Chapter 30: The Call from the Tower

May 1989. Four months had quietly slipped by since Mito returned from the 278th Hunter Exam, a licensed professional brimming with newfound confidence. On Whale Island, the rhythm of life deepened, becoming less about the frantic anticipation of a grand journey and more about the rigorous, almost meditative, pursuit of mastery. The early morning mist that typically clung to the peaks of the island had long since burned away by the time Kess and Mito concluded their first intensive training session of the day.

Mito, now a Hunter in her own right, attacked her Nen studies with a ferocity that both impressed and occasionally amused Kess. Her focus was currently honed on Ryu, the intricate dance of distributing aura across one's body for offensive and defensive purposes. Kess watched her closely, providing subtle corrections, guiding her through the subtle shifts in her aura flow. Her Ten had become impeccable, a solid, unwavering cocoon of aura that radiated a quiet strength. Her Zetsu was near perfect, capable of masking her presence with remarkable efficiency. But Ryu, with its demands for dynamic, instantaneous redistribution of power, was proving to be a challenge she embraced with relish.

"No, Mito," Kess's voice was calm, cutting through the humid air of their training ground—a secluded, flat expanse of rock overlooking the crashing waves. "Feel the flow. It's not about pushing the aura, but guiding it. Imagine water, flowing through channels. When you shift your weight, your aura should be there, waiting, before your fist even connects."

Mito nodded, sweat glistening on her brow as she held a defensive stance, eyes closed in concentration. Her aura rippled, a visible haze around her, then converged, thickening around her right arm. She threw a punch, a powerful, focused strike that cleaved through the air with a satisfying thwack.

"Better," Kess acknowledged, "but your left side drops slightly. Your Ren isn't maintaining enough pressure across your entire form. Remember, an opponent won't wait for you to focus. Ryu is constant readiness."

Mito opened her eyes, a determined glint within them. "Right. Constant readiness." She adjusted her stance, taking a deep, centering breath, and began again. She was relentless, fueled by an almost tangible desire to master every facet of Nen. Kess had pushed her hard, far beyond what she might have learned from conventional training, but she had met every challenge with unwavering resolve. He was genuinely proud of the Hunter she was becoming, a testament to her inherent talent and incredible work ethic.

Kess himself maintained his own rigorous training regimen. He spent hours refining his Inner Peace ability, pushing its limits, feeling the subtle shifts in his perception and the enhancement of his physical attributes. His movements were fluid, almost ghost-like, as he practiced his forms, each punch and kick delivered with devastating precision. He experimented with his own Nen abilities, trying to integrate them more seamlessly into combat, seeking new applications and combinations.

Yet, despite the fulfilling nature of their training, an underlying current of monotonous waiting flowed beneath Kess's daily routine. He was a money hunter, yes, actively seeking profitable ventures, but the truly lucrative or interesting opportunities remained scarce. The internet cafe, which he visited diligently, still offered only long-term contracts that would chain him to a single location or obscure, risky ventures that didn't align with his broader strategic goals. He was waiting, patiently, for the next critical trigger. He was waiting for Ging's return to Whale Island and the pivotal introduction of the two-year-old Gon to Mito, the event that would irrevocably alter Mito's life and solidify her role as Gon's foster mother. Until then, everything felt like prelude.

The distant chirp of his phone, a generic, unassuming device Kess had acquired shortly after arriving on the island, shattered the quiet intensity of their training session. It was unusual for anyone to call him, especially during training hours. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and walked towards his discarded shirt where the phone lay. He glanced at the screen. The caller ID glowed, displaying a familiar name, Heavens Arena.

Kess felt a flicker of irritation. A floor challenge. This was a disruption, an unwelcome deviation from his patient vigil. He took a deep breath, pushing down the annoyance. He had to answer.

Mito, ever perceptive, paused her Ryu practice, her head cocked slightly. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, were fixed on Kess. "Who is it?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. Such calls were rare, and Kess's slight hesitation had not gone unnoticed.

