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Chapter 17: The Gold Medal Agent
Gotoh was still waiting in the corridor.
seeing Ronin walk down, he offered a friendly smile.
Ronin waved it off. Just business.
Walking out of the arena, Ronin's main concern was whether Illumi would act.
The killing intent from that guy was real. Ronin had no desire to provoke a brother-complex psychopath.
He had no intention of interacting with Killua. With a freak like Illumi and a powerhouse like Gotoh watching, trying to contact Killua now was suicide.
Ronin, who only mastered C-Rank Ninjutsu, didn't labor under the delusion that he was invincible.
Fortunately, Illumi didn't come looking for him. The killing intent seemed to be a momentary reaction to seeing Killua beaten, not a lasting vendetta.
Or perhaps the Zoldyck family's policy of "business is business" meant Illumi wouldn't attack a Nen user who had just been paid off by the family.
Still, Ronin didn't relax his vigilance. Caution never hurt, especially with the Phantom Troupe potentially still out there.
Information gathering in this world was advanced. Between the internet and the Hunter Association, finding someone wasn't hard if you had money.
Unless he went to live in a cave, he was trackable.
Ronin's assessment of his injuries was accurate. On the eighth day after arriving at Heaven's Arena—the day he won his match on the 190th floor and qualified for the 200th—his arm and side were fully healed.
During his victory on the 190th floor, Ronin spotted a little white-haired boy in the audience.
Killua.
He was probably still unwilling to accept his defeat.
Ronin felt a fleeting killing intent from Killua, appearing and vanishing in an instant.
Watching Killua hurry away, Ronin wondered, Did Illumi put the needle in his brain this early?
Whatever. Not his problem.
Reaching the 200th floor meant Ronin's account balance swelled to 200 million Jenny.
The victory on the 190th floor alone brought in that massive sum!
However, future victories would only earn him glory, not cash.
Leaving the ring, he found someone waiting for him in the corridor again.
This time, it wasn't Gotoh. It was a woman he didn't recognize.
"Hello, Mr. Ronin. I'm Milia, a Gold Medal Agent. I'd like to discuss a mutually beneficial business deal with you."
She handed him a business card as she spoke.
Ronin took it.
Milia, Gold Medal Agent!
Ronin pocketed the card and looked her over carefully.
She had waist-length, jet-black hair and a delicate, fair face with light makeup. She wore a sharp black business suit and pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses with a professional air.
But what caught Ronin's attention was that, like him, she was shrouded in Ten.
This agent was a Nen user.
Ronin's guard went up.
"I believe you have immense value, Mr. Ronin. With my assistance, you have a very high chance of becoming a Floor Master," Milia said politely, her voice cool but sincere.
However, the promise she was selling seemed a bit too big.
Ronin knew a bit about agents.
Heaven's Arena had over a billion viewers daily, and that number was growing.
The highest viewership was for the fights on the 200th floor and above. Every fighter there had star potential, and the Floor Masters were brighter than movie stars.
When Ronin arrived in the city, the streets were plastered with posters endorsed by Floor Masters.
Being a Floor Master meant not only strength but survival. The mortality rate on the 200th floor was high.
Agents like Milia specialized in turning fighters into celebrities. They had the resources to help fighters make money and gain fame faster.
Being a "Gold Medal" agent proved her capability.
Ronin didn't refuse immediately. He led her to a lounge, thinking about what a partnership could offer him.
He didn't mind being famous.
But he needed enough strength first. Being famous would make him a massive beacon for the Phantom Troupe—specifically Uvogin.
He needed to be ready. If he could kill Uvogin, he was confident he could retreat safely.
"You think I have the potential to be a Floor Master?" Ronin asked skeptically.
Uvogin was a distant problem. Becoming a Floor Master seemed unlikely in the short term.
Milia shook her head. "Your current strength isn't enough. But your image is excellent. And as I said, you have a chance with my assistance."
Ronin understood.
"You can strengthen me?" Ronin asked. He wasn't good at intrigue. He had to admit Hisoka was right sometimes; he wasn't a schemer.
But his intuition told him Milia didn't have malicious intent, just calculation.
"You could understand it that way," Milia nodded. "I've watched your fights and estimated your aura capacity. It's decent, better than some rookies. I can see you are deliberately honing your combat skills, and you're improving fast. You are a genius."
She added, "A combat genius."
"I want to know, is your strengthening temporary, or does it help me permanently increase my power?" Ronin asked the key question.
He didn't care about being a Floor Master.
As Milia said, he came here to train.
The title meant nothing.
Milia was attractive only if she could accelerate his training like Biscuit Krueger, or help him make money.
He doubted she could do the former. But the latter? Definitely.
So he presented the training aspect as his primary desire to gain leverage in the negotiation.
Milia frowned slightly but answered honestly. "Temporary."
.....
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