HxH: I Will Be Supreme

The Dentora Region was still some distance from Heaven's Arena.

The Arena stood in the northeast of Padokea Republic, while Kukuroo Mountain, home of the Zoldyck family, lay in the northwest, opposite directions in the region.

After leaving the station, Oboro boarded a bus to his destination.

The vehicle was packed without a single empty seat. Most passengers had the bearing of fighters, some muscular giants, others wiry as monkeys, but all with sharp, calculating eyes.

A diverse crowd, united in their pursuit of money and fame.

They came from across the world, drawn by Heaven's Arena's promise of opportunity and advancement.

Heaven's Arena stood as the fourth tallest building in the world, a holy ground for fighters and martial artists. It drew over a billion viewers annually, with more than four thousand new challengers registering each day. The betting industry surrounding the Arena's matches had grown into a massive economic force.

Then there was the underground fighting circuit...

The Arena had become a tourist destination in its own right. Even on non-match days, visitors flocked to the tower.

The Arena's structure was straightforward, winners on the first floor earned 152 jenny, barely enough for a drink. Prizes increased with each floor conquered. Around the 50th floor, victories brought 50,000 jenny. Reaching the 100th floor earned contestants a private room.

Beyond the 150th floor, prizes exceeded 10 million jenny, with 200 million for the 190th floor. Above floor 200, fights became about reputation rather than money.

Though the monetary rewards plateaued, reaching the 200s earned luxury accommodations and the right to carry weapons. It also required signing special waivers, matches became death matches, with real mortal risk.

Killua had first come here at age six. In two months he'd reached the 150th floor, eventually stopping at 200 after two years.

The journey inevitably involved setbacks and defeats, forcing climbers to start again from lower floors.

The 150th to 200th floors posed the greatest challenge.

Above floor 200, though prize money vanished, Oboro's plan was simple, he could bet on his own victories. Money would make money, potentially astronomical amounts.

But this strategy had a time limit. As he won more matches, the odds would shrink. Eventually, his victories would become foregone conclusions, limiting potential gains.

"We'll need to contact major local casinos... ideally become the house ourselves..." Oboro mused, watching scenery pass outside his window.

"Brother... here for sightseeing?"

Beside him sat a muscular bald man with a thick golden beard, wearing a white training uniform.

Every inch the stereotypical fighter.

The man grinned enthusiastically.

"Mm."

Oboro smiled and nodded.

In both build and dress, Oboro looked far less professional, just another ordinary person.

"Name's Charles, and I'm the rising star who'll soon dominate Heaven's Arena... Want an autograph? Might be worth something someday..." The big man flashed white teeth with complete confidence.

"No, thank you."

Oboro declined politely.

"You sure? I'm really something... You're missing a great opportunity. You'll regret it when I'm famous~"

"..."

A soft sigh escaped.

The journey would be long, and judging by the bald man's fiery attitude and chatty nature, he'd likely keep pestering unless humored.

"Thank you for the offer."

Seeing Charles already pulling out a notebook and pen, Oboro relented.

Charles' eyes lit up as he quickly scrawled his signature and tore out the page.

He gave Oboro a thumbs up. "You've got good taste!"

"..."

So much for a peaceful trip.

Charles talked non-stop, clearly familiar with Heaven's Arena.

He'd reached the 40th floor before being eliminated. According to Charles, he'd been too green then. Now he returned prepared, confident of reaching floor 200.

He'd spent five years training, visiting various martial arts schools before finally feeling ready to prove himself again.

Oboro observed the enthusiastic rookie without mockery.

Instead, he showed proper respect, respect for the dream.

Night had fallen when they finally reached the Arena's city.

The bustling metropolis energy hit immediately after stepping off the bus.

Skyscrapers and neon lights filled the skyline... This place dwarfed Glam Gas Land in development. Its economy, population, and modernization existed on another level entirely.

"Charles."

Oboro called to the bald man as they disembarked.

"I can show you to the Arena..." Charles assumed Oboro needed directions.

"Did you bring money?"

Instead, Oboro extended his hand.

"Huh?"

Charles froze.

"Quickly..." Oboro beckoned with his fingers, meaning clear.

The bald man wordlessly retrieved his wallet and handed over a stack of bills.

"Thanks."

Oboro took it calmly and walked away.

Charles stood dazed, scratching his head in confusion...

He didn't realize he'd been influenced by Nen.

With the extra funds, Oboro could now afford a hotel for the night before registering at the Arena tomorrow.

Without Charles' unwitting "help," he'd have been sleeping rough. His finances were that tight.

The bald man's chatter had proven worth enduring.

He found a hotel near the Arena and settled in, treating himself to a proper meal and new clothes, black leather shoes, black suit pants, white shirt, and tie.

Standard business attire... but it gave him a more mature, professional air.

He shopped casually, aided by an eager saleswoman. The clothes were designer brands, but he could afford them now.

Having lived two lives, his tastes ran more conservative than youthful.

A man should own at least one proper suit.

Leaving the mall, hands in pockets and sunglasses on, Oboro gazed up at the majestic tower piercing the night sky. Heaven's Arena's peak seemed to touch the moon itself.

The landmark dominated a vast plaza.

The Arena's district bustled with commerce of all kinds.

While tourists and locals filled the streets, fighters were easy to spot. Even in civilian clothes, their auras set them apart.

Passing women cast both subtle and obvious glances his way, the suit had been a good investment.

"It looked like a pillar of light from far away, but up close the scale is overwhelming..."

Oboro mused appreciatively, briefly indulging his tourist mindset.

Anime hadn't captured its true imposing presence.

Smiling slightly, he returned to his hotel.

The next morning, he checked out and joined the crowds flowing into Heaven's Arena.

The entrance hall assaulted visitors with noise and heat.

Masses of people queued at each window.

Staff directed traffic and provided instructions.

Screens displayed recent notable matches and profiled rising stars making names for themselves.

After stating his purpose, Oboro was directed to a relatively quiet corridor.

Stairs led to second-floor registration windows.

Though less crowded, hundreds still waited in line...

"It's really hot."

Someone sighed.

"Brother, think you're in the wrong place? Looking like that... You should be in some office... This jungle ain't for you... We're all predators here, and fresh meat like you won't last."

A finger jabbed Oboro's shoulder as a voice spoke behind him.

Oboro turned slowly to face a black man over two meters tall, wearing boxing gloves and a fierce expression.

"Just here to earn some extra money..." Oboro smiled.

Extra money?

The black man's expression darkened, taking it as mockery. "Move to the back of the line."

But suddenly his eyes bulged. He clutched his stomach and collapsed to his knees.

Couldn't breathe.

Drool leaked from his mouth...

He lost consciousness within seconds.

"Someone's fainted!"

"We need help here!"

Voices called from the back of the line.

Staff quickly arrived to carry the man away.

Oboro continued forward, hands in pockets.

The person who filled the empty space behind him now watched warily.

He'd witnessed the exchange between the "office worker" and the boxer.

Instinct told him the suited man had somehow attacked... but he'd seen nothing. The man's back had been turned the whole time...

"He looks like some company employee... but he's dangerous."

The thought made him swallow hard and step back, maintaining distance from Oboro.

Soon enough, Oboro reached the window, registered, and completed his paperwork.

Following his assigned number, he found his preparation room and opened the door.

His first Arena match awaited.