Kurapika inclined his head slightly in return. "I'm merely returning with students. Please finalize the registration."
"Of course, Master Kurapika! Right away!" The receptionist sprang into action with newfound speed and zeal, his fingers flying over the keyboard. He printed a badge distinct from the others: matte black with a thin silver border and a small engraved symbol—a hand topped by a stylized eye. "Your Master badge, as usual. Full access to all floors, including instructor and official zones. Your Master lodging on the 243rd floor is at your disposal immediately. Your… students can, of course, be housed in your suite if you wish."
He handed the badge to Kurapika with palpable deference, then distributed standard badges—glowing white plastic rectangles displaying their name, alias, number, and current floor (Ground)—to the other three with a simple, professional nod.
"Welcome to Heavens Arena," he said, addressing the group, though his eyes kept drifting back to Kurapika. "Your first opponents will be assigned within 48 hours. Check the display screens or the personal terminal in your badge."
Kurapika took his black badge and turned to his friends, whose gazes now brimmed with new questions and a mix of awe and respect. Gon's eyes were wide, Leorio seemed to be reassessing his entire view of Kurapika, and Killua studied him with renewed intensity, as if glimpsing a new facet of him.
Kurapika slipped the black badge into an inner jacket pocket, his expression neutral, almost distant. Then he faced them, his gaze lingering on each.
"I'll be waiting at the 200th floor."
Gon blinked, surprised. "Huh? You mean… right now?"
Kurapika shook his head. "No. I'll observe for two months. You have that time to reach the 200th. From there, your real training begins."
Leorio paled slightly. "Wait, wait, wait… Two months?! We're at the ground floor! Do you know how many floors that is?"
"One hundred ninety-nine," Kurapika replied with calm precision.
Leorio threw his hands up. "One hundred ninety-nine fights in sixty days! That's, what, over three fights a day on average? Four if you count rest days! Are you serious?"
Killua, arms crossed, was already mentally calculating the progression curve needed. "You're not wrong, Leorio. It's a lot…" He looked up at Kurapika. "But it's doable."
Gon gripped his badge tightly. For once, he wasn't smiling. His face showed raw, focused determination. "It's a challenge, and I'm taking it. If that's what it takes to master Nen and get closer to my dad… I'm all in."
Leorio let out a loud sigh. "Great. Surrounded by lunatics." He muttered something about early ulcers and health insurance but grabbed his badge with resignation.
Killua's eyes were fixed on the Arena's endless ceilings. "It took me two years to reach the 200th floor when I was six. Back then, I knew nothing, I was alone… and it wasn't my goal." He met Kurapika's gaze. "Now, I think I can do it in a month. Maybe less."
Kurapika nodded, satisfied. "I don't demand perfection. But I want to see your limits. And I want you to surpass them. The Arena is the perfect place for that. You'll face opponents of all levels, a competitive environment, and constant pressure."
Leorio raised a brow. "And you? How long did it take you to get there?"
Kurapika gave a nearly imperceptible smile. "Two weeks."
Silence dropped like a stone.
Gon blinked. "…Two weeks?"
"You cheating or what?!" Leorio sputtered.
"I was motivated," Kurapika said simply. Then he looked at each of them, his gaze piercing. "You are too. I know it."
Killua smirked, one corner of his mouth lifting.
Kurapika gestured toward an elevator, its doors opening with a soft ping. "Your rooms are waiting. Rest tonight. Tomorrow, you enter the arena."
Without another word, Kurapika turned and walked away, taking a staff-only elevator.
Gon watched him go, mouth slightly agape. "Kurapika… he's really incredible."
Killua stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Something tells me there's more to him than that."
Leorio looked up at the endless ceiling, exasperated. "Great… four fights a day, huh? Fantastic. I hope they've got coffee machines in the locker rooms."
Gon slapped his shoulder, beaming again. "Don't worry, Leorio! We'll help each other! And the more we win, the faster we climb, right?"
"Yeah… or the faster we get smashed." Leorio sighed again, then smiled despite himself. "Alright. Let's check out our rooms. And pray for decent mattresses."
***
The main elevators, just behind the registration area, were vast, transparent, and as swift as they were silent. They ascended to "001: Newcomer Hub," a modest, bustling platform.
