The 200th floors of Heavens Arena operated on a completely different timescale than the frantic dash of the lower levels. Weeks bled together, marked not by days passing on a conventional calendar, but by the distinct cycles of intense, solitary training, the brief, sharp shock of decisive combat, and the necessary periods of focused recovery and analysis that followed. My private room, clean and functional but ultimately spartan, became a kind of cocoon, a space dedicated solely to the relentless honing of body and mind. The dizzying view of the sprawling cityscape far below, a glittering carpet of lights by night and a concrete jungle by day, served only as a constant backdrop to the unwavering routine: hours spent drilling advanced Ryu flow, pushing for seamless, instinctive transitions between offense and defense, ensuring my aura distribution was instantaneous and precise, feeling the energy flow like liquid steel beneath my skin; pushing the limits of Ken's duration and resilience, maintaining a full body aura shroud for extended periods; strengthening the application of Shu on practice objects in the room until they felt less like external items and more like temporary, enhanced extensions of my own limbs; and the daily, grinding rotation through the core Hatsu Foundation exercises.
Physical conditioning remained paramount, the bedrock upon which my Nen ability and fighting skill were built. Speed drills in the Arena's dedicated, often empty, training rooms on the 200th floor, strength exercises using bodyweight and improvised weights in my room, flexibility routines pushed to their limits – every session was brutal, aimed at maximizing the potential of the physical body that housed and channeled my Nen.
As I drilled a complex defensive kata in my room, muscles burning with exertion, aura flowing smoothly, brief, analytical flashes of the latter five victories that had brought me to this point surfaced in my mind's eye, vivid thanks to my photographic memory. I recalled effortlessly ducking under the wild, predictable energy blasts of "Jetta Quickfire," an Emitter who left herself glaringly wide open after every shot, a fatal flaw I exploited with a simple closing maneuver and a quick takedown. There was the fight against "Borin the Barrier" who conjured crude, unstable shields, his aura woven thinly; I found their weak points almost instinctively and shattered them with precise, forceful strikes channeling aura into my hands. I remembered sidestepping the predictable enhanced charge of "Roric Stonefist," another raw Enhancer who relied solely on brute strength and momentum, easily exploiting his overextension and throwing him off balance. I'd effortlessly deflected the clumsily manipulated debris thrown by "Puppet Master Pike," a Manipulator whose control range was incredibly limited, allowing me to close the distance easily before his real Hatsu could take effect. And finally, the tenth win, against "Silvia Swift," whose impressive speed in short bursts forced me to briefly rely on a solid Ken defense, feeling the impacts against my aura, before I adapted to her rhythm, noted her rapidly draining stamina, and landed the concluding blow. Ten wins. The requirement to challenge a Floor Master was met.
The official notification came via the room's dedicated phone line a few days after my tenth win, after the Arena's systems had processed the result and potential challengers had been sorted. A crisp, formal voice on the other end confirmed my record and eligibility in terse, professional terms. "Fighter Kess Kobayashi, your challenge against Floor Master Valerius Thorne has been scheduled as a main arena event in three days. Details regarding time and specific arena location will be forwarded to your terminal." The call ended abruptly.
Suddenly, subtly, the atmosphere around me shifted. Although I mostly kept to myself or the training rooms, avoiding the more public areas, I noticed the change whenever I did venture out. The few other fighters I passed in the corridors, their own auras sharp and contained, regarded me with a new intensity – no longer just assessment, but curiosity, calculation, perhaps a touch of resentment from those stuck on the lower 200s, or anticipation from those on higher floors. Conversations sometimes hushed as I walked by, sidelong glances following me. In the public lounges near the elevators or shops, large screens that usually showed betting odds or replays of recent fights now occasionally flashed promotional graphics: "Floor Master Challenge! Undefeated Challenger vs. Incumbent Master Valerius Thorne!" My face, captured during one of my recent wins, looking far younger and perhaps less outwardly composed than I felt internally, stared back at me from stylized posters plastered near the main elevators. The Heavens Arena machine was building the hype, leveraging the narrative of the young, undefeated prodigy challenging an established master. A challenger, especially an undefeated young one ascending rapidly, was excellent for business.
The final three days leading up to the challenge were a period of intense, almost absolute focus. I minimized physical exertion, conserving my energy entirely. Instead, I focused intensely on deep meditation, perfecting my Ten until my aura felt like a second skin, ensuring my aura control was absolute, leaving no openings. I mentally walked through potential scenarios against an opponent whose abilities were unknown, considering defensive strategies against hypothetical Hatsu, reviewing my own skills and limitations. I felt no nervousness, no fear, only a sharp, honed readiness, a quiet anticipation for the first truly significant challenge since arriving here, the first time I would face a Nen user who wasn't a relative amateur.
