Gon's Harem System
Chapter 71: Gon fainting

Chapter 71: Gon fainting

Gon’s heart pounded like a war drum in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears as the deafening roar of the crowd washed over him.

he air was thick with energy, a mixture of anticipation, excitement, and the lingering scent of sweat and adrenaline.

The voices of the spectators rose in a wave of cheers, whistles, and applause, their enthusiasm pressing down on him like an invisible force.

The adrenaline still surged through Gon’s veins, a relentless current that kept his senses razor-sharp yet oddly distant, as if he were floating just outside of himself.

His body still tingled from the rush, every nerve alive with energy, yet the world around him felt strangely muted, like he was watching everything unfold from behind a thick glass pane.

The roaring crowd, the flashing lights, the lingering echoes of his opponent’s movements, all of it felt detached, distant, as if it belonged to a reality separate from his own.

His breaths came fast and shallow, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with the lingering intensity of battle, but even that sensation felt foreign.

His fingers curled into a fist at his side, as if testing whether they still belonged to him.

As the deafening cheers and applause gradually faded, a hushed anticipation settled over the arena, like the calm after a raging storm.

Gon’s pulse was still racing, but the world around him was beginning to sharpen again, the detachment slowly melting away.

His ears were still ringing from the crowd’s energy, but through the lingering haze, a clear voice cut through the silence.

"NEXT MATCH! MILO VERSUS TROIS!" the announcer’s voice echoed through the arena, carrying an air of excitement and authority.

The crowd cheered loudly.

Gon’s breath hitched slightly at the name. Milo, the same boy he had fought before.

Gon’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly as realization struck him.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was glaringly obvious, Milo and Trois were the only mages left who hadn’t fought.

Every other participant had already stepped into the ring, clashed, and proven their strength, but these two had remained untouched, waiting for this moment.

Milo’s battle stance was still fresh in Gon’s memory, his quick reflexes, his sharp tactics.

Gon remembered now, Trois had already fought once before, and she had won convincingly.

Her movements had been precise, as if she had complete mastery over her abilities.

She hadn’t just overpowered her opponent, she had outclassed him, controlling the pace of the battle with an effortless grace that left no room for doubt.

Then Gon shifted his gaze to Milo, studying him with a grudging sense of respect.

He hated to admit it but Milo was skilled.

Not just in a way that made him formidable, but in a way that made him dangerous.

The way Milo moved, his sharp instincts, his ability to read his opponent, it was all proof of someone who had trained relentlessly, honing his mana into something precise and efficient.

He didn’t waste unnecessary energy, nor did he allow his emotions to dictate his actions.

Every move he made was calculated, deliberate, as if he had already planned ten steps ahead.

Now, standing in the ring, Milo looked as composed as ever.

There was no visible tension in his stance, no sign of uncertainty.

His breathing was steady, his eyes locked onto Trois with quiet focus. It was clear he wasn’t underestimating her,he knew just as well as everyone else that she was strong.

Gon exhaled slowly, a flicker of excitement sparking within him.

This was going to be a long and grueling match, one that wouldn’t end quickly, nor cleanly.

Neither Milo nor Trois was the type to crumble under pressure.

They were both skilled, both precise, and neither would give the other an inch without a fight.

The battle ahead wouldn’t just be a clash of strength, it would be a war of endurance, strategy, and sheer will.

The tension in the air was palpable as Milo and Trois locked eyes, their bodies coiled like springs, ready to explode into motion.

Then, in a blur of speed, they lunged at each other, magic crackling in the space between them.

But before Gon could see what happened next, the world around him tilted.

A sudden wave of dizziness crashed over him like a tidal wave, knocking his senses off balance.

The arena, the crowd, the fight, it all seemed to shift unnaturally, as if the ground beneath him had disappeared.

His vision blurred at the edges, the colors blending together in a nauseating swirl.

A strange weightlessness overtook him, as if he were falling even though his feet were still planted firmly on the ground.

His breath hitched, his pulse spiking in alarm.

He reached out instinctively, grasping at nothing as his knees threatened to buckle.

The sound of the crowd, once deafening, now felt distant, muffled, as though he were being pulled away from reality itself.

What was happening to him?

He forced himself to focus, to steady his mind, but the sensation only worsened.

His body felt detached, like he wasn’t fully there.

The world was tilting, spinning...

Gon clutched his chest, his fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as a sharp, suffocating pressure constricted his lungs.

Each breath felt like a battle, the air refusing to fill his lungs properly.

Panic surged through him as his vision wavered, the edges darkening, his body growing weaker by the second.

He staggered, his knees buckling beneath him, but he barely registered the sensation.

The world around him was slipping away, the roaring crowd nothing more than a distant hum, the sight of Milo and Trois locked in their fight now an abstract blur.

His heart pounded erratically, a frantic rhythm that seemed out of sync with the rest of his body.

A ripple of confusion swept through the arena, subtle at first but quickly growing into a wave of murmurs as people began to take notice.