The world knows Isaac Netero as humanity's strongest.
He rose to chair the Hunter Association, founded the Shingen-Ryu school, and created the Zodiac as sparring partners. Hair tied up in a topknot, expression stern—he recognized no kin.
Few, however, know that Netero in his youth was a man of singular purity, wholly devoted to mastering martial arts.
At age 46, sensing that both his body and mind had reached the limits of human potential, he began a daily ritual of 10,000 gratitude punches on a mountaintop, in reverence to the martial arts that had shaped him.
From a prayerful stance to a full-force thrust…
His first 10,000 strikes took eighteen hours. Then sixteen. Fourteen. Ten. Nine…
By the time he turned 50, he completed all 10,000 punches in a single hour.
When he descended the mountain, he moved faster than sound. He humbled every dojo master he challenged. One, brought to tears, knelt and offered Netero his dojo's banner in reverence.
The words "Repay the endless grace of martial arts with one's utmost effort" became the Shingen-Ryu's foundational creed.
Like Zhu Xi to Neo-Confucianism, like Wang Yangming to the School of Mind—it was doctrine.
Biscuit remembered clearly. As a child, Netero often patted her head and taught her:
"When things upset you, don't solve them with violence. Feel them. Understand. Change your view. What seems unpleasant may simply mean you haven't grown enough yet."
Boom. Boom. Boom...
The clash in the arena escalated. Whipping Nen stirred the air, tossing the girl's bangs.
Biscuit stared blankly at Roy, eyes lost in a boy's smile reflected in her pupils.
"Who told you that phrase?"
"Does it matter?"
"It matters a lot!" Biscuit leaned forward, uncharacteristically serious.
Roy leaned so close he could smell her bath soap. "No one did," he answered honestly.
"Hoh—" Biscuit leaned back slightly.
Roy gently brushed his cane. "I've been practicing sword swings too. Thirty thousand a day. Recently gained some minor insight…"
Minor? Biscuit's ponytail perked up with a "ding." She grabbed Roy by the collar, forehead pressed to his, yelling, "What do you take Shingen-Ryu for?!"
"Keep it up and I'll beat you!"
'You asked first,' Roy signaled, pushing back the restless Wutong. He slouched into his chair and nodded toward the ring.
"Worry about your precious disciple first."
Nen clashed fiercely.
Yungu, who had been dominating, got distracted by the noise below. Morris landed a kick. Luckily, Yungu blocked with his arm and avoided a critical hit.
"You're losing focus, boy. Who do you think you're disrespecting?"
Morris retracted his whip-kick and charged in. Attack uninterrupted, he aimed to end it while Yungu was 'injured.'
Despite looking weak, Morris's hits hurt like hell. He wasn't going to let Yungu recover. He charged, arms elongating like whips, coiling around Yungu's waist.
"It's here! Rubber Man Morris's signature move—Rubber Root Pull!"
The announcer screamed into the mic. The crowd exploded.
Biscuit released Roy. Both turned to the stage, eyes subtly coated with thin Nen—using Gyo.
Transmutation types are known for altering the nature and form of aura, often exhibiting softness and plasticity.
Like Hisoka—his "Bungee Gum" stretches aura.
Morris used the same principle, shaping aura into a rubber-like softness—becoming the "Rubber Man."
Whoosh.
The slippery Nen-arms snaked around.
Yungu cursed himself for losing focus. He quickly used Ten to shield his waist, protecting his ribs. Then he grabbed the "arms" and locked into a power struggle.
Enhancement types differ from Transmutation—they use Nen to reinforce the body itself, maximizing physical strength.
Like Uvogin—unfazed by bullets, RPG blasts, and capable of cratering the earth with one punch.
All strength returned inward.
"Now comes the showdown of Ren. Whoever has the stronger Ren wins…"
A veteran Nen user near Roy and Biscuit commented, eyes also shining with Nen.
Wutong turned, recognized him, and whispered to Roy, "That's 'Godshot' Guy."
No one on the 200th floor is dumb. Gathering intel on opponents is standard for seasoned Nen users in Heavens Arena.
Roy nodded in acknowledgment. He side-eyed Biscuit—
The old woman was swinging her stubby legs again, not worried at all about Yungu.
She even teased Roy:
"Lying at your age? I'll tell your parents."
Sword training? What a joke.
She nearly believed him.
The Zoldycks never trained in swordsmanship.
And considering the past between Netero and the Zoldycks…
It wasn't hard for Biscuit to guess—Zeno or that one from the Zoldyck family must've shared Shingen-Ryu's secrets with Roy.
Besides, when did swordsmen use canes as blades?
'Only this brat could pull that off…'
She glanced at Roy's cane. Just a regular hiking stick. Nothing special.
In Roy's grip, though, it looked old—like something a feeble elder would lean on to stay upright.
"Hrrah!"
At the peak of their power struggle, Morris failed to end it.
Against an Enhancer focused on strength, the outcome was obvious.
Yungu exhaled, shouted, and launched Morris—Nen-arms and all—into the air.
Boom!
A crater opened outside the ring.
Morris's tongue lolled out.
He passed out instantly.
The battle was over.
The stadium roared. Tens of thousands shouted "Yungu!"
As his master, Biscuit beamed.
The boy calmly drew his blade from the cane—its surface traced with black flame patterns that shimmered under the arena's lights.
"You're up next."
Biscuit: "?"
T/n:
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