Colored neons, multilingual announcements, holographic visuals of star fighters floating in the air…
A virtual assistant appeared as they passed the gates. A stylized female figure, hovering inches off the ground, greeted them in a soft, artificial voice.
"Hello, new fighters! Welcome to the thrilling world of Heavens Arena. Would you like a guided tour of the first floor or direct access to your quarters?"
Leorio waved her off wearily. "Straight to the quarters, thanks. We've had enough rules for one day."
"Very well! Follow the blue arrows on the floor. Your shared room awaits in section D-12."
—
Room D-12 was basic, as promised. Four bunk beds, metal storage lockers, a clean but spartan bathroom, and a… wall view. The place smelled of cheap disinfectant and fresh plastic.
Leorio flopped onto a bed with a theatrical sigh. "I've stayed in cozier motels."
Gon, meanwhile, was thrilled. "We're really living here?! Awesome! It's like a giant training camp!"
Killua sat on the edge of his bed, looking around. "We've had worse. At least there aren't scorpions in the sheets."
Gon was already bounding toward his locker. "I want to sign up for a fight! As soon as possible!"
Killua grabbed his collar before he could dart out. "Hold it, sprinter. We just got here. You don't even know what you're up against."
Leorio, propped up on his bed, frowned. "Like the sharks circling the newbies, huh…"
"What if we trained a bit tonight?" Gon suggested. "Just to loosen up."
Killua shrugged. "Why not. I spotted a gym on level -1."
He slid his badge onto his arm. The blue LED lit up.
"Let's go, then. The start of our climb."
Leorio dragged his feet but followed, adjusting his glasses.
"I just hope this damn Arena's worth it. I didn't sign up to die on floor 2."
Killua chuckled. "You'll survive, Doctor."
The three left the room, swallowed by the corridor's cold light.
***
The level 1 training gym was behind a set of double metal doors at the end of an empty, dimly lit hallway. The air reeked of sweat, heated rubber, and adrenaline the moment they crossed the threshold.
Inside, the space opened into a vast rectangle with padded, reinforced walls. Ropeless rings, marked by light tiles, dotted the center. Around them, a handful of fighters warmed up: beginners in shapeless tracksuits, muscled guys who'd clearly maxed out on gym time but skipped style, and a couple of dead-eyed types who looked like they were waiting for a predator to stir them.
Gon led the way, eyes gleaming. He paused, scanning the room. Killua followed with a fluid step, hands in pockets. Leorio trailed behind with a resigned sigh.
Their entrance drew eyes. Some curious, others hostile. The kind of attention reserved for newcomers expected to crash and burn.
A guy broke away from the loudest group. Tall, shirtless despite the icy air conditioning, his arms tattooed with flames, his shaved head glinting under the neons. He stomped toward them, cracking his knuckles, and locked bloodshot eyes with Gon's.
"Lost, shrimp? This ain't a daycare. Wanna play tough? Go buy a helmet at the gift shop."
Gon blinked, unfazed. "Wanna train with me?"
The guy burst out laughing. Others around him joined in.
"Seriously? Want me to crush you? That can be arranged."
He raised a fist, confident, ready to intimidate.
He didn't see the blow coming.
In a flash, Gon pivoted, leaned slightly, and struck. His fist hit the man's abdomen with surgical precision. Not a heavy hit.
The giant collapsed like a sack of sand.
Silence.
The laughter stopped. Even breaths paused for a moment.
Leorio's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "…Holy hell, Gon. I thought you were happy to be here, not out to kill a guy on day one."
Gon leaned over the stranger, who let out a pitiful gurgle. "He's fine. He's breathing." He looked up, smiling. "Can we train now?"
A young man approached. He'd watched the scene, arms crossed, leaning against the wall from the start. About sixteen, slim, dark green hair slicked back, earphones dangling around his neck. He wore a combat vest and loose, military-style pants, but his movements were calm, almost graceful.
He stopped two meters away. His gaze flicked from Gon to Killua with interest.
"Here I thought I was the craziest kid diving into this Arena."
Gon looked at him, intrigued. "You wanna fight too?"
The boy smiled and extended a hand to Gon. "I'll pass. Hey, I'm Senka."
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