The man on the screen looked ordinary at first glance.
Short black hair, sharp eyes, and a lean but athletic build.
He wore simple black leather clothes in every image—nothing flashy, nothing that stood out.
Similar to what motorcycle club members would wear.
The metal bat was always present, resting on his shoulder or held loosely in one hand.
Conrad scrolled once, then stopped.
There were videos available. Fight footage. Analysis clips.
He didn't click them.
Instead, he closed the window.
"In a real fight," Conrad thought calmly,
"I won't have recordings. I won't have warnings."
If he became dependent on prior information, he would hesitate when facing the unknown.
That hesitation could kill him.
He needed to train his instincts, not his expectations.
All he allowed himself to keep were the basics.
Weapon user.
New user.
Aggressive range is likely mid- to close-range combat.
That was enough.
Conrad stood up and stretched lightly.
He activated Ten, letting his aura spread evenly across his body.
"This is my first Nen fight," he acknowledged silently. "But I won't treat it like a milestone."
It was just another step.
He left the room and walked down the corridor toward the arena entrance.
The hallway on Floor 200 felt different from the lower levels.
The air itself seemed heavier, not physically, but mentally.
This was where people stopped pretending.
Other fighters passed him.
Some glanced at him briefly; others ignored him entirely.
Everyone here had learned the same lesson: curiosity could be dangerous.
But the fact that they wanted to know the power of the newcomer was still there.
Conrad stopped near the waiting area and leaned against the wall, hands relaxed at his sides.
He regulated his breathing, maintaining Zetsu briefly, then returning to Ten.
Then the announcement echoed through the arena.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to today's match on Floor 200!"
The crowd noise swelled immediately.
"In the blue corner, a new fighter; it would be his debut match in the Floor 200."
"Conrad Everest!!!"
Polite applause followed. Nothing overwhelming.
Conrad stepped forward and entered the arena through the blue gate.
He waited.
"And in the red corner, veteran of Floor 200 with a solid record, Adarte Nexi!"
This time, the reaction was louder.
Adarte emerged from the opposite gate.
He was exactly like the photos.
Same black leather clothes.
The same metal bat resting on his shoulder.
He rolled his neck once as he walked, loose and confident, eyes already fixed on Conrad.
Their gazes met.
Adarte smirked slightly.
"So you're the newcomer. You look calm."
Conrad didn't reply.
Who knows, maybe replying has something to do with the ability of the enemy.
What if "replying to" the introduction of the enemy makes the enemy stronger against himself by 5%?
It is far-fetched but possible.
He wanted not to risk it.
He studied Adarte instead.
The man's aura was visible but not overflowing.
Focused mostly around his arms and shoulders.
"His aura volume is great; he may be an enhancer. I am not experienced enough to understand everything, but it is not that hard to see that he likes close combat..."
His grip on the bat was relaxed, not tight.
"He's comfortable," Conrad noted.
The announcer continued.
"Match rules are simple! Victory by knockout, surrender, or inability to continue!"
The usual reminder.
The announcer raised his hand.
"Fighters, take your positions!"
Conrad shifted his stance slightly, feet shoulder-width apart, body angled just enough to move in any direction.
His hands were open like a gripper of some kind.
Adarte tapped the bat lightly against the floor once.
The sound echoed.
"Any last words?" Adarte asked, tilting his head.
Conrad met his eyes calmly and said nothing as always.
The announcer dropped his hand.
"Begin!"
Adarte moved first.
He didn't rush.
Instead, he stepped forward at a steady pace, bat swinging lightly at his side.
Conrad didn't move immediately.
He watched.
Ten reinforced his body evenly.
His eyes followed the bat, the shoulders, and the hips.
He wasn't looking for the attack; he was looking for the habit.
Adarte suddenly sped up.
The bat came up fast, aimed not at Conrad's head but at his shoulder.
A probing strike.
Conrad stepped back half a pace, letting the bat pass just in front of him.
He felt the air move. The strike was fast and heavy.
"Good weight," Conrad assessed. "He is using "Shu" to power up the Metal Bat."
Conrad went back for one second and used "Gyo" to see if anything was connected to Metal Bat or the environment.
Adarte didn't stop.
He rotated his wrist and swung again, lower this time.
Conrad shifted sideways, avoiding the blow by inches.
The crowd reacted, murmurs spreading.
Adarte's smirk widened.
"So you can move," he said. "Good."
He pulled the bat back and this time focused his aura sharply into it.
Conrad could see the change clearly now that Gyo had made it obvious.
"This isn't a simple brawler," Conrad realized. "He's precise."
Adarte lunged forward, bat coming down in a full overhead strike.
Conrad activated the Black Ring.
Black Ring—State of Calm
The shift was immediate.
His thoughts sharpened, clean and fast.
Time seemed slower not because it was, but because his mind was no longer cluttered.
Conrad stepped in instead of back.
The bat slammed down where his head had been a moment earlier, cracking the arena floor slightly.
Before Adarte could recover, Conrad moved into close range, his fist driving forward toward Adarte's ribs.
Adarte's eyes widened slightly.
Their first true exchange had begun.