Hunter X Hunter: I Got Stronger After I Died

In the Sky Arena, the most popular fighters often get nicknames from their fans.

This phase marks the transition from an ordinary audience to a loyal fanbase.

These nicknames are typically inspired by the unique traits fighters display in the ring.

Moro's common behavior during matches was to pause, reflect on his failures in counterattacks, and immediately work on a better response to lead his opponent into repeating their previous moves.

When facing opponents with impressive martial skills, Moro's bouts were marked by noticeably longer contemplation intervals.

Within days, the spectators who followed his matches unanimously accepted the nickname "The Thinker".

They even discovered an interesting pattern:

The longer Moro's "thinking time," the stronger his opponent.

During this period, Moro, now at the center of attention, began hearing fans cheer for "The Thinker" during matches. Many fans even approached him after fights asking for autographs.

The Sky Arena was famous for this—an environment brimming with fan adulation.

Given that matches often had live betting, many avid gamblers would naturally become die-hard fans of consistent winners.

Despite the noise, Moro remained indifferent to all the fanfare.

The nickname "The Thinker" felt more refined than something like "Hand Chop Killua" or "Palm Strike Gon" from the original story.

Yet, while Moro didn't care about the title, he was highly aware of the dangers of his growing fanbase.

Imagine a massive crowd of frenzied fans suddenly rushing toward him...

Such chaos would be the perfect opportunity for an assassin to strike.

If someone in the crowd pulled out an RPG launcher, Moro wouldn't even be surprised.

Moro had come to the Sky Arena for two reasons:

To sharpen his combat skills.

To openly invite retaliation from Nolan's forces.

However, that didn't mean he intended to give anyone a clear shot at his life amidst a crowd.

Fifth Day

After completing ten matches, Moro effortlessly reached the 100th floor.

The Sky Arena had several significant milestone levels:

1st to 100th floor – the first threshold for fighters to overcome.

At the 100th floor, the average fighter's strength significantly increased, and the benefits offered to contestants improved drastically.

Consequently, many fighters would use any means necessary to secure their place above the 100th floor.

Moro was fully aware of this.

However, over the next few days, as he steadily rose to the 160th floor, he encountered no interference or dirty tactics.

Perhaps his impressive display of unbreakable defense in the ring had intimidated the more unscrupulous fighters.

"I've gained a lot in just a short time."

After winning his match on the 180th floor, Moro returned to his room.

In less than ten days, he had fought 18 matches.

Each opponent was different, and Moro learned new offensive and defensive techniques from each bout.

Most importantly, his understanding of martial arts broadened, and he accumulated invaluable combat experience.

Interestingly, the observational skills Moro had honed in the antique trade were subconsciously applied in his matches.

By carefully watching his opponents' micro-expressions and body movements, Moro could predict their next moves based on subtle cues.

Ten days wasn't a long time, but Moro felt his growth was immense.

As someone who started with zero martial experience, he could fully appreciate his rapid progress.

The Next Day

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Moro stepped onto the 190th-floor arena.

Now that he had reaped significant benefits, he shifted his focus to reaching the 200th floor.

If he won two more matches today, he would ascend to the 200th floor.

"Thinker! Thinker!!"

"Hahaha, Thinker Moro! I'm betting on you again—don't let me down!"

"Go, Moro!!!"

The stands were packed, and most of the crowd was there specifically for Moro's fight.

Ticket prices had skyrocketed, with scalpers selling them for dozens of times the original price.

Typically, such fan frenzy only occurred in matches on the 200th floor and above.

Yet, Moro had sparked this level of excitement in just ten days.

This perfectly illustrated why countless ambitious fighters flocked to the Sky Arena—

It was the fastest way to fame.

"The moment we've all been waiting for—this highly anticipated showdown is about to begin!"

The commentator's enthusiastic voice rang through the arena, drowning out the clamor of the crowd.

"Entering the ring is the undefeated Thinker, Moro! And his opponent, who has also maintained a flawless winning streak—Sonic Fist Tagore!"

The moment the announcer mentioned "Sonic Fist Tagore," the audience erupted into deafening cheers.

"Tagore! Crush him! You've got this!"

"Screw that Thinker! Tagore, use your sonic punches to send him straight to hell!"

In the world of martial arts, strength commanded respect, and Tagore clearly had a devoted following of his own.

On the left side of the arena, Moro stood calmly, gazing toward the entrance.

A muscular man with a buzz cut emerged from the corridor, striding confidently toward the arena.

He was bare-chested, wearing yellow trunks and white bandages wrapped around his fists.

Moro observed Tagore intently.

For a brief moment, surprise flickered across his usually composed face.

Tagore...

Was a Nen user.

Moro's gaze shifted over Tagore's body, catching sight of the steady aura wrapped around his frame—a well-maintained Ten technique, indicating solid foundational training.

As their eyes met, Tagore's expression remained cold as he stepped into the ring.

"The Thinker..."

Tagore raised his right fist, emphasizing the word "ordinary" as he sneered, "Those ordinary people are blindly cheering for you because they don't understand the truth behind your performance."

His voice grew colder:

"But after today, your corpse will help them see reality."

"Corpse?"

Moro arched a brow, bewildered by Tagore's hostility.

For a moment, he wondered if Tagore had been sent by Nolan.

Tagore noticed Moro's puzzled expression and let out a sinister laugh, his eyes brimming with killing intent.

"Don't overthink it. I don't discriminate. On the arena, I only do one thing—kill my opponents."

"Is it really necessary to go that far?"

Moro's voice remained calm.

In response, Tagore slowly released more of his aura, which enveloped his muscular frame like a dense mist.

"If strength isn't used for killing, then it's meaningless. And the arena legitimizes that act."

Moro frowned in silence for a moment before breaking into a knowing smile.

Tagore's eyes grew even colder.

In the Stands

Many fighters who had previously lost to Moro, including the long-haired woman from the preliminary rounds, were present to watch the match.

They hadn't managed to maintain their winning streaks, so they paid special attention to fighters with rising momentum.

And they all knew about Sonic Fist Tagore—

A ruthless, bloodthirsty competitor who never spared his opponents.

"C'mon, Moro! Wipe the floor with that maniac!"

Even though they had all lost to Moro, they wholeheartedly cheered for him.

Moro's contemplative demeanor in the ring may have been frustrating to them, but compared to Tagore's murderous intent, they'd rather face Moro any day.

Meanwhile, amid the sea of cheering fans, one handsome man sat silently, his gaze fixed on Moro.

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Powerstones?

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