The man’s eyes lit up.

"An express line, you say?"

"Pay up and find out."

The young man hesitated for a moment, then handed over the money.

Moments later, several burly men showed up.

He began to panic—but surprisingly, the strongmen didn’t harm the young man. Instead, they escorted him straight to the front of the line, shoving their way through the crowd.

"For real?" the youth asked. "This is your so-called express line?"

"Hey, I never said it’d be classy—just fast."

Fast it was. But the crowd wasn’t having it.

They jeered, hurled insults.

Some of the curses were too crude to repeat.

The young man kept his head down, pretending not to hear a thing. As unpleasant as it was, he wasn’t about to part with the money he’d just spent—or the shot at a ticket he might not get otherwise.

...

The match between Kaizen and Hisoka had stirred up a frenzy across the arena.

Inside the VIP lounge labeled "950," Hisoka sat tucked in a shadowed corner. The edges of his lips curled upward.

His eyes narrowed to slits, and an eerie aura shimmered around him like a coiled predator.

"I can hardly wait," he murmured.

"Kaizen... what kind of surprise will you give me this time?"

"Tomorrow... hurry up and come."

...

Ponzu didn’t show up that night—likely not wanting to disturb Kaizen’s focus before the big fight.

...

By the next day, before the match had even started, a massive line had formed at the venue’s entrance.

Kaizen’s fans. Hisoka’s fans. Casual viewers. Fighters from Heavens Arena. Brawlers from underground dojos...

The stands were packed long before the start bell.

Even the private rooms reserved for floor owners were nearly full.

The announcer’s voice rang out with booming energy, hyping the crowd and recapping Kaizen and Hisoka’s match history.

Not that it was necessary.

The crowd’s excitement was already at a fever pitch. With names like Kaizen and Hisoka on the bill, the anticipation spoke for itself.

...

"I’m dying to see how far this will go."

"A battle at the Floor Master level."

"Definitely on another tier compared to that scuffle between Kastro and Killua the other day."

Killua’s expression soured slightly at the comparison.

But he couldn’t deny it. The gap was real.

...

Gon, still wrapped in bandages, sat beside Killua and Zushi. Wing was seated at the end of the row.

All four of them stared toward the ring, expressions serious.

"This arena’s way bigger than ours," Zushi muttered.

"Well, Kaizen and Hisoka are way stronger than us," Killua replied. "This is a Floor Master-level battle. Whole different league."

...

Sadaso, Gido, Riehlvelt—even Kastro—were scattered among the crowd, each seated separately.

Doppo, and several other Floor Masters had also shown up.

Nina. Shizuku. Familiar faces dotted the audience.

...

Chatter rippled across the stands.

"Who do you think will win?"

"Hisoka or Kaizen?"

"Kaizen hasn’t fought in a while..."

"Back then, he was already crazy strong. He’s probably gotten even better. Still young, still growing fast."

"Don’t count out Hisoka though. The matches he’s fought so far were more like warm-ups."

"Yeah... he hasn’t shown everything yet."

...

Then, the host took the stage again, voice filled with showbiz bravado.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we know why you’re here today!"

"I’m as excited as all of you, but before the match begins, let’s give a quick intro to our fighters!"

"First up—our challenger!"

"Hisoka!"

"He stormed onto the 200th floor with overwhelming force."

"Win after win, dazzling performances."

"Every fight? A spectacle! Like watching a magic act!"

"Let’s welcome—Hisoka!"

Hisoka strolled out from the player tunnel, casual as ever.

Applause exploded.

"Hisoka! Hisoka!"

Hisoka’s twisted charm clearly still had fans. Some people are drawn to danger—to that gleam of madness. Even perverts and killers have their cult followings.

Hisoka’s unnerving aura, paired with his striking looks, earned him both fascination and fanfare.

...

The host’s voice rang out again.

"And now—our reigning Floor Master!"

"Kaizen!"

"Years ago, he reached the 200th floor without a single loss."

"Back then, he was only nine years old."

"That record still stands."

"Sure, others have reached the 200th floor young—Killua did—but Kaizen made it without losing a single match."

"And since entering, every match Kaizen has fought—aside from those he forfeited for personal reasons—has ended in victory."

"He’s cleared multiple Floor Master challenges, always winning."

"In short: Kaizen has never lost an official match at Heavens Arena."

Gasps rippled across the crowd.

"Never lost?!"

"Then Kaizen’s basically undefeated?"

"That’s insane..."

...

The host raised his voice for the final introduction.

"Let’s welcome—Kaizen!"

As his name rang out, Kaizen emerged from the opposite tunnel.

It was all part of the Arena’s showmanship.

He didn’t mind playing along.

The stadium erupted with cheers.

"Kaizen! Kaizen!"

Kaizen had more fans than Hisoka—no surprise. His demeanor was serious, not creepy. His appearance more youthful, more polished.

Hisoka’s appeal drew in a niche, but Kaizen? Kaizen had the kind of star power that attracted the masses.

It’s the same everywhere—even in the entertainment world.

When too many stars share the same "persona," fans are split.

But when there’s only one person owning a role—like "young prodigy"—their fandom dominates.

And Kaizen? He owned it.

------------

Fanfic is completed on patreon.com/FanficsHub (1047 Chapters in total)