Kess tapped the accept icon. "Kess here." His voice was measured, betraying none of the internal frustration.

A calm, professional voice responded. "Mr. Kess. This is the Heavens Arena management. We are calling to inform you that a challenger has met the qualifications to issue a Floor Master challenge against you. Their name is Sawsan Samiya."

Kess's grip on the phone tightened imperceptibly. He listened, offering only a few terse "mm-hmms" as the details were relayed. When the call ended, he lowered the phone slowly, his gaze distant.

"Well?" Mito prompted, stepping closer, her Nen still subtly active around her. "Who was it? What's going on?"

Kess sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. "Heavens Arena. A floor challenge."

Mito's eyes widened, a spark of genuine excitement igniting within them. "A floor challenge? Wow! Who's it against? You?"

"Yes, me," Kess confirmed. "Apparently, someone named Sawsan Samiya accumulated ten wins on the 200th floor. That gives them the right to challenge one of the Floor Masters. And they chose me." He explained the rules of the challenge, how it was a duel for control of his floor, the 240th floor, and the prestige and privileges that came with it. "It's a big deal for them. A chance to become a Floor Master themselves."

"That's incredible, Kess!" Mito exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious. "You have to go! This is exactly what you need! A real fight, a chance to test your skills against someone new, and… well, the prize money for winning a defense isn't bad, right? You're always talking about asset acquisition."

Kess offered a wry chuckle, shaking his head. "Actually, Mito, there's no prize money for fights on the 200th floor or above, not for the Floor Masters defending their position. The big payouts are for those trying to get to the 200th floor and establish their wins. For me, losing this challenge means I lose my title as a Floor Master, and with that, the substantial monthly payment I receive just for holding the position. So, the stakes are my monthly income, not a one-time payout."

Mito's enthusiasm dimmed slightly, her face falling into a more serious expression. The bright spark in her eyes faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown. "Oh. Well, that's… less exciting for the money aspect, I suppose," she admitted, her shoulders slumping just a fraction. But then, her gaze sharpened, and her jaw set with determination. "Even so! You still have to go, Kess! It's your position, your reputation as a Hunter! You can't just let someone take it. And it's still a challenge, a real fight, like you said. You need to keep sharp!" Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. Her concern for his readiness and continued growth as a Hunter was palpable.

Kess listened, a faint tremor of internal debate running through him. She was right about the necessity of defending his position and keeping sharp. He couldn't openly refuse. How could he explain that he was simply waiting for the moment a two-year-old boy and his notoriously absent father would show up on their doorstep? How could he tell her that this entire intricate dance of his life was on pause, waiting for Ging to drop Gon off, setting into motion the events that would define Mito's life as Gon's foster mother? It was far too early for such revelations.

No, I can't say no, he thought, his gaze drifting towards the endless expanse of the ocean. Refusing would raise too many questions, too much suspicion. It would expose the true reason for my presence here, and the subtle manipulations I've been making. This is just a detour, a brief disruption. I'll go, I'll finish it as quickly and efficiently as possible, and then I'll be right back. He rationalized, convincing himself that a week, or even two, at Heavens Arena wouldn't derail his long-term plans. The timeline was robust enough to absorb such a minor deviation. He would just need to ensure he returned before the critical window opened.

With a mental nod, Kess raised the phone again, calling the Arena back. "Yes, this is Kess. I accept the challenge."

The professional voice on the other end confirmed. "Excellent, Mr. Kess. We will arrange the match in exactly one week. Details regarding the time and specific arena will be sent to your registered email address within the next 24 hours. We anticipate a significant public interest in this bout."

Kess ended the call. "They'll arrange the match in a week," he informed Mito, a slight edge of weariness in his voice. "So I guess I'll continue training here until then, and head out a day or two before."

