Hunter x Hunter: The Strongest Zoldyck

Chapter 99 Successful Cultivation

As night fell, scattered starlight shone on the towering spire that reached into the clouds.

Countless dappled, bright lights echoed the starlight.

Amidst the dazzling lights, the Sky Arena appeared even more bustling than during the day.

From bottom to top, over two hundred floors, the noise of spectators and contestants could be heard from every floor.

"Seraphia, why hasn't the boss arrived yet?"

Beneath Arena A-7 on the 135th floor, the red-haired Fika and the Kurta girl Serapika were waiting.

"have no idea."

She uttered three words softly, and with her slender, fair right hand, she gently pinched the hem of her pale yellow dress.

It seems she isn't as calm as she appears.

Fica didn't notice this subtle action.

"Don't know?" he asked in surprise, then nodded knowingly as if he had remembered something.

"That's true. I don't even know where the boss is. How would you know? After all, I was the boss's first underling."

He touched his chin with his right hand, his brows furrowing slightly, as if he were seriously analyzing Roy's whereabouts.

"But I think the boss will still arrive, right?"

"After all, if he misses a match, he probably wouldn't be able to reach 200 floors in three days."

"In that case, that clown-like, eerie man will probably kill us..."

"

"In that case... it doesn't seem so bad. At least I won't be causing trouble for the boss anymore."

3

Towards the end of his speech, Fica's tone shifted from rising to falling.

He seemed to be asking Serapika, or perhaps himself.

The corridor fell silent for a moment.

Then... he heard a faint sound of footsteps.

It wasn't coming from outside the corridor, but from the end of the passage... from the dark depths inside the arena.

The footsteps were neither hurried nor slow, each step as if measured, even and steady, carrying a rhythm that gave people a sense of inexplicable peace of mind.

The soles of the shoes made a crisp tapping sound as they stepped on the stone pavement.

The sound came from afar, like some kind of countdown.

Fica's eyes suddenly lit up, and Serapika's fingertips loosened their skirt, curling slightly before quickly returning to calm.

It seemed they both already knew who was coming...

Slowly, at the end of the dark corridor, a figure gradually emerged from the shadows.

His short, silver-white hair gleamed coldly under the light, and his silver-gray eyes stared straight ahead, his expression as indifferent as a stagnant pool.

He wore a dark turtleneck coat, which concealed the lingering purplish-blue finger marks on his neck. His steps were unhurried, showing no sign of haste, as if he were not rushing to a life-or-death arena, but rather to an ordinary date.

Roy!

The distinctive short hair and silver-gray eyes made the two of them immediately recognize who it was.

It was their leader... Roy!!!

And three steps behind Roy.

A petite girl with blonde twin ponytails, her hands in her pockets, a fruit candy in her mouth, her cheeks slightly puffed out, skipped along.

He seemed carefree, his bright blue eyes occasionally sweeping over Roy's back, as if to confirm how much longer he would have to walk.

Fika opened his mouth, wanting to call out "Boss".

But then I found that my throat felt like it was blocked by something.

It wasn't that I was moved, or that I felt wronged, but rather...

He couldn't explain it.

I just feel that the boss's demeanor is a little different from what it was three days ago.

He couldn't quite put his finger on what had changed, but it just wasn't the same.

The thin mist in those silver-gray eyes had lessened, and a layer of light had appeared instead.

Serapika watched Roy approach quietly, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment before shifting away.

She didn't say anything, but simply stepped aside to make way for the path to the arena.

Roy stopped in front of the two people.

He glanced at Fica, then at Serapika, his lips twitching slightly as if he wanted to say something but didn't know what to say. In the end, he only uttered two words: "Wait."

It's not "I'm here," nor "Sorry I'm late," but rather "Wait."

Fica paused for a moment, then grinned.

That's more like what a boss would say.

Roy walked past him and took a step toward the entrance to the ring.

Behind him, Bisky stopped walking. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and gestured with her chin towards Roy's retreating figure like a little adult: "Remember what I told you, you can only use 'dots'."

"No other techniques can be used, whether they are from the Zoldyck family or anything else."

"Do you understand?"

Luo Yi paused slightly and nodded in response.

He then stepped into the ring area under the lights.

Floor 135, Arena A-7.

The lights illuminated the entire arena as bright as day, and the stands around it were packed with spectators, their voices rising and falling like a tidal wave.

Loy stood at the entrance, squinting to adjust to the glaring light.

The center of the arena was empty.

The opponent hasn't arrived yet.

Roy walked onto the ring alone, stood in a corner, and closed his eyes.

The moment I closed my eyes, memories of training in the Red Rock Grand Canyon surfaced in my mind.

First, it locks down... putting the body into standby mode.

Don't tense your shoulders, don't strain your forearms, and breathe steadily.

By engaging the distal joints of the fingers, every bit of force is precisely transmitted to the contact surface of the fingertips, which is less than one square centimeter in size.

laugh.....!

Roy shrugged slightly, relaxed his body, and opened his palm slightly, releasing a surge of power.

Soon he felt a subtle barrier between his fingers, a sensation of power being compressed at his fingertips.

Then... it's time to switch....

Roy opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping past the bustling square and looking into the void, towards the Red Rock Grand Canyon.

As I watched, his hands began to clench in mid-air like a shovel, and he started shoveling away non-existent soil, one shovelful at a time.

Once your fingertips break through the soil, you must immediately scoop the soil out.

If the transfer of power is even a beat too slow, the palm will lose strength, and the strength in the fingers will dissipate, resulting in the clod of earth slipping through the fingers and all the effort being wasted.

Amidst the repetitive and monotonous movements, Roy began to memorize the key points of his training.

Don't think about it, don't try to control it, let your body know when and which part of your body to use.

In this way, the power will automatically jump to where it is needed at the moment it is required.

Any deliberate attempt will cause the transmission of power to fail.

His gaze sharpened slightly, and Roy's feinting hands suddenly slowed...

But slowing down is not a standstill.

His hands were now as if immersed in invisible flowing water, the rhythm of his movements changing from rapid digging to gentle ripples.

The original sharp edges of each shovel stroke have been smoothed away, replaced by a smooth and continuous motion. The arc drawn by the fingertips leaves a faint afterimage in the air, as if it is not digging soil, but smoothing something.

Roy's gaze was unfocused on the crimson rock wall that didn't belong here, while his hands moved slower and lighter.

It was so slow it was as if someone had pressed a deceleration button.

Strangely, although the movements slowed down, the transmission of power from shoulder to elbow and from elbow to wrist became even clearer and more visible. It wasn't muscle movement that could be seen with the naked eye, but rather something invisible flowing along his arm.

A sharp-eyed audience member whispered among themselves, "What is he gesturing about?"

No one answered.

Even Fika couldn't understand what the boss was doing.

He only saw Roy's hands slowly flipping in the air, palms facing up, then slowly clasping down, fingers opening and closing, like a flower opening and closing underwater.

Serapika's gaze froze slightly.

She saw not just the slowness of the movements, but what lay behind that "slowness".

Every trace that Roy's hands drew in the air was perfectly natural, without a single unnecessary tremor or deliberate pause.

It's as if—these hands aren't being directed by the brain, but rather they know how to move on their own.

Biskey moved the fruit candy she had been holding in her mouth to the other cheek.

Her azure eyes reflected the figure of the silver-haired boy on the arena. The corners of her mouth curved slightly, very faintly and quickly, as if afraid of being seen.

"It's done..."

""

She said in a low voice.