"Sadaso is seriously injured and unconscious, unable to fight. The winner is Jon!"
The announcement echoed through the arena like thunder, drawing a mix of reactions from the crowd. The female commentator blinked rapidly, microphone in hand, trying to process what had just happened. What did I even witness? she thought, stunned. On the surface, it had looked like Jon had been flailing around on stage, almost dancing. And yet… Sadaso was now unconscious, unrecognizable, and wrapped in a cocoon of thread.
To the untrained eye, it had been a boring fight—two lunatics doing nothing. But to those who understood the art of Nen, it was something for them to reflect on.
Despite not fully understanding what occurred, the result was clear: Jon had displayed an overwhelming level of strength. Whispers of admiration spread through the stands. A new star was born. The rookie had crushed his opponent in such an overwhelming fashion that it left even veterans shaken.
Applause burst through the arena… but so did curses and wails of disbelief. Dozens of viewers who had wagered everything on Sadaso were left devastated.
Among them were Sadaso's so-called allies—Gido and Riehlvelt—who had bet their entire savings on what they thought was a sure win. After all, wasn't Jon a Nen-less rookie? Now they were bankrupt, their faces pale with despair. If it weren't for the small benefits awarded to fighters on the 200th floor, they wouldn't even have the money for basic necessities—let alone new underwear.
Some people lost everything. Others made a fortune.
A few gamblers, speculators, or lucky hotheads who had placed faith in the mysterious Jon were now ten times richer than they were a few minutes ago. This rare upset had shaken the entire betting circuit of Heavens Arena.
And yet, not everyone could be bought by coin. Among the veteran fighters, some watched Jon with new wariness. They could tell—this kid wasn't normal. That power, the speed of his Stand's barrage, the force that knocked Sadaso out cold… it was on par with an advanced Enhancer. There was no way this was someone who hadn't awakened Nen.
Fewer challengers came forward after that match. Many who had planned to target Jon changed their minds. The audience couldn't make sense of it, but those who understood Nen could see the truth. Jon wasn't just strong—he was dangerous.
Still, others were less rational. Enraged that they had lost everything, bitter veterans and jealous fighters swore revenge. They didn't care how Jon had done it. They wanted someone to make him or that bum Sadaso pay. Rumors spread like wildfire. Meanwhile, Sadaso might not leave the hospital this year—if ever.
Jon, meanwhile, didn't even bask in the cheers. Without saying a word, he leapt off the stage and walked away, leaving behind a crowd of stunned spectators.
"Eh?! He's not even going to speak?!"
The audience was baffled. But Jon had no interest in theatrics. He had bigger things on his mind.
As he walked away, Jon opened his system menu. The reward for defeating a Nen user was unexpectedly generous. Not only had he unlocked a new Training Subspace, but he had also received a significant amount of gold coins. The training subspace he received was the Hell Climbing Pillars—the same brutal structure Joseph Joestar once trained on. The pillar would help hone his Ripple (Hamon) control to a whole new level.
Combined with the daily training bonuses he'd accumulated, Jon now had enough coins to purchase a Universal Card—an item that could grant him a new power or ability.
He didn't hesitate.
With a steady hand, he drew the card.
A moment passed.
And then—
His eyes widened.
Jon's emotions churned—part awe, part disappointment, and part... confusion.
"It's not a Stand card…" he muttered. "It's… just the body?"
The card granted him not a Stand itself, but the physique of a certain infamous JoJo character. Not known for his fighting skill… but for his durability.
Steely Dan.
This was the man who, without a Physical Stand, took a full seven-page barrage from Star Platinum and somehow lived to tell the tale. His body's defense was absurd—almost beyond human comprehension.
In the world of JoJo, only Father Pucci's stone face from Stone Ocean could compare.
Jon smiled. "Guess I just became a walking tank."
Despite his win, Jon was now on a mandated 90-day cooldown before he could fight again on the 200th floor. He wasn't reckless enough to go looking for more trouble right away—not with new attention and danger lurking around every corner. He didn't want to prey on weak newcomers either. No, he would rest. Train. Prepare.
Jon returned to the hallway outside his room.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
As he approached his door, he noticed a large man leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone.
Jon narrowed his eyes.
This corridor's usually empty. Who's this guy?
He started to walk past casually, not wanting to be rude. But then—
"Hi, man!"
Jon froze.
That voice…
No way. It couldn't be.
He turned slowly. The burly man was staring directly at him now, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
The man raised his fist, flexing his knuckles. Thud. Thud.
Jon's danger instincts screamed. This dude's vibe was way off.
"Stone Free," Jon whispered under his breath. The blue Stand shimmered into view behind him, threads twitching in anticipation.
"You lost money and came to collect debts, right?!" Jon snapped, trying to mask his nervousness with sarcasm.
The man laughed. "No no… don't pretend like you don't recognize me. You should know exactly who I am."
He stepped forward.
Jon's skin crawled. His eyes darted to the man's phone, catching a glimpse of the open page before it went dark:
"A certain man is too handsome. On the day of freshman registration, his roommate did THIS to him—"
Jon gasped. Confirmed. This dude was freaky.
He didn't hesitate. Jon backed up, ordering Stone Free to launch a flurry of thread attacks to buy him time.
"Wait—" the man raised a hand.
BOOM.
Jon's barrage was stopped cold. The air cracked as the man's counterpunch deflected Stone Free's threads with terrifying power.
"Damn it! Some people are trying to sleep here!" a tired voice called out from a nearby room.
The door creaked open… and immediately slammed shut after the man inside got a glimpse of the shockwave-ridden hallway.
"…Sorry. My mistake," the stranger inside muttered, now firmly resolved not to get involved.
Jon gritted his teeth. His pace had been broken. He felt like he was being pulled along by the rhythm of the man's movements, like he was trapped in someone else's tempo. Worse, Jon realized—this guy was still holding back.
I might lose, Jon thought. No… I'll die.
The man's energy shifted.
A wave of killing intent washed over Jon like a tsunami. Even Stone Free was knocked back, unable to withstand the sheer force of the aura.
Jon's breathing hitched. His limbs felt heavy.
Ren. This was the use of pure aura—the concentrated emission of will that could crush someone's spirit with its presence alone.
If not for Epitaph predicting that he wouldn't die in the next five seconds, Jon would have run without looking back.
The burly man spread his legs in a firm stance, grounding himself like a mountain. His hands formed claws, then paused in front of his chest as golden light erupted from his eyes.
The killing aura spilled across the entire floor like a raging storm. Doors trembled. Fighters inside their rooms held their breath, suddenly alert and full of fear.
Jon had been blown back ten meters, his back pressed flat against the cold wall. His heart was pounding.
This… this is the kind of fear that comes before death.
Then the man finally spoke.
"Now… will you listen to me properly?"
His golden eyes met Jon's. In them, Jon saw not cruelty—but immense power.
He was reminded of the time he'd faced the Baro Crocodile. That same sense of helplessness. No—this was worse. One wrong move, and he'll shatter me.
The man slowly lowered his hands.
"I am Wilhelm."
"The Floor Master of the 236th Floor."
"And the mentor assigned by the Hunter Association to teach you Nen."