Hunter x Hunter - Unlimited Abilities

Dardanes didn't hesitate.

He charged with an upward elbow strike—quick, aggressive, and smart.

He clearly thought Arin was another rookie skipping floors through showmanship.

But Arin stepped aside, not backwards, not panicked. Just a small step and pivot.

The elbow missed.

Dardanes snarled, dropped low, and swept Arin's legs.

Arin let it connect.

He hit the ground with a slap but rolled, minimizing the damage. His body stung, but he smiled.

"Good."

He didn't retaliate right away. He blocked. Dodged. Felt the pressure build.

Let himself feel like a weak fighter.

Dardanes was good.

About thirty seconds later, as the exchange continued, Arin's lip was split, and his shoulder was bruised.

But his smile was genuine.

His mind was on fire.

Every punch blocked taught him rhythm.

Every fake telegram taught him deceit.

Every movement missed taught him opportunity.

When the time came, Arin saw it.

Dardanes raised both hands to go for a high neck lock grip.

Arin ducked low and struck out with one finger only, a tap into the ribs.

He did not use his Nen in the whole fight.

Dardanes faltered. Just enough.

Arin twisted, raised a knee into his gut, and then swept Dardanes's legs out from under him.

The man hit the ground hard and groaned, wind knocked out of him.

The referee stepped in.

"WINNER: ARIN WALKER!"

The crowd didn't cheer. But they whispered.

Arin said nothing as he went back upstairs to the clerk.

This time the clerk woman gave him a bank card instead of just some coins.

-

The beep of the digital scanner echoed softly as the bank card slid into the slot.

Arin watched the small display on the device with neutral eyes, waiting as the numbers loaded.

"BALANCE: 50,000 JENNY"

He gave a nod and slipped the sleek, dark-gray card into his coat pocket.

"That makes it one hundred thousand total," he thought.

"Enough to live comfortably for a few months if needed. Or move again."

The woman behind the clerk's desk gave him a quick glance, as if expecting some sort of celebration.

Instead, he gave a curt "thank you" and walked away.

Money was never his end. It was merely a condition, a resource that could enable freedom.

Not long after, his name was called again.

The system moved faster here on the lower levels; fighters could get multiple matches in a day depending on their condition and demand.

And Arin was quickly becoming a name.

He stepped onto the arena floor once again.

His new opponent was already there, tall, composed, and wielding a long wooden staff with thick grips and iron reinforcements on either end.

Her name was Elfe, the screen said.

Arin activated Gyo silently and checked her flow.

Still no Nen.

Fighters like her are the ones I need, he thought.

They'll force my instincts to grow.

He shut off Gyo and stopped using "Nen" altogether.

The referee dropped his hand.

"BEGIN!"

Elfe didn't waste a second.

She spun the staff once, building momentum, and lashed out like a whip.

Arin ducked.

The staff whistled overhead with a crack of displaced air.

She twirled again, stepping in with a side arc aimed at his legs.

Arin leapt back just enough not to avoid but to let the edge of pressure graze his skin.

He wanted to know what a graze felt like.

He needed to understand what barely too late meant.

Elfe was fast.

Her reach gave her the advantage.

The staff hit the ground with force, kicking up dust, then came up again in a sweeping arc meant to disorient.

But Arin had already slipped under it.

A fast, efficient slide.

He drove his palm upward, hitting Elfe from below the chin.

"Thump!"

Her eyes widened.

Her feet lifted half an inch from the floor.

Then she collapsed.

The staff hit the floor beside her with a clatter.

The referee gave only the briefest pause before calling it:

"WINNER: ARIN WALKER!"

Less than an hour later, he was in his next match.

This time, his opponent was Walt, a burly, sweat-slicked man with a thick neck and a fighter's cauliflower ears.

A wrestler.

The moment the match began,

Walt lunged.

Low.

He went straight for Arin's legs, hands wide to grapple, aiming for a takedown that would end the match quickly in a choke or slam.

But Arin had seen this before—maybe not here, not in this world, but in the old one.

He waited until Walt was fully committed.

Then he twisted sideways, letting Walt's arms brush past him, using the man's momentum against him.

He dropped an elbow behind Walt's neck and followed it up with a knee to the temple.

Walt collapsed, blinking in confusion, unable to rise.

"WINNER: ARIN WALKER!"

Another slip printed. Another reward was loaded onto his Jenny Card.

Back in the hallway, Arin rolled his shoulder and breathed deep.

Three fights. Three wins. One day.

He sat on a bench near the water cooler, his shirt damp with sweat.

"230,000 Jenny in total, a great amount of money..." Arin thought.

His mind then went back to his opponents.

Elfe had speed and technique.

Walt had raw power and close-quarters focus.

They were different lessons, different tempos. But each fight had taught him something new.

The pressure of range.

The tactics of grounded movement.

The cost of a single misread opening.

And still he had not used Nen.

He was still forging the blade.

Once it was sharp enough…

Then he'd coat it in aura and draw it for real.

"Huh…"

"That was "Shu. "I think." Arin laughed at his own thoughts.

But for now, the silent rule stayed:

He'd fight again tomorrow.

Then rest.

Then again.

And once he is sure he understands the tempo of these early floors and makes enough money, he will not stop himself from reachinghigher-level floors.