On the night of the match, I made my final preparations in my room, the silence broken only by the distant hum of the tower. I ensured my simple attire – the dark trousers, white sleeveless shirt, dark grey jacket, and trusty boots – allowed for maximum freedom of movement. The metallic stud in my ear felt cool against my skin. When the call came via the room phone, signaling it was time to report to the main arena's waiting area, I stood, took a deep, centering breath, and walked calmly through the polished corridors leading to the main event arena's private entrance. The low murmur of a massive crowd grew steadily louder as I approached, resolving into a deafening roar as I stepped through the entrance tunnel into the blinding glare of spotlights that washed over the fighting platform.
The arena was immense, a colossal bowl of humanity, far larger than the ones used for regular floor matches, and packed to the rafters. Thousands upon thousands of spectators filled the steeply banked seats, their combined noise a physical pressure wave that hit me the moment I entered the light. Giant screens suspended high above the platform replayed highlights from my previous fights – mostly the finishing blows, edited to make the bouts look more dramatic and hard-fought than they actually felt. The announcer's voice, amplified to fill the vast space, boomed through the speakers, full of energy:
"And here he is, folks! The challenger who has taken the 200s by storm, undefeated in ten matches since his arrival! He fought his way through the ranks, demonstrating incredible speed and skill! Give it up for the young phenom, Keesssss Kobayashiiiiii!"
A wave of mixed sound washed over me – a cacophony of cheers, boos, shouts, whistles, and the general roar of the crowd. It was overwhelming, but I ignored it, my focus absolute. I walked steadily towards the center of the ring, my senses alert, my expression calm, projecting only a quiet confidence.
"And his opponent!" the announcer roared, his voice somehow rising above the din, gesturing dramatically to the opposite side of the arena. "A stalwart defender of the upper floors, a man whose defensive prowess is legendary throughout Heavens Arena! A formidable barrier no challenger has yet broken through! Please welcome the current Master of the 240th Floors… Valerius 'The Aegis' Thooooorne!"
Valerius Thorne entered from the opposite tunnel, walking with a grounded, powerful stride. He looked every bit the seasoned veteran – perhaps early fifties, stern face etched with experience, short-cropped grey hair, clad in practical, dark grey, close-fitting attire. He moved with absolute economy, every step deliberate, projecting an aura of unshakable confidence and immense stability. As he stepped into the ring, I felt the passive pressure of his Nen. It was immense – far denser, more stable, and radiating a profound sense of rootedness compared to anyone I'd faced on the 200th floor. It felt like standing before a mountain – solid, immovable, ancient, powerfully suggestive of high-level Enhancement honed for ultimate resilience and defense, perfectly fitting his nickname 'The Aegis', the shield. This was leagues beyond the amateurs I'd dispatched. This was a master.
We met in the center of the ring as the referee quickly finished his minimal instructions. On the 200th floor, the rules were simple: fight until a winner is declared. A victory could be achieved by knockout (KO), surrender, or by technical knockout (TKO) when a fighter accumulates 10 points. Points were awarded by referees during the match: 1 point for a clean hit, 2 points for a critical hit, and 1 point if a fighter was knocked down to the ground (added to their opponent's score).
Valerius's eyes, sharp and calculating, assessed me without expression, his gaze penetrating, likely trying to gauge my aura and skill. I met his gaze steadily, observing his perfectly balanced stance, noting the absolute calm and immense density of his powerful aura, searching for any subtle tension, any hint of weakness in his form or energy. There were none readily apparent. He was a true master of his craft, his control seemingly absolute.
The referee stepped back quickly, exiting the ring to stand by the edge. "Fighters, ready?" he called out, his voice cutting through the remaining crowd noise.
In response, both Valerius and I simultaneously intensified our Ken, raising our aura to its peak output, covering our entire bodies with a thick, protective shroud of power. His aura flared outward, a solid, unwavering mass of dense energy. Mine responded in kind, equally dense and perfectly contained, meeting the pressure of his Ken head-on.
A hush fell over the massive crowd, the roar dying down to a tense murmur as all eyes fixed on the two figures in the brightly lit ring, now radiating their full power. The air crackled with anticipation, thick with the focused energy of thousands of watchers and the palpable force emanating from the two combatants. Time seemed to slow, drawing out the moment before the inevitable clash. Then—
DING! DING! DING!
The starting bell rang out, sharp and clear, shattering the tense silence, echoing across the vast, waiting arena, signaling the beginning of my greatest challenge yet.