Mito's brow furrowed, a look of strong disapproval crossing her face. "A week? Kess, that's ridiculous! You can't stay here! You need to go to Heavens Arena now! Get yourself acclimatized, get into the arena mindset, study your opponent's past matches, immerse yourself in the atmosphere. This isn't just some casual spar. This is a Floor Master challenge, Kess! It's serious. You need to be focused, prepared, and in the right environment. Don't be foolish. The sooner you get there, the better." Her words were firm, leaving no room for argument. Her concern for his readiness was palpable.

Kess let out a very deep, drawn-out sigh. It was a sigh that conveyed volumes of exasperation, of a carefully laid plan momentarily thrown off course, of a powerful individual reluctantly yielding to common sense. He knew she was right, logically. Waiting just made him restless. But he just wanted to be here, waiting for the pivotal moment. "Alright, alright, you win," he conceded, the words heavy. "I'll go immediately."

Within hours, Kess had packed a small bag, exchanged farewells with Grandma and Mito, and boarded the next available ferry. The journey back to the mainland was a blur, his mind already shifting gears, preparing for the inevitable confrontation.

Upon arrival in the bustling city surrounding Heavens Arena, he wasted no time. He navigated the dizzying array of elevators and escalators, the sheer scale of the massive tower still capable of inspiring a quiet awe, even in him. He made his way directly to his own floor, the 240th Floor. Stepping out of the elevator, he was immediately enveloped by the familiar, intense atmosphere of the higher floors. The air hummed with concentrated Nen, a palpable sense of power and ambition. The corridors were quieter here, the lights softer, the feeling one of hushed anticipation, a stage set for conflict. This was where the true monsters of the arena resided, and he was one of them.

Heavens Arena was already heavily promoting the upcoming Floor Master challenge. Large, vibrant holographic advertisements flickered in the main concourses below, displaying images of Kess and his challenger, Sawsan Samiya. News channels dedicated segments to pre-fight analysis, pundits debating strengths and weaknesses. The buzz was undeniable.

To distract himself from the persistent anxiety about being away from Whale Island and the critical timeline event he was waiting for, Kess immersed himself in studying the footage of his challenger. He spent hours in the private analysis rooms provided to Floor Masters, reviewing Sawsan Samiya's past fights frame by painstaking frame.

Sawsan Samiya. The name echoed in his mind. The challenger's fighting style was fluid, adaptable, favoring quick strikes and deceptive movements. Kess scrutinized every flicker of aura, every subtle shift in posture, every defensive maneuver. Yet, after hours of intense analysis, Kess found nothing of particular "value" – no obvious exploitable weaknesses, no clear tactical tells, no predictable patterns that he could immediately leverage. Sawsan's approach was solid, well-rounded. The videos did, however, reveal a fighter with a remarkably solid foundation in Nen, their aura control precise and disciplined. It suggested a deep, rigorous training background, leading Kess to speculate that Sawsan might even have been taught by a genuine Nen master. Despite his honed analytical skills, Kess found himself frustrated; he simply could not discern Sawsan's specific Nen type from the available footage. It was an enigma, and Kess hated fighting enigmas.

As the days crawled by, the silence of his vast, luxurious suite on the 240th floor began to feel hollow. He had grown accustomed to the lively presence of Mito, her eager questions, her focused concentration, her small triumphs during their training sessions. He missed the easy camaraderie, the shared purpose. Without her animated presence, the days at Heavens Arena, though filled with preparation, felt oddly empty.

He stretched out on the plush sofa, the muted sounds of the arena far below barely reaching him. He closed his eyes, a faint smile touching his lips as he imagined her. What is Mito doing right now? he wondered. Perhaps she was by the beach, pushing her Ryu even further, trying to feel the ebb and flow of her aura like the ocean waves. Perhaps she was back in the training room, refining her movements, chasing that elusive perfection. Or maybe she was just enjoying a quiet moment with Grandma, the familiar, comforting hum of their home life settling around them. He hoped she was doing well. He hoped she wasn't missing him as much as he found himself, surprisingly, missing her.