As Ronin headed to the arena to compete, a thirteen-year-old blond boy also arrived outside Heaven's Arena.
He was wearing the traditional clothing of the Kurta Clan—clothes Ronin himself had once worn. Clutched tightly in his hand was a poster printed with Ronin's photo.
On the poster, Ronin wore a bright, radiant smile. But the face holding that poster—Kurapika's—was ashen and lifeless, like a walking corpse that had lost all hope.
Even now, even though he could look up and see promotional posters everywhere with Ronin's face plastered on them, endorsing GG, Kurapika still couldn't reconcile the smiling boy in those images with the Ronin he knew.
Part of him desperately hoped that the star-like figure on the posters really was Big Brother Ronin. Another part of him doubted it—because the Ronin who knew about the massacre of the Kurta Clan could never wear such a sunny, carefree smile.
Yet the news reports, along with the information he'd gathered after returning to the Kurta Clan's homeland, all pointed to one undeniable fact:
Of the 129 members of the Kurta Clan, only 127 bodies had been found.
The two who were missing… should be him and Ronin.
Kurapika's eyes gradually hardened with resolve. He was going to find out the truth—no matter what it took.
---
Around the same time Kurapika entered Heaven's Arena by registering as a fighter, another group arrived on the 227th floor.
"I thought the throat-slitting gesture he made at me back then was arrogant enough," someone sneered. "Turns out he doesn't even bother hiding who he is. Should I call that looking down on everyone, fearless ignorance… or just being stupid beyond saving?"
The speaker was Uvogin. After finishing the Phantom Troupe's business, he'd asked Shalnark to help track down Ronin.
Even Shalnark hadn't expected the investigation to be this easy. A quick online search was all it took to find the overwhelming flood of promotions:
'Heaven's Arena Super Rookie.'
'Crimson Shooting Star.'
'Violent Ronin.'
The sheer number of flashy titles was almost blinding.
More importantly, Shalnark effortlessly downloaded the video of Ronin's fight against Garegg.
The moment Uvogin saw the two fighters on the screen, he burst out laughing in anger—because he immediately recognized the move Ronin used to finish Garegg.
It was his move.
The Big Bang Impact.
The extreme control over Nen, the rapid concentration—everything was identical to how he unleashed Big Bang Impact himself.
Which meant this bastard hadn't just stepped into the spotlight without fear—he'd blatantly stolen Uvogin's signature technique and used it in public.
If Uvogin could swallow that kind of insult, he might as well crawl back to his hometown's garbage dump and live as trash.
So he came here.
Along with him were Shalnark, who was clearly here to enjoy the show, and Nobunaga, who was also curious about Ronin and itching to slice him into minced meat.
"I think he did it on purpose," Shalnark said, offering a different opinion.
"Oh?" Uvogin shot him an annoyed look. "You think he actually has what it takes to fight me?"
---
At that moment, two figures stepped onto the stage—Ronin and his opponent, Sidney, a fighter with a record of three wins and one loss in Heaven's Arena.
Sidney was an Emitter. The instant the match began, he pulled away from Ronin, raised his right hand in a gun-like gesture, and aimed straight at him.
"Bang!"
Sidney mimicked the sound of a gunshot as he fired.
Ronin focused Nen into his eyes and clearly saw aura gathering at Sidney's fingertip, then shooting out the moment he shouted bang.
"As long as I keep my distance within a limited range, fighting like this is completely in my favor," Sidney said calmly after Ronin dodged the first Nen bullet. "Give up. You'll never get close to me."
There was no panic in his voice—only condescension, as if he were generously offering mercy from on high.
Ronin had to admit that Sidney wasn't wrong. In an arena like this, Emitters did have a natural advantage.
But telling him to surrender? That was pure arrogance.
Even without activating the Sharingan, every Nen bullet Sidney fired was crystal clear in Ronin's eyes.
Still, Ronin had no intention of winning by simply dodging.
After fusing his second pair of Scarlet Eyes, both his physical strength and aura reserves had increased noticeably. And nearly ten days of training hadn't been for nothing—he had already grasped the essence of Uvogin's Big Bang Impact.
At this point, he could use it even without the Sharingan.
So what would happen when an overwhelming body was paired with refined technique?
Ronin activated the advanced Nen application Flow, maintaining Ken while channeling even more aura into his hands.
When Sidney's next Nen bullet came flying at him, Ronin moved even faster—intercepting the projectile in midair despite its bullet-like speed.
Bang!
Using just three fingers, Ronin caught the Nen bullet with terrifying force.
Then, right before Sidney's stunned eyes, he unleashed the power mechanics of Big Bang Impact and crushed the bullet between his fingers, detonating it on the spot.
"So," Ronin said as he stepped forward, closing the distance, "who was it that wanted to surrender?"
An immense pressure slammed into Sidney. His hand, still shaped like a gun, began to tremble uncontrollably.
He'd seen the video of Ronin fighting Garegg. Sure, Ronin had shown terrifying destructive power—but Sidney never thought he'd lose to him.
Now he knew he was wrong.
Ronin had definitely been hiding his strength in that fight.
Sidney fired again and again, Nen bullets exploding toward Ronin—only for each one to be casually caught and crushed as Ronin continued advancing.
When Ronin closed to within three meters, Sidney finally couldn't take the pressure anymore and lowered his arm.
But he didn't surrender.
Instead, he suddenly stepped forward and threw an upward punch straight at Ronin.
The gun stance gave him range and precision—but his fist unleashed far greater power!
That punch carried the force of a cannon. If it weren't a move that hurt himself almost as much as his opponent, why would he bother keeping his distance in the first place?
Still, forcing Ronin to bring out his trump card was something to be proud of.
That was what Sidney thought—right up until his punch was stopped cold by a much larger, stronger hand.
The massively concentrated Emitter-type Nen on his fist didn't even get a chance to explode. Ronin's palm smothered it instantly.
"No way—!"
As Sidney looked up, all he saw were two points of scarlet red.
The next second, searing pain erupted from his abdomen. His entire body was kicked into the air like a rubber ball.
Sidney crashed off the stage, smashing through the wall of the front-row seating and sending nearby spectators screaming in panic.
But Sidney couldn't hear any of it.
Blood spilling from his mouth, he slid down the shattered wall, eyes rolled back, already unconscious.
The crowd's panic lasted only a split second before being drowned out by the commentator's excited roar and the referee's declaration of victory.
In the next instant, the entire arena erupted into thunderous cheers—everyone shouting Ronin's name at the top of their lungs.