Gon's Harem System
Chapter 32: Milo again

Chapter 32: Milo again

Still, Gon couldn’t help but wonder how she intended to fight with such small blades in a competition likely filled with larger, heavier weapons.

Would she rely on speed and agility, darting in and out of reach before her opponent could strike? Or did she have some hidden technique that made those short swords just as deadly as any long blade?

Whatever the case, her choice of weapon only added to the mystery surrounding her, and Gon found himself eager to see her in action.

Gon’s gaze lingered on her long, flowing hair, and another thought crossed his mind.

Wouldn’t all that hair get in her way during a fight? It seemed like an obvious disadvantage, something an opponent could exploit in the heat of battle.

He imagined it whipping around as she moved, potentially snagging on weapons or even being grabbed in a moment of carelessness.

A sly grin crept across his face as he mused, "At least if they pair her with me, I’ll know exactly where to attack".

The thought was almost too easy, a weak spot so glaringly apparent that it felt like cheating to consider it.

But then again, if she had made it this far, she must have been prepared for such obvious vulnerabilities.

Perhaps there was more to her than met the eye.

Still, Gon couldn’t shake the idea.

Whether her hair was a weakness or a carefully calculated element of her style, he couldn’t help but file it away as potential leverage for the future.

For now, he would watch and wait, eager to see if this beautiful yet enigmatic contestant had the skill to match her striking appearance.

Another contestant caught Gon’s eye, sitting casually on a block of stone as though he owned the space around him.

His posture was relaxed, yet there was a quiet power in the way he carried himself.

His arms rested lazily on his knees, his back slightly hunched forward, but his sharp eyes darted across the room, missing nothing.

What stood out the most was the look on his face—a calm, confident expression that spoke volumes without a single word. It wasn’t the smugness of arrogance or the bravado of someone trying to prove a point.

No, it was something much deeper: the look of someone who was intimately familiar with his own abilities, someone who didn’t just believe he could hold his own but knew it without question.

His confidence wasn’t loud or boastful; it was quiet and unshakable, the kind of presence that could intimidate without trying.

There was no need for flashy gestures or unnecessary posturing.

He sat there like a boulder in a raging river—solid, immovable, and entirely in control.

Gon felt a flicker of intrigue.

This contestant exuded the kind of calm that came from experience, from surviving challenges that would have broken others.

He wasn’t here to make noise or seek validation—he was here to win, and he made no secret of it.

Gon couldn’t help but wonder what kind of skills and strength this calm confidence masked.

Gon’s eyes drifted to the man’s hand, where a golden gauntlet rested, its polished surface gleaming brilliantly under the morning sun.

The intricate engravings on the metal caught the light, almost seeming to pulse with a life of their own.

The way the man’s fingers flexed inside the gauntlet, casually testing its grip, sent a chill down Gon’s spine.

"I hope I don’t get him," Gon muttered under his breath, his words barely audible but heavy with unease.

The calm confidence the man exuded, combined with the gleaming gauntlet that seemed almost to hum with potential, made him a foe Gon wasn’t eager to face.

As Gon continued to contemplate the scene before him, he suddenly heard a sharp gasp from behind, followed by a groan of displeasure that cut through the quiet tension in the room.

The sound was familiar—something he’d heard before, though he couldn’t immediately place it.

And then, a voice, laced with irritation, broke the moment. "Oh, not this bum again!"

Gon didn’t need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to.

It was Milo, the boy he had fought the previous day.

The same brash, loudmouth who had no problem running his mouth, even when he had been the one on the losing side.

With a scowl forming on his face, Gon finally turned, meeting Milo’s gaze. "Oh yeah?" he shot back, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I’m the bum, but you had to be carried away in pain."

Milo’s face twisted with annoyance, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—resentment, maybe even embarrassment.

Despite his earlier bravado, he had been the one forced to retreat, his pride bruised. Gon could see it in the way Milo stiffened, ready to snap back with some biting comment, but this time, he held back.

For a moment, it felt like the tension between them was palpable, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Neither of them was willing to back down, but Gon couldn’t help but wonder if Milo had learned anything from their fight—or if it would be the same story all over again.

Milo’s face contorted into an equally fierce scowl, his eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and determination. "I underestimated you," he growled, his voice dripping with barely contained rage. "I won’t make that mistake again. Just pray they don’t pair us, because I won’t stop until you’re permanently injured."

The words hung in the air, thick with the weight of a promise, or perhaps a threat.

Gon could see the fire burning in Milo’s eyes, the same fire that had fueled their fight yesterday, and it was clear the boy hadn’t learned any humility from his defeat.

He had come back angrier, more determined, and ready to prove that their last encounter had been a fluke.

Gon, however, didn’t flinch. His expression remained steady, his gaze unwavering.

Permanently injured, huh? That was a bold claim, but it wouldn’t change anything.

If they were paired, Gon was ready.

He had no intentions of letting the outcome repeat itself, but he knew better than to let Milo’s threats get under his skin.