HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

The grin on Bowie's face vanished, replaced by a serious expression.

Suddenly, his enormous body moved with an agility that seemed impossible for someone his size.

'So his size isn't a burden after all. He can move.' Cyr thought, though to him, Bowie's movements looked like a rapidly advancing mountain of flesh.

When Cyr landed a punch on Bowie's stomach, the force was immediately rebounded, forcing him to take a step back. A stray thought popped into his head—

'This guy's belly could totally be used as a trampoline.'

Cyr tilted his head to dodge Bowie's nen-coated fist and retreated lightly with nimble steps. Sometimes he would sidestep, other times shift his head or shoulders, avoiding all of Bowie's attacks with ease.

"Damn it," Bowie growled, pulling back his fist and glancing at the audience.

"Catch!" A man in the crowd grinned and tossed a knife onto the stage.

"The audience has thrown Bowie a weapon!" the announcer immediately explained to the crowd.

"Of course, as everyone knows, this is not against the rules! The Heaven's Arena allows the use of weapons—any kind of weapon is permitted!"

"Even if a weapon is thrown in mid-match by the audience, it's perfectly legal, as long as no third person steps onto the stage!" she added, educating the spectators about the tournament's rules.

Cyr remained still, showing no intention of stopping Bowie from picking up the weapon.

Once Bowie grasped the knife, he coated it with nen, making the already sharp blade gleam even more dangerously. As he swung it, flashes of cold silver light filled the arena.

Cyr, with his graceful movements, seemed as though he was performing a dance. Occasionally, he flicked his fingers, sending out invisible slashes that no one could see.

The arena floor was soon marked with deep diagonal gashes, evidence of Cyr's precise and deadly strikes.

'Is deflection also part of his ability?' Cyr pondered as he dodged an incoming slash.

The icy blade reflected half of his face for a fleeting moment—eyebrows raised and his pale blue eyes carrying a cool indifference.

'According to the rules of the Hunter world, no matter how strong someone's defense is, there must be an upper limit, right?'

'So where exactly is the limit of his defense?'

With that thought, Cyr leapt into the air, landing on the tip of Bowie's swinging knife, crouching there with perfect balance.

"Take this seriously, rookie!" Bowie roared in frustration as he swung his long blade with force, flinging the white-haired youth into the air.

"Your ability is kinda like a turtle shell," Cyr remarked as he spun midair, landing gracefully and effortlessly. He even found the time to mock Bowie further, ensuring his taunts hit their mark.

The arena was littered with cracks—damage caused by Cyr's attacks being deflected off Bowie's body and ricocheting elsewhere.

"If this is all your ability can do, it's way too boring." Cyr shook his head, delivering a verbal jab that immediately shattered Bowie's composure.

"You think my ability is boring?!"

"This is a super-strong ability!

"You little punk!" Bowie, now completely enraged, moved faster than ever. His massive frame charged across the cracked arena as he relentlessly swung his blade at Cyr.

"Come on, put some effort into it. Didn't eat breakfast or something?" Cyr's mocking tone became even more dismissive as he casually tucked both hands into his pockets.

"Come on, bro. You're so close to hitting me."

"I'll play with you as long as it takes for you to land a hit," Cyr added cheerfully, his voice light and full of sunshine as he leapt several meters into the air with a gentle push from his toes. His taunts, however, carried the full weight of provocation.

"Hill… Hill… he's amazing at trash-talking," the announcer stammered, struggling to keep up with the unusual fight.

Never before had she narrated a match like this. Most fighters were silent and stoic, rarely uttering a word, let alone this many biting insults.

"Die already!" Bowie bellowed, gripping his blade as he jumped high into the air after Cyr.

Despite his massive size, with nen reinforcement, Bowie was capable of leaping several, even dozens of meters into the air. Reaching Cyr's height, his expression twisted into a smug grin as he swung his blade downward.

"You're dead, rookie!"

"Bye-bye." Cyr effortlessly dodged the incoming blade with a sidestep. In the same instant, black-and-blue energy wrapped around his right leg. He kicked forward, his foot colliding with Bowie's large stomach.

The black-and-blue energy seemed to clash with something, creating an explosive effect.

Bowie was sent hurtling downwards, crashing into the arena floor with a heavy impact that left a crater.

Cyr glanced at the fallen opponent, his foot tingling from the soft yet springy sensation of Bowie's stomach.

'It really does feel like a trampoline.' he mused.

Then, his gaze sharpened.

"Looks like I might've broken through his defense just a little. I could feel my kick actually landing on his stomach."

The black flash's critical hit is 2.5 times the original force...

Ah, so that's how it is. This guy's defensive limit is right there.

Not so impressive after all. And it seems like, for this entire time, he doesn't have any other abilities...

Did this guy really pour all his energy into developing his defense?

He's not that coward girl from a certain universe who essential did the same thing.

If that's true, how boring.

"That kind of hurt..." Bowie muttered, rubbing his fat-covered stomach.

He had no idea that Cyr had already figured out the upper limit of his defense. To be fair, even Bowie himself didn't know what his defensive limit was.

"Little punk!" Bowie glared upward in frustration, his eyes fixed on the figure still hovering in the air.

"If this is all your defense can manage..." The white-haired, blue-eyed youth leaned forward, bending slightly as he looked down at Bowie from above.

"Curse Technique Lapse—Blue."

"Maximum Output."

Black-and-blue energy gathered in Cyr's palm, forming a dense, glowing orb. The immense gravitational pull forced everyone in the audience to grab onto the nearest fixed object, fearing they too might be dragged toward the arena.

"The game's about to end," Cyr said with a calm smile. His fingers twitched slightly, sending the energy sphere hurtling downward.

The moment the black-and-blue energy touched Bowie, a massive explosion erupted on the stage.

The already-damaged arena was obliterated, leaving nothing but a flattened surface. The blast even extended to the walls below the closest audience seating, blowing a massive hole into the structure.

Yet, despite the chaos, no one in the audience was injured.

When the dust finally settled, Bowie's body was embedded deep into the wall beneath the audience seating.

His clothes were in tatters, his body covered in wounds and blood. His so-called invincible defense had been shattered.

"Bowie? Bowie?"

The scorekeeper ran to his side, calling his name repeatedly. After checking his condition, they turned to the announcer and shook their head, signaling that Bowie could no longer continue the fight.

Although the match was technically scored in rounds, if one contestant couldn't continue, scoring was unnecessary.

"Bowie is incapacitated! Hill has broken through Bowie's previously impenetrable defense!"

"Let's congratulate Hill on his victory!" the announcer declared with excitement, her voice barely audible over the roaring cheers of the crowd.

Cyr walked leisurely off the stage. As he passed by two figures in the audience, he stopped, turned his head, and said to them:

"Don't forget to hand in your registration forms."

°°°

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