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Chapter 34 - Chapter 34: Registration X Pervert

"Congratulations, you've reached the 200th floor. Please proceed to register. The 200 million prize money has been transferred to your account."

Kevin Carpenberg nodded.

Ever since his fight with Killua, Kevin hadn't planned to waste much time below the 200th floor.

Afterward, he fought a few more matches, quickly learning his opponents' power techniques through his Nen ability, then winning cleanly and efficiently.

Within just a few days, he had reached the 200th floor.

From here on, all battles would be between Nen users. Trying to recklessly tank attacks to learn from them like on the lower floors was no longer a viable strategy.

Especially when facing Nen-based attacks—his ability to learn would be greatly diminished.

After all, when it came to Nen, due to Kevin's instinctive bias, he found it easier to learn enhancement-type abilities—transformations induced through internal changes like with serums.

Kevin took the elevator directly to the 200th floor.

The moment he stepped in, a wave of malicious Nen aura permeated the entire floor.

For ordinary people, stepping onto this floor would feel like entering a hunting ground watched by natural predators—a den of demons.

"Not very welcoming, huh."

Unbothered, Kevin walked straight toward the registration desk.

Standing quietly beside it was a girl in a Sky Arena uniform.

Kevin immediately saw she was a Nen user. Apparently, even the staff on this floor needed to know Nen.

Thinking about it, that made sense. Without Nen, working here would probably drive someone insane.

Before Kevin could speak, laughter echoed from the nearby hallway.

"A rookie, huh."

"Looks like he can use Nen."

"Wanna register for a match with us? I'll go easy on you, I promise."

"Hehehe!"

Kevin glanced over to see a group of bizarre-looking people. All of them had some form of physical disability—one had an eyepatch, another was missing fingers.

Kevin could tell at a glance that their Nen was unrefined. They hadn't even mastered the four basic principles.

"Out of my way. If one of you ends up as my first opponent, that'd be too boring. I'm not interested in bullying the handicapped."

His words stabbed into their hearts like a drill, striking right at their sore spots.

"What did you say?! You arrogant jerk!"

"Yo, you've got guts, rookie. Hope you can keep talking tough once we're in the ring."

"Hurry and register. I'm gonna make sure you don't even get the chance to surrender."

"We'll make sure you end up just like us."

Uninterested, Kevin waved them away like swatting flies.

His dismissive attitude only infuriated them further.

Their Nen flared up violently with their emotions, oozing hostility.

"Get lost, you worthless trash! Don't block the way!"

A sharp, irritable voice came from behind the group.

The moment they heard it, they backed away like they'd seen a monster, clearing a path.

A tall figure slowly walked forward, wearing a tight, bizarre outfit that only a true pervert would dare wear.

His face was covered in scars, and his exposed hands were crisscrossed with cuts. His dry, straw-like yellow hair hung loosely over his shoulders.

As he moved, the four weapons hanging from his waist clinked together with a metallic "ding-dong" sound.

Even the staff at the registration desk turned pale at the sight of him.

His cloudy eyes locked onto Kevin, brimming with scrutiny.

"A newly sprouted seedling. What a shame—you've already learned Nen." His voice was sharp and theatrical, as if singing opera.

"As a gardener, I don't mind though. So, how about it? Want to have a battle worthy of art? I'll be sure to 'prune' you well."

He began circling Kevin slowly.

His Nen leaked out with his emotion, but it wasn't like ordinary Nen full of battle intent or hostility. It was twisted—so vile it made one sick just by sensing it.

"I want to register," Kevin said to the staff, expressionless.

The girl snapped out of her daze and quickly nodded.

She composed herself and asked, "When would you like to schedule your match? I can explain the details—"

Kevin waved her off.

"Just register me. Anytime is fine. I know the rules."

Hearing that, the girl nodded.

Kevin stepped aside and looked at the grotesque man, his calm posture radiating provocation.

The group of noisy misfits now stared at Kevin like he was a dead man walking.

One of them opened his mouth, as if trying to warn him, but after receiving a cold glance from the scarred man, swallowed hard and fell silent.

"Well then, I'll register too. This is going to be quite the show."

He turned his head—only to find that Kevin had already vanished, leaving only a fading silhouette behind.

Staring at the retreating figure, the man's expression darkened.

He gritted his teeth, his voice squeezed out from deep in his throat: "I'll make sure to 'prune' you perfectly, little seedling."

Kevin didn't return home. Instead, he went straight to Mito's place.

"Have a seat, I'll go grab a jacket," Mito said as he turned to head for his room.

"A jacket? Are you heading out?" Kevin asked, puzzled.

Now it was Mito's turn to look confused. He stood still, then gestured as if sipping from a wine glass.

"I didn't come here to drink."

"Huh? My bad."

Realizing the misunderstanding, Mito came back.

"So the only reason I'd come find you is to eat and drink?" Kevin said helplessly.

Mito shrugged without explanation.

Usually, if Kevin came during the day, it was to check on his training and offer some guidance.

If it was at night, then without exception, it meant grabbing food and drinks, maybe browsing the night market for herbs.

Mito, being from a nomadic people, was quite knowledgeable in this area. He also knew special channels to obtain rare materials not easily found on the market.

As a form of repayment, he often helped Kevin make those purchases.

"I remember you've got recordings of matches from fighters above the 200th floor, right?"

Mito nodded.

Since he didn't have Nen like Kevin at the time, he had collected many such recordings after reaching the 200th floor.

"I registered today. If nothing goes wrong, my opponent will be some pervert in a skintight suit, face full of scars, and carrying four different weapons on his waist."

Mito's eyes widened.

He wasn't surprised Kevin had reached the 200th floor. That was to be expected.

What shocked him was the opponent Kevin would be facing.

"Are you sure? That guy is dangerous. Every recording I've got shows just how deadly he is."

Mito's expression turned grim, his worry plain as day.

"Oh? Then let's take a look." Kevin's interest was clearly piqued.

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