As the match drew closer, Ronin could see promotional posters of himself all over Heaven's Arena.
"Cold-Blooded Supernova Ronin vs. the Ugly Greg."
That was the headline.
A poster so infuriating that when Ronin finally met Greg, the man looked like he wanted to tear him apart and eat him alive.
Millia had really gone all out stirring up hatred for him.
That said, over the five days leading up to the match, Ronin had also witnessed Millia's terrifying efficiency and powerful connections firsthand.
She brought him the news he had been waiting for most.
Information about the Scarlet Eyes.
"I've confirmed that someone currently has a pair of Scarlet Eyes," Millia said, handing the intel directly to Ronin. "If you're willing to offer a high enough price, they're not completely unwilling to sell."
In the photos attached to the report, the Scarlet Eyes were clearly visible—sealed inside a glass container.
Ronin recognized that container immediately.
It was exactly the same type of bottle that had held his predecessor's father's Scarlet Eyes—the ones he had seized from Uvogin.
That alone forced Ronin to consider whether the seller behind this deal might be the Phantom Troupe.
"The price?" Ronin asked, frowning.
"In recent years, Scarlet Eyes have gone for around one billion," Millia replied. "But this seller is asking for over 1.5 billion—possibly even as high as two billion."
To Ronin, the price itself was still reasonable.
After all, Kurapika had once paid 2.9 billion, and that had clearly involved personal grudges driving the price up.
What really worried Ronin was this: if the seller was the Phantom Troupe, there was a real risk of buying a fake.
"I need to hide my identity when dealing with the seller," Ronin said directly.
There was only one reason for that—avoiding counterfeit goods.
With the Sharingan, he could easily judge authenticity through the unique attraction the Scarlet Eyes exerted.
He didn't believe for a second that eyes copied by Kortopi could trigger evolution in his own.
But if they somehow could?
Then he'd accept it gladly.
It would actually be good news.
All he'd have to do then was kidnap Kortopi, and who knew how far his Sharingan might evolve?
The Rinnegan?
Or something beyond even that?
Still, he figured that was probably impossible.
As for hiding his identity—given his relationship with the Troupe, any face-to-face meeting would inevitably turn violent.
Until he had enough strength, avoidance was the smarter option.
Once he did have enough strength—
That would be the day he wiped out the Troupe.
Millia had no objections. In fact, she could more or less guess his reasons.
After a moment's thought, she nodded. "That's fine. After your match with Greg, you should have just about enough to buy those eyes."
"Working with you really was the right choice," Ronin said with a satisfied smile.
If he were relying on himself alone, earning two billion jenny in such a short time would've been extremely difficult.
But if a single match could bring in two billion—
That meant Millia's operation would be generating at least four billion in total profit.
A gold-medal agent indeed.
Then again, just winning on the 190th floor already earned two hundred million. With proper hype and promotion, forty billion from a 200th-floor match didn't seem that unrealistic.
At the top of any industry, making money became easy.
For Nen users compared to ordinary people, it was the same as having surpassed the absolute pinnacle of combat.
"If you're not in a rush, we could probably push that price down a bit," Millia finally said after holding it in for a while.
"How so?" Ronin asked.
Through their interactions, Ronin had realized that Millia had her own very specific philosophy when it came to saving and managing money.
She was like a hoarding hamster—she loved earning money and loved saving it even more. She hated spending, but when spending was unavoidable, she wouldn't hesitate.
Even then, she'd always mutter, Money spent now is just for earning more later.
"Since the Kurta Clan massacre, Scarlet Eyes have been circulating on the black market," Millia explained. "At least a dozen pairs are already in private collections. I've even heard that several pairs will appear at this year's Yorknew Auction."
"If you can wait, you could definitely get them for cheaper."
"In my estimate, the price shouldn't exceed 1.5 billion."
As she said this, even her normally cool, composed face showed a hint of pain—like Ronin was spending her money.
Probably just professional overinvestment.
Ronin couldn't help smiling. "No need to wait. I'll be going to the Yorknew Auction anyway."
"…Fine," Millia said, returning to her cold, elegant demeanor. "It's your money. I'm just the agent."
The 25th arrived quickly amid Ronin's training.
When he stepped onto the stage, he noticed banners supporting him already hanging in the front rows. Some fans had even organized themselves to cheer loudly.
Meanwhile, on the opposite side, "Ugly Greg" looked increasingly unpleasant.
So much so that he now resembled a one-eyed squash.
"You damn bastard! I'll tear you apart in the ring!" Greg shouted.
The referee hadn't even announced the start yet, and Greg was already hurling curses.
"Got it, Mr. Squash," Ronin replied with a smile—and a description he felt suited Greg perfectly.
"AAAAAAH!" Greg roared, his anger exploding as his face turned red.
The referee's mouth twitched. He didn't even dare look directly at Greg's face, afraid he might burst out laughing and lose his professionalism.
So he quickly stepped back and shouted, "The match begins now!"
The instant the referee's voice fell, Greg exploded forward at full speed, charging straight at Ronin.
Ronin's expression sharpened.
Nen gathered toward his eyes, forming Gyo, allowing him to clearly see every thread of aura flowing through Greg's body.
At the same time, more Nen surged across Ronin's surface, forming Ren, as he adjusted his stance—ready for a defensive counterattack.
But when Greg closed to within less than ten feet, a brick suddenly appeared in his raised hand.
With a burst of arm strength, he hurled it straight at Ronin's head.
Ronin slapped the brick aside—but immediately afterward, Greg's other hand, hidden behind him, flung out a massive cloud of lime powder straight at Ronin's face.
This guy really had no sense of sportsmanship.
Thinking that, Ronin unleashed the left fist he had already drawn back at his waist.
At the same moment, his eyes faintly glowed red.
The terrifying shockwave from his punch blasted the lime powder straight back at Greg.
It carried the same overwhelming presence as when Uvogin had once shattered a massive Fireball Jutsu with a single punch in the airship corridor.
This—
Was Uvogin's signature technique:
Super Destructive Punch.