"Congratulations to contestant Lan Fei, who once again secured victory with a single, clean strike! He has now officially defeated his opponent on the 190th floor and advanced to the 200th floor!"
Having already earned over two hundred million Jenny from the previous matches—thanks to bonus rewards given for spectacular wins and rapid ascension from the 50th to the 190th floor—Lan Fei stepped into the 190th-floor ring without hesitation. As expected, the battle ended with just one blow, the same dominant display that had marked all his matches so far.
His fight, broadcast live on VCR monitors across every floor of Heaven's Arena, immediately drew frenzied attention. Viewership ratings spiked from the 50th floor up to the 200th. The host on commentary was visibly ecstatic, fawning over Lan Fei's commanding presence, his confidence, and his calm yet overwhelming power. Though meant to be impartial, the host was practically squealing like a fangirl over the "domineering little devil."
"Bravo!!"
"He's made it to the 200th floor in a single climb!"
In the 50th-floor lobby, Zooci watched the broadcast wide-eyed as Lan Fei's finishing strike played in slow motion across the giant screen. Though Lan Fei had completely overwhelmed him in their match, Zooci didn't feel resentment. Instead, his admiration had only grown. Lan Fei had become a source of obsession, someone to idolize and surpass.
Even if the gap between them was still immense, the desire to catch up burned inside him. He wanted to challenge Lan Fei again—this time as an equal.
It was just a shame that Zooci hadn't yet been granted Nen training by Wing and thus couldn't advance past the 50th floor. For now, he remained grounded while others soared.
Perhaps soon, Gon and Killua—who were expected to visit Heaven's Arena after obtaining their Hunter Licenses—might appear, and Zooci hoped to cross paths with them.
"Zooci!!!"
"You must do your best. That kid Lan Fei… I wouldn't be surprised if he already had the strength to reach the 251st floor."
Wing, watching from behind with arms folded, pushed up his glasses. His sharp Nen sense had picked up on Lan Fei's aura through the screen. It was refined, compressed, and disciplined—a level far beyond what one would expect from a boy his age. To Wing, Lan Fei was already on par with seasoned fighters who had trained their Nen for years.
"Acting Master, Lan Fei is too amazing…"
"I thought I was already a genius for reaching the 50th floor at my age. But compared to Lan Fei, I'm just a frog in a well."
Zooci clenched his fists tightly. He had already set Lan Fei as a goal, a rival he must one day defeat—even if it took his whole life.
———
"Mr. Lan Fei, please walk safely!"
At the elevator on the 190th floor, the neatly dressed female receptionist bowed with a polite smile as Lan Fei entered the elevator.
Ding!
The elevator doors closed with a metallic thud.
"The 200th floor…"
Lan Fei looked up at the electronic number display. The glowing digits blinked as they rose—191, 192, 193… until finally, the display froze at 200.
Ding!
The doors opened again, revealing the slightly darker and far more serious hallway of the 200th floor. The atmosphere was completely different now—less bustling, more quiet, yet oppressive, like a silent battlefield.
"Mr. Lan Fei, please head to the check-in counter before midnight tonight to complete your 200th-floor entry procedures."
A mature receptionist with a perfect smile and elegant bearing approached him as he turned a corner.
"Got it," Lan Fei responded coolly, not slowing his steps.
"Oh, and just a reminder: there are currently 150 other fighters active on the 200th floor."
"From this floor onward, combatants are allowed to use personal weapons, and monetary rewards are no longer granted for victories. Here, the only prize is glory."
Lan Fei acknowledged the explanation with a nod. He already knew—this was no longer about money. The 200th floor and above existed for fighters who sought prestige, titles, and true strength.
Lan Fei soon arrived at the check-in counter.
"Welcome, contestant. Would you like to register for battle immediately?"
The receptionist behind the counter was a sharp-eyed woman with short green hair and a composed air.
"Here on the 200th floor, matches operate under the declaration system. Upon registering, you are granted a 90-day countdown. You can fight any day during this period. If you participate in a match, the countdown resets."
"Failing to engage in combat within 90 days results in disqualification, and all combat records will be erased."
"In order to pass the 200th floor, you must win 10 matches. However, if you accumulate four losses before that, you will also be disqualified."
"Upon reaching 10 wins, you qualify to challenge the elite 'Floor Masters'—also known as the Landlords—from the 230th to the 250th floor."
"Defeating a Landlord allows you to claim their floor and title. The ultimate goal for many fighters here is to become the Landlord of the 250th floor—the highest and most respected title in all of Heaven's Arena."
"These are the standard rules of the upper floors."
Lan Fei nodded after absorbing the details. "So you need 10 wins first. Then you can go challenge the Floor Masters."
"And I want to challenge the strongest—the Landlord of the 250th floor."
He cracked a small grin. "Once I win, I'll become the strongest Landlord in Sky Arena."
"Understood. Please fill in your information on this form."
The green-haired receptionist passed him a registration form, which Lan Fei quickly completed.
"Your room assignment is 2202. You'll be notified of your first scheduled match shortly."
She handed him a key marked with the number 2202.
"Thanks."
Just as he turned to leave, Lan Fei noticed a few peculiar fighters waiting in line behind him—each of them exuding a dangerous aura.
"Jie jie… so you're the little brat who made it to the 200th floor in just one night?"
A fighter wrapped entirely in crimson robes—only his eerie eyes visible—gave a dry chuckle.
"Hope we meet in the ring, little brother…"
Lan Fei didn't even look at them. Their provocation meant nothing to him.
Back in Room 2202, Lan Fei threw his bag down and flipped on the monitor embedded in the wall. A red notification appeared at the top:
Match Scheduled: March 1st, 2:00 AM.
"That's tonight…"
There were still three hours left until the match. Nothing to do in the meantime. No need for training or preparation. Lan Fei simply lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.
Three hours passed.
A soft chime sounded through the room, followed by the automated system broadcast:
"Contestant 2008, your match is about to begin. Please proceed to the designated waiting area."