful, high-tier Emitter who was unleashing a relentless barrage of aura blasts. Raizen didn't flinch, and he didn't run. He moved with microscopic, terrifyingly patient shifts of his torso, dodging every single explosive projectile by mere millimeters. "His greatest recorded feat was defeating three high-level challengers consecutively, back-to-back, without receiving a single direct hit."
"And it gets worse for an opponent," Bisky crossed her arms, staring hard at Yuzuki. "Among high-level Nen users and professional Hunters, Raizen is known by a completely different, terrifying title: 'The Man Who Never Fights the Same Opponent Twice.' Why? Because once he fights you, his mind completely memorizes your aura flow, your muscle twitches, your psychological tells, and your pacing. If you ever fight him a second time, it's almost impossible to land a blow. He adapts perfectly. Many professional Hunters openly believe that if Raizen ever left Heaven's Arena and actively worked in the field, he would immediately rank among the most dangerous Nen users in the entire world."
Bisky stepped directly in front of Yuzuki, her small face tight with genuine concern. "Yuzuki. Cancel the match. Do not take this fight. You don't need this right now. You have the Ten Dons deploying the Shadow Beasts, you have assassins breathing down your neck, and you're dealing with a volatile situation with the Spiders. Fighting an absolute master who will dissect your entire Nen capability for the world to see is tactical suicide. Turn it down."
Yuzuki stared at the glowing projection of Raizen for a long, silent moment. Then, slowly, a wide, thrilled grin stretched across his face.
"No," Yuzuki said, his voice ringing with absolute, unshakeable certainty. "This fight is perfect for me."
Bisky frowned, her eyebrows knitting together fiercely. "Are you listening to a single word I'm saying, brat?!"
"Master, if I run away from strong opponents just because the timing is dangerous or inconvenient, I will never grow stronger," Yuzuki said, turning to look at her, his posture radiating a fierce, competitive hunger. "Old Fin, the Ten Dons, the entire underworld… if I want to break through the walls ahead of me, I need to test my limits against the absolute best. Raizen wants a conversation? Fine. I'll give him an earful. Who knows? Maybe this is the one fight that will finally force me to take off my sunglasses."
Sitting on the floor nearby, Kastro let out a sudden, embarrassed laugh, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed red. "Ah… custom dictates I should feel insulted by that, Yuzuki. You fought me, a Floor 200 regular, and you didn't even need to bare your eyes to completely break my style. I apologize for being too weak to force your hand."
Yuzuki immediately turned toward him, waving his hands frantically with a warm, genuine laugh. "No, no! Kastro, you aren't weak at all! Your raw physical power and your Tiger Bite Fist are incredible. You just got caught up in a bad strategy, that's all. Once we rebuild your foundation, you're going to be an absolute terror, I promise!"
Kastro smiled, his gratitude evident, feeling a massive weight lift from his shoulders.
Bisky watched Yuzuki's interaction, letting out a long, dramatic sigh as she realized there was absolutely no changing the boy's mind. His resolve was a solid block of diamond.
"Fine, fine! I guess I can't convince you," Bisky muttered, throwing her hands up in faux resignation. Then, she paused.
Slowly, she lowered her arms. Her innocent, doll-like expression vanished entirely, replaced by a terrifyingly twisted, sadistic smile that made Zushi and Kastro instinctively take a synchronized step back. A dark, crushing purple aura began to bleed from her pores, making the temperature in the luxury room drop to near-freezing.
"But if you're going to willingly walk into a meat grinder against a twenty-year veteran Floor Master," Bisky purred, her eyes gleaming with a manic, terrifying teacher's joy, "then I'm going to train you so incredibly hard over the next four days that you're going to wish you had turned the fight down. Get on the mat, brat. Your vacation is officially over."
---
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