"President Netero, thank you for sending me here."
After disembarking from the airship, Lan Fei waved toward President Netero, who stood calmly at the hatch with his hands behind his back, his expression unreadable.
"Little devil, I wish you good luck!!!"
Netero nodded, smiling faintly.
Clang!!
The hatch closed, and the airship slowly rose into the sky, disappearing beyond the clouds, taking with it the lingering pressure of the world's most powerful Nen user.
"So this is the Sky Arena…"
Lan Fei tilted his head back, gazing up at the colossal skyscraper before him.
"Tsk tsk, 251 floors… it really lives up to its name."
He took a step forward into the bustling interior, where the air pulsed with adrenaline, excitement, and the bloodlust of countless fighters.
"The atmosphere here… It's like Heaven's Arena is alive. No wonder it's called the battlefield for up-and-coming Hunters."
Lan Fei walked briskly through the crowd, heading toward the registration area.
"Hmm, that line's long. It's more packed than the first phase of the Hunter Exam."
He glanced at the queue. Though he had the strength to cut to the front, Lan Fei chose to quietly join the line behind a hulking martial artist.
Despite his confidence, Lan Fei wasn't arrogant enough to disrespect basic decorum.
"Hunter Exam?"
A voice behind him spoke.
"This ain't the same, kid. No swamp monsters or trick questions here. Just beat the hell outta your opponent and move up. Simple as that."
Lan Fei turned to see a bald man in a sleeveless gi with thick veins on his forearms. His eyes were condescending, though not malicious.
"You look about twelve. What're you doing here? This place eats kids alive."
"I'm thirteen," Lan Fei replied with a grin. "I'm just here to make some money to send home to Aunt Mito."
The mention of Mito stirred memories—of Whale Island, of Gon, and of simpler days.
"Money?" The bald man snorted. "Kid, don't be stupid. These fights aren't schoolyard brawls. You'll be leaving in a stretcher if you're lucky."
"Heh. It's not always the big guys who win, Uncle Bald. You might end up on your back if you fight me."
Lan Fei gave a mock salute, drawing a few chuckles from nearby onlookers.
"Hah! Bold words from a brat. I've already reached the 200th floor. Let's see how long your bravado lasts."
The man waved him off.
After about thirty minutes, Lan Fei finally reached the front of the queue.
"Welcome to Heaven's Arena!" said a receptionist in a violet uniform, seated behind a glass window. Her appearance was pleasant, though not quite to Lan Fei's taste.
"Please fill out this form with your personal information."
Lan Fei took the clipboard and quickly scribbled in his details.
"Lan Fei," the receptionist confirmed, entering the data into the system. "Here's your number plate—2008. This will be used to call you for matches."
"Alright. You're all set. Proceed to the first-floor arena."
"Thanks, beautiful sister!" Lan Fei beamed.
The receptionist blinked, caught off guard, then chuckled softly. "First time anyone's called me that. What a funny kid."
Lan Fei stepped into the first-floor corridor and was immediately engulfed by cheers and roars.
"Come on!!!"
"Smash him!!"
"Watch that left hook!!!"
Sixteen rings filled the ground floor, each with roaring audiences and fighters clashing in vicious matches.
"So this is what Gon, Killua, and Zushi experienced… except, I'm starting from a different level entirely."
Lan Fei sat near the back of the seating area, arms folded, observing the fighters. While most contestants relied on brute strength and brawler techniques, only a few displayed proper Nen mastery.
Bzzzt.
A broadcast voice rang out across the arena.
"Contestants No. 2000 and No. 2008, please proceed to Ring E."
"That's me."
Lan Fei stood up, flashing a confident grin. "Let's start the climb. Floor 251, I'm coming for you. Time to earn hundreds of millions for Aunt Mito Huahua."
As he walked to the E Ring, snickers and jeers followed.
"Yo, that kid's really fighting?"
"He's gonna get flattened!"
"Someone call his mom before it's too late!"
Lan Fei ignored them. He had no interest in audience banter. What mattered was performance.
Stepping into the ring, he finally laid eyes on his opponent—a massive man with a beer belly, towering over Lan Fei with bulging arms and a nasty grin.
The man cracked his knuckles. "You sure you're in the right place, little man?"
"In the first-floor matches, participants are judged on power and performance. Time limit: three minutes. Begin!"
The referee, a stoic figure with Nen perception, raised a hand and then quickly dropped it to signal the start.
"Kid, I'll give you a chance to forfeit before I—"
BAM!
Before the man could finish, Lan Fei vanished from view.
A blink later, he reappeared in front of the man and drove a fist straight into his gut with shocking speed and precision.
BOOM!!
The man's body hurled backwards like a wrecking ball, smashing through the arena wall and embedding itself into the stands. The crowd gasped as debris fell and dust filled the air.
Lan Fei didn't even glance back. He casually brushed the dust off his sleeves, turned around, and walked off the stage.
"W-What…?"
"One punch?"
"No chanting, no flash—just pure destruction…"
Cheers exploded through the arena.
"2008! 2008!"
Even the skeptical crowd was now cheering.
"Contestant No. 2008, immediate promotion to the 50th floor," the stunned referee announced. He entered Lan Fei's data into the system, printed the result, and handed the confirmation ticket to the boy as he passed.
Lan Fei accepted it with a grin.
"Sky Arena, huh? This might actually be fun."