SWNOVELXO Chapter 86: The Floor Master
In the Sky Arena, Floor Masters held the highest status. Their reputation wasn't just about pride; it was their livelihood, the foundation of their earnings. If they ignored the challenge, it would look as if they feared Larry, a newcomer who had only just arrived.
A long-standing floor master, afraid of an upstart? That would be an unforgivable blow to their credibility, leading to plummeting income and shattered prestige. And Larry knew that. He didn't care about the formal process, where a challenger needed ten consecutive wins to earn the right to challenge a Floor Master and take their place. He wasn't after the title. He was after the fights. Experience was his real goal. Even if he never became an official floor master, it wouldn't matter. If he defeated every floor master, if he took down the champion of the martial arts tournament, if he beat the so-called strongest fighter on the 251st floor—then whether the Sky Arena acknowledged him or not, the public would.
Results spoke louder than rules. If he followed the traditional path, it would take far too long. By the time he reached the top, he would have already missed out on countless new Pokémon elsewhere.
The broadcast sent shockwaves through the audience. Some thought Larry was all talk, a brash loudmouth who didn't understand the weight of his words. Others saw him as a true fighter—fearless, confident, and possibly as dangerous as he claimed. His past matches only added to the mystery. Every opponent he had faced so far had been taken down in a single move. Nobody knew his limits, and that uncertainty made him even more intriguing.
Inside a dimly lit room, a pair of golden eyes gleamed with amusement. Hisoka watched the screen, his lips curling into a grin. "Heh... challenging the Floor Master, huh?" The flickering light from the TV cast eerie shadows on his face, making his already unsettling clown makeup look even more bizarre. Hisoka chuckled, a mix of amusement and anticipation lacing his voice. He understood exactly what Larry was doing.
For someone who didn't care about the privileges of being a Floor Master, this approach was perfect. Hisoka himself had never bothered applying for the position. It was a hassle, a bureaucratic process that didn't interest him. Yet, despite not being an official Floor Master, he had already left his mark in the Sky Arena. In fact, the only times Hisoka had ever "lost" were technicalities—matches he was disqualified from simply because he wasn't present. "What a clever little trick," Hisoka murmured, his grin widening.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder… was there even a point in Larry challenging the Floor Masters?
Would they really be enough to satisfy him?
Even the strongest among them, the current champion of the 251st floor, wasn't much of a challenge. Larry, on the other hand… now he was interesting.
Meanwhile, Larry had already left the press conference, not bothering to stick around for reactions. He had said what he needed to say. Now, he just wanted to enjoy the city's famous street food. The reporter he had blindsided was still standing there, dazed, struggling to process what had just happened.
The Sky Arena executives, on the other hand, wasted no time in making a decision. After a brief discussion, they chose to allow Larry's unconventional challenge. On one hand, his bold statements had drawn an enormous amount of attention. The audience was hooked. The idea of an outsider taking on the Floor Masters, one by one, was thrilling. Ticket sales were already skyrocketing.
On the other hand, since Larry wasn't technically following the Sky Arena's ranking system, there was no risk of him disrupting their structure. Even if he beat a Floor Master, he wouldn't replace them. That was confirmed after an official personally asked him about his intentions. Larry didn't care about the title. He just wanted the fights. With that reassurance, the officials had no objections. In fact, they doubled down and began actively promoting his upcoming matches.
The media quickly spun the narrative. What had started as a reckless newcomer throwing out wild challenges had now become a story of a warrior pursuing the pure essence of battle, untainted by greed or ambition.
The legend of Larry was already being written.
Sitting in a small restaurant, watching the news play out on the TV, Larry popped a bite of food into his mouth. He blinked at the screen, slightly taken aback. "Wait… so now I'm someone who 'pursues martial arts and doesn't care about fame or fortune'?" He wasn't sure whether to laugh or be impressed. Not that it mattered. As long as it got him the fights he wanted, they could call him whatever they liked.
***
Sky Arena, 237th Floor.
A woman stood in the middle of a lavishly decorated tennis court, her golden hair tied back in a short, practical cut. Dressed in a tennis uniform dampened with sweat from her daily training, she wiped her forehead with a towel, a few beads of perspiration clinging stubbornly to the tips of her hair.
Sally's sharp, European-featured face remained impassive as she watched Larry's interview on the TV screen nearby. A flicker of irritation flashed in her eyes. 'What a waste of time.' She didn't care for people who ran their mouths before proving themselves. If he was strong, fine, let him fight. But if he was just another loudmouth trying to stir things up, then he was nothing more than an inconvenience—one that would interrupt her training with pointless theatrics. The sooner someone shut him up, the better.
Sky Arena, 233rd Floor.
A massive man sliced through the water in his private pool, his strokes powerful and controlled. His dark skin gleamed under the bright lights, the jagged scar running from the corner of his eye to his chin twisting into something even more menacing as he smirked. Shaq surfaced, flicking water from his face as he caught a glimpse of the TV screen. Larry's face. His words. That cocky challenge. Shaq chuckled, low and guttural, the sound reminiscent of the predator he had been named after. 'Another fool trying to make a name for himself.' He could already picture it—the moment Larry would step into the ring, only to be torn apart. His lips curled back, baring teeth like a shark about to devour its prey. Larry wouldn't just lose. He'd be swallowed whole.
Sky Arena, 242nd Floor.
A woman sat gracefully in her private garden, the scent of blooming flowers filling the air around her. Butterflies drifted lazily through the warm breeze, landing on her outstretched fingers before fluttering away again. Her emerald-green robe, intricately patterned with nature-inspired designs, blended seamlessly with the thriving plants that surrounded her. Oddly, the flora near her seemed to grow at an unnatural speed, lush vines stretching toward the sunlight as if drawn by her very presence.
Lina's quiet gaze remained fixed on the television in front of her, watching Larry's interview with mild curiosity. Her delicate fingers traced the edge of a tea cup as she listened. "The one who comes here... does not come with good intentions," she murmured, her voice as soft as the rustling leaves around her.