Chapter 15: Northward Bound
While Ronin was resting and recuperating, Uvogin and his companions had evaded police scrutiny and regrouped inside a nearby residence.
The homeowners, a young couple, lay dead in a pool of blood.
"I got careless," Uvogin muttered, slumping onto the sofa. His eyes burned with frustration.
He wasn't surprised by Shalnark's arrival. The day before, he had received a message saying Shalnark and Nobunaga were coming to join him.
This was Chrollo's order. After Kortopi reported Ronin's unusual Nen abilities, Chrollo became curious. He had instructed Uvogin not to kill Ronin immediately but to bring him back for observation.
"Did he throw you off the airship?" Shalnark asked, looking at the battered giant. The corner of his mouth twitched, suppressing a grin.
It had been a long time since anyone had treated this bear of a man like a chew toy.
Uvogin didn't make excuses. "The kid was trying to kill me. If I hadn't spotted your puppet in the crowd, he definitely would have ambushed me right then and there."
A fall from a few dozen meters wasn't enough to severely injure Uvogin.
Lying on the tarmac looking weak was partly genuine—the impact had certainly rattled his insides—but mostly it was a trap. He was baiting Ronin to come in for the kill so he could counterattack.
Slippery little bastard.
That was Uvogin's honest assessment after failing to catch Ronin twice.
"He must have sensed something was wrong," Shalnark mused, genuinely puzzled. "But I'm curious how. My control over the cop was perfect. I barely even had him look in Ronin's direction."
"He learns fast, and he's paranoid," Uvogin shook his head.
Even though Uvogin had been restricted by the terrain on the airship hull, the strength Ronin displayed was exponentially higher than during their first encounter in the forest.
"Where was that airship heading?" Shalnark asked suddenly.
Uvogin thought for a moment. "The Northern Continent."
"The North... Was he running blindly, or does he have a destination?" Shalnark pondered.
Uvogin cracked his neck. "Catching him next time will be even harder. The kid is slick. If he wasn't a Kurta, I'd actually admire him. Brave, decisive, good combat instincts, and smart. Plus, he's arrogant enough."
"You rate him that highly?" Shalnark raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Uvogin nodded seriously. "I bet as soon as we left the airport, he hopped on another airship to get out of Yanshui fast. Tracking him down again is going to require your skills."
"It'll be tough to catch him in the short term. I checked the passenger manifest earlier; his name wasn't on it. He's traveling incognito." Shalnark shrugged. "Anyway, we have other things to do. Let's go meet up with the Boss."
"Other things? I thought the job was done once we got the eyes," Uvogin grumbled.
"Just tying up loose ends. The Boss thinks we might uncover some interesting clues," Shalnark replied.
Hearing this, Uvogin's grumpy demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of killing intent.
"Good."
"By the way," Nobunaga finally spoke up from the corner. "Next time you go hunting for him, count me in."
Ronin's abilities had piqued the swordsman's curiosity.
Next time they met, Nobunaga intended to cut through the real body, not just water clones.
The Republic of Padokea, Northern Continent.
Seven days after the attack, Ronin finally arrived at his destination after switching airships multiple times to throw off any pursuit.
Heavens Arena.
The city surrounding the arena was steeped in martial arts culture. Even in the taxi, Ronin could hear the driver chatting on the radio about who won or lost today's matches.
Advertisements for the Arena plastered every street corner. Burly men walked the streets openly displaying their muscles. Fighting was the fashion here.
The taxi driver wasn't particularly chatty, perhaps intimidated by Ronin's somewhat aloof, noble appearance.
When Ronin got out of the taxi, he looked up. From the base, he couldn't even see the top of the tower.
According to the brochure he picked up in the cab, this was the fourth tallest building in the world: 251 floors, standing 991 meters tall.
It was a state-of-the-art facility, hailed as the Mecca for fighters.
When Ronin arrived, the registration line snaked far outside the building.
It seemed hundreds, maybe thousands, of people signed up every day. It made sense; the brochure claimed an average of 4,000 challengers competed daily to climb the tower.
Ronin grabbed a form and joined the back of the line.
Under "Name," he wrote Ronin without hesitation.
Under "Experience," he scribbled 10 years.
He remembered Killua wrote "10 years" when he came here at age 12. But it didn't really matter. Heavens Arena had virtually no rules. As long as you knocked your opponent down, you won. Once you passed the 200th floor, even weapons were allowed.
Hence its less flattering nickname: The Barbarian's Sanctuary.
After handing in his form, Ronin walked into the colossal arena.
The roar of the crowd washed over him instantly.
The spectator stands were packed. Below, sixteen fighting rings were active simultaneously. Referees called out numbers, fighters stepped up, and the crowd cheered for blood.
Ronin's number was 2025.
He found a seat and watched the matches while waiting for his turn.
Around him sat other hopefuls, nervously waiting for their numbers to be called.
Ronin's plan was simple: Speedrun to the 100th Floor.
That would grant him a private room and enough prize money to cover his daily expenses.
From there, he would climb slowly, using the time to gather intel on the world, specifically looking for suitable Mafia families to rob or leverage.
He also planned to take the Hunter Exam.
A Hunter License was invaluable. It granted access to restricted information, travel visas, and funds.
The next exam wouldn't be until early next year, whereas the Yorknew Auction was in September.
He had plenty of time to prepare.