HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

[Congratulations, Host. Compatibility with Satoru Gojo has increased by 5%.]

"I wasn't even intentionally trying to raise it…" Cyr muttered with a hint of resignation upon hearing the system's notification.

Well, it's still a good thing, after all.

He had originally guessed that his strength was equivalent to four or five of Sukuna's fingers, but after realizing that the power of his abilities was directly tied to compatibility, his theory was completely overturned.

Since then, he'd stopped bothering to estimate his own strength.

---

"Sir!" Marlo came bounding down from the arena, his face brimming with excitement as he approached the white-haired youth. "Did you just help me earlier?"

Although it was more like I used you for an experiment, Cyr thought, the results could technically be considered "helping."

After all, buff cards wouldn't produce any negative effects.

Truly, I'm such a kind and generous person.

"Of course. The effect lasts for 24 hours, so make the most of it while you can," Cyr said without a hint of guilt, even reaching out to pat Maro on the shoulder with the casual air of a superior indulging a subordinate.

"Yes, sir! I'll work twice as hard!" Marlo replied, his face flushing with determination.

---

"Would contestants Cyr and Tahan please proceed to the 199th Floor Arena B?" The announcement echoed through the air.

Cyr glanced up toward the speakers and began walking toward the elevator.

"Sir!" Maro quickly followed behind him.

He was confident that Cyr would finish this match long before his own competition was announced.

---

The audience on the higher floors was significantly larger than those on the lower levels. Naturally, ticket prices and betting odds were also much higher.

"Once I finish this match, I'll be on the 200th floor…" Cyr murmured as he lazily pushed his hair aside, looking up at the ring.

His bangs had already grown to the length of his eyebrows. If they got any longer, they'd start blocking his vision—a hassle.

"You've got this, sir!" Marlo's tone was filled with unwavering faith.

Cyr didn't react to the enthusiasm, casually waving his hand as he stepped toward the arena. Halfway there, he suddenly stopped and turned his head to address Maro.

"Oh, by the way, I also gave you a temporary ability to conjure a mode of transportation."

He resumed walking without looking back, tossing out a final remark as he went:

"By the end of today, make sure you conjure something that satisfies me."

What?! Cyr had granted him the ability to conjure vehicles? But how was he supposed to use it? And what kind of transportation would Cyr find satisfactory?

Maro panicked internally as he began brainstorming ways to manifest something impressive.

---

Cyr stood on the arena stage, not even sparing his opponent a glance. The moment the match began, as the announcer's voice declared the start of the fight, his opponent was sent flying out of the ring.

No one had seen what Cyr had done.

They could only stare at the battered man hanging on the edge of consciousness, struggling to even move.

The guy had clearly been hit by a Black Flash.

"Looks like you're pretty lucky," Cyr said nonchalantly, stepping down from the arena without waiting for the announcer to declare his victory.

It wasn't until Cyr left the stage that the announcer snapped out of his daze.

"Cyr is the winner! Let's all congratulate him on advancing to the 200th floor!"

"I'm sure it won't be long before we see him competing at even higher levels!" The host quickly recovered his composure, summoning the spirit of a diligent employee to salvage the situation.

But… wasn't there something he'd forgotten?

What was it?

The host watched the boy's retreating figure, wracking his brain.

He'd already qualified for the 200th floor…

—Wait! That's it! The 200th-floor certificate! He hadn't handed it over yet!

"Cyr! Please wait! This is your certificate to the 200th floor!" The host hurriedly ran down from the stage, chasing after him and pressing the certificate into the boy's hand.

"Ah, I almost forgot," Cyr said as he glanced at the certificate, nodding slightly.

"For my matches on the 200th floor, the betting odds will definitely be high. Don't forget to place your bets on me." He said this casually while heading toward the elevator, addressing Maro without looking back.

This, after all, was the reason Cyr had stuck to using only hand-to-hand combat in his earlier matches.

Apart from having fun experimenting with Black Flash, he'd been deliberately hiding his true strength to appear as an average contestant. Letting everyone believe he was a mere brawler would make the perfect setup to rake in massive profits later.

All this effort just to save up for that ridiculously overpriced collectible. He really was going all out.

"Understood, sir," Marlo replied with utmost seriousness.

If Cyr needed money this badly, perhaps Maro should think of ways to earn more for him?

Maro's family did have several illegal ventures, and those operations held significant sums of liquid cash.

With Cyr's power, he could easily take over those funds.

Yes, that's it. He'd find a way to lead Cyr there and let him use the money as he pleased!

Maro stayed behind as the elevator doors closed, deep in thought about how to provide Cyr with more financial resources. Once the elevator was out of sight, he turned and left.

Without a certificate, he wouldn't be able to access the 200th-floor contestant area. He had to keep pushing himself harder.

---

The 200th floor was noticeably quieter compared to the lower levels.

The moment Cyr stepped out of the elevator, several gazes fell upon him.

Should he pretend to be nervous or scared? But then again, acting for the benefit of the contestants seemed pointless. The odds were adjusted by the Heaven's Arena officials, not these fighters.

In other words, none of these contestants were of any use to him.

If they weren't useful, then there was no need to waste time interacting with them.

---

At one end of the 200th-floor corridor was a registration booth. Every contestant who reached this level had to go there to register.

On the sole corridor leading forward, small groups of people gathered.

Some leaned casually against the walls with their arms crossed, while others sat cross-legged on the floor.

What they all had in common, however, was the predatory glint in their eyes as they stared at Cyr like hunters sizing up prey.

And the unmistakable aura of nen pressure radiating off them, as if they intended to give the newcomer a show of force.

The Heaven's Arena wasn't just a place for martial artists to hone their skills or make money. For those strong enough, it was also a hunting ground.

Above the 200th floor, this atmosphere became even more pronounced.

Yet, none of them made the first move. They just silently observed the newly arrived boy.

"A bunch of posturing clowns." Cyr walked past one person after another, tossing out the comment with a tone of indifference.

Even so, the people around him showed no reaction at all—they didn't even seem angry.

Were they ninjas or something? How could they suppress their tempers this well?

And usually, those who were that good at controlling themselves weren't exactly decent people.

While silently mocking them in his mind, Cyr arrived at the registration desk.

"I'm here to register."

"Alright, please fill out this form..."

The woman behind the desk, seated with a bright smile, handed him the paperwork.

It seemed like she didn't get many newcomers who were willing to talk because the moment Cyr appeared, she started chatting non-stop, as if she had a backlog of words to release.

"The rules here require contestants to participate in at least one match every 90 days. If you don't compete within that time, you'll lose your qualification and be dropped back below the 200th floor. You'd have to fight your way back up again."

"Oh, and if you lose four consecutive matches, you'll also be demoted."

"But if you win ten matches in a row on the 200th floor, you'll earn the right to challenge the floor masters!"

"From the 230th to the 250th floor, there's one floor master per level. If you manage to become a floor master, you'll qualify for the biennial martial arts tournament hosted by the Heaven's Arena. The winner gets to move into the 251st floor—the luxurious top-tier penthouse and a symbol of ultimate status!"

She rattled off the rules enthusiastically, her entire demeanor radiating pride at being an employee of the Heaven's Arena.

Cyr glanced at her, and only one thought crossed his mind: "A textbook corporate drone perfectly conditioned by her job."

"Got it. Schedule a match for me as soon as possible," Cyr replied, handing back the completed form.

Without looking back, he added, "I imagine the people behind me are already getting impatient."

Then he stood and walked away.

°°°

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