069 I'm Leaving

When it came to negotiating prices, Bisky, a veteran, was the most suitable for the task.

Ronnel grinned absentmindedly and began to check the rewards he earned from his opponent in the semi-finals.

A collection of pure Nen, a book on advanced boxing techniques from a particular style, and advanced culinary skills.

It seemed the Floor Master was a bit of a gourmet.

It was decent—not anything special, though better than the things he'd gotten from others outside of Heavens Arena. But it no longer piqued Ronnel's interest.

Only people with extraordinary bloodlines and talents, like Kurapika with his Scarlet Eyes, or world-class Nen users like Chrollo and other members of the Phantom Troupe, could offer Ronnel something truly valuable.

Touching the bodies of those individuals would give Ronnel a significant advantage.

Even from someone like Sparka, the most valuable thing Ronnel had managed to acquire was his Nen ability, Paladin's Glory, but even that was just average—Ronnel's body wasn't the most suited for it.

After slapping all his gains onto his forehead, he noticed Bisky, radiating joy, walking out with an injured and sullen-looking official.

"Got it!" Bisky announced with a bright smile.

Ronnel gave a thumbs up in response. "OK."

The official, satisfied with Ronnel's affirmation, nodded and left, leaving Bisky and Ronnel smiling knowingly at each other.

Finally, after several days of anticipation, the final battle of the Battle Olympia had arrived!

Despite knowing the outcome, many still flocked to see Ronnel crowned champion in person.

The arena was packed, with no empty seats in sight.

After a rousing speech by the announcer, the match began.

Ronnel, per the agreement, put on an entertaining show with his opponent, captivating the audience. The ratings, which had previously dipped, rebounded slightly, much to the relief of the Heavens Arena officials.

This "exhilarating" battle provided the crowd with a satisfying conclusion.

Of course, there were some who questioned why someone as strong as Ronnel had taken so long to defeat his opponent, making it seem as though it was a close match.

But such suspicions were quickly drowned out by the hired media at Heavens Arena.

Sometimes, not everything needed to be said out loud, young man.

Many in the audience understood that some behind-the-scenes agreements might have been made. But who cared?

They witnessed a spectacular fight, and Ronnel was victorious in the end. The gamblers were thrilled, and fight enthusiasts analyzed every move with admiration. No one was foolish enough to complain.

Sure, a few clueless people—sheltered flowers not yet hardened by society—might voice their concerns. But that had nothing to do with Ronnel. The championship was his, and he had brought the tournament to a satisfying close.

With the festival behind him, Ronnel had officially passed Bisky's test. Now, the world was open before him.

On the Azian Continent, Chrollo watched Ronnel accept the trophy on screen, before casually turning off the TV.

During Ronnel's battles, Chrollo hadn't missed a single one.

With the television off, Chrollo took out his conjured book, running a finger across the book's cover. The room was quiet—neither Kortopi nor Pakunoda were present. The only sound was the faint scrape of Chrollo's fingers against the book.

"Such incredible strength. If I fought him..."

His voice trailed off as the atmosphere in the room became tense.

In a small hotel, Tonpa remembered the last Hunter Exam and breathed a sigh of relief, still shaken by the experience. Survival had been a stroke of luck.

Ronnel's victory in the Battle Olympia had left many people stunned.

The day after the championship, Bisky approached Ronnel.

When he saw her, he already knew her purpose.

"I'm leaving," Bisky said, stepping into Ronnel's room with a backpack slung over her shoulder.

She got straight to the point, explaining her reason for coming, before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"When?"

Though Ronnel knew this day would come, now that it had, he couldn't help but feel a bit conflicted.

"Tomorrow."

"That soon?" Ronnel looked at her.

"I've wasted enough time on you—over six months! For a young, beautiful woman, six months is like several years for you men," Bisky said with a grin, stretching out on the bed.

Seeing her gesture, Ronnel understood. He retrieved a limited-edition beauty magazine from his desk and handed it to her.

One of the perks of doing exhibition matches.

As he passed the magazine to Bisky, Ronnel said, "Stay a few more days? Does Master Wing know?"

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