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40 HxH: The Strongest Assassin
🕑 Added 2024-10-30 11:21:02 +0000 UTCZeno's expression twisted as he read the message.
"The commission was rejected?"
"Do you realize it's not Kaizen's match?" someone asked nearby.
Zeno shook his head slowly. It wasn't the withdrawal that troubled him. It was how hastily the mission had been accepted in the first place.
One of Zeno's strictest rules was this: if a target is beyond reach, it's always wiser to retreat. That's a core principle of the Zoldyck family—withdraw before defeat. But even more important than retreating is this: know the target before you act.
To accept a mission without proper investigation is to invite disaster.
Even Claude and Clay, after learning they weren't a match for Kaizen, had given up their missions before it was too late—though they still had to cough up some hefty penalties. For fighters of their level, hovering only around the 130th floor of Heavens Arena, that kind of money wasn't easy to lose.
"Increase the bounty," Zeno muttered coldly, raising the commission to 10 million Jenny.
But no one took the job.
A week flew by.
Kaizen had reached the 199th floor. One more win, and he'd be eligible to enter the 200th floor—the legendary level where only the most elite fighters remained.
By now, Kaizen had racked up a fortune in prize money, his winnings surpassing 100 million Jenny.
Spectators below the 200th floor had been completely won over by his sheer strength. Match after match, Kaizen demolished his opponents with ease, sending them off the stage without breaking a sweat.
"It's like he's on a whole other level," one fighter muttered, feeling a strange sense of relief.
"Even people better than me have lost to Kaizen... Guess I can't complain."
Some fighters felt lucky.
"Good thing I didn't try anything stupid with him," one whispered. "If I had, I might've ended up like the poor fools who crossed him—dead in the ring."
Among the fighters below the 200th floor, Kaizen had become a legend. The hottest name, the most feared competitor—he was everything they aspired to be.
But things were different above the 200th floor.
A young man with a missing left arm lounged on a sofa, watching Kaizen's latest match on a screen. A subtle smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"No matter how talented you are, the 200th floor is a whole other world."
A woman with a black eyepatch over one eye licked her lips eagerly.
"Come on up, little brother," she whispered. "I'll show you how much fun we can have on the 200th floor."
Another fighter, his face lined with scars, snorted as he glanced at Kaizen's highlights.
"Talent? Heh. Everyone up here's a genius. What's one more?"
An old man, deep in thought, stroked his beard as he stared at the screen.
"This kid... he's moving fast. Too fast. Seems like he's set on climbing straight to the top."
The old man cracked his knuckles, his gaze sharpening.
"I need just a few more wins to challenge the floor master... If I can take him down, I'll be one step closer. But..." He paused, eyes narrowing. "Plenty of others are eyeing this kid. I'll have to play this carefully."
On the 200th floor, no one feared Kaizen. To them, he wasn't a prodigy—he was just another potential stepping stone.
Kaizen's next match was about to begin. Across the ring, his opponent stood ready: a young man dressed in the traditional garb of a ninja. His aura was sharp and focused, marking him as a fighter trained in a specialized place.
The crowd roared as the announcer hyped up the battle, stirring excitement in the arena.
Erlang locked eyes with Kaizen, his expression serious. He had spent hours studying Kaizen's matches, trying to pick apart his techniques. But what he found baffled him.
Kaizen didn't rely on complex techniques or flashy moves. His victories came from pure speed and overwhelming strength. No special patterns, no hidden abilities—just brute force.
"How can someone win so easily with nothing but raw power?" Erlang thought, his hands tightening into fists.
He felt uneasy. Even though he was standing in front of Kaizen now, he wasn't sure how to approach the fight.
Kaizen, by contrast, looked calm and composed. He could sense that Erlang didn't carry the intent to kill, which meant there was no real danger here. Kaizen's rule was simple: if they didn't come to kill him, he wouldn't kill them.
"Let the match begin!" the announcer's voice boomed, signaling the start of the fight.
Erlang made the first move, springing forward with incredible speed. His posture was perfect, every step calculated to strike with precision.
Kaizen didn't budge.
Bam!
Their fists collided in mid-air, and the shockwave echoed through the arena. Erlang staggered backward, his arm throbbing from the impact.
"He's... stronger than me."
Despite the overwhelming difference, Erlang gritted his teeth, planting his feet firmly on the ground. He wasn't ready to give up. He launched himself forward again, determined to give it everything he had.
But no matter how hard he fought, the truth was undeniable.
Kaizen was far beyond his level.
To the untrained eye, the match might have seemed thrilling—a fast-paced clash between two skilled fighters. But anyone with a sharp sense for combat could see the truth: Erlang was the only one attacking.
Kaizen hadn't even started to fight yet.
The gap between them was vast—impossibly vast.
