When Joey reached the 100th floor, he received a 1 million Jenny payout.
That alone was enough to renew his motivation.
But from this level onward, matches could no longer be fought on demand. The arena had to schedule and promote each fight, often selling tickets and running broadcasts.
After all, starting here, Heaven's Arena was all about making money.
Strangely, Geralt's death hadn't stirred up much. Not even the large-scale explosions on the 200th floor had shaken the Arena's operations. There had been some chaos that day, sure—but the floors below kept running like nothing happened.
Joey entered the private rest chamber the arena assigned him.
It felt no different from a budget hotel room.
Not that he minded. After carefully scanning the room for traps or surveillance, he pulled a journal from his jacket.
Inside were detailed records—notes transcribed from every word Geralt's clone had said.
Joey had listened to the recordings dozens of times, writing down each line.
A sharp memory's no match for a dull pen, he always said.
This little book held not only his recollections of Hunter x Hunter's manga lore, but also the exact words spoken by every key figure he'd met.
Joey treated this journal like sacred treasure.
He even embedded it with Golden Experience's Nen, so that in case of emergency, it could sprout legs, flee, and self-destruct.
Geralt's final monologue had revealed far more than Joey ever expected.
For one, the fact that Ming appeared in NGL likely wasn't random—it may have been tied to Kakin.
Then there was the idea that the soul currently inhabiting Geralt's body came from outside—a remnant of some "Weapon" originating in the Dark Continent.
Ming, in that case, could be likened to a seed, spreading like a plant's spores.
Geralt had also mentioned a place: Zorkoai District. It sounded like a location from the Dark Continent, but the fact he could speak the name in recognizable language made Joey suspect it might even be recorded in V5's official archives.
The more Joey pieced things together, the more a name resurfaced in his mind: Gold & Silver.
One of the five officially documented Great Calamities of the Dark Continent.
A living relic. A monstrous plant-based weapon said to guard ancient ruins.
If Gold & Silver truly produced Ming as a sort of "spreading seed," then Ming's skin—now used to craft tools like Joey's wallet and Geralt's handkerchief—could hold terrifying, unforeseen consequences.
And if the weaponized souls could be transplanted into human skins, it explained Geralt.
Worse—Joey doubted Geralt was the only one.
Maybe Joey himself was an accident.
Neither his soul nor Kira Yoshikage's belonged to this world. The Ming skin that birthed him may have malfunctioned.
Back to the core problem:
The Weapons born from Ming were preparing to carry intelligence from Mobius Lake back to the Dark Continent. Their smuggler?
The Kakin Empire.
Which meant the B.W. voyage to the Dark Continent would absolutely contain some of these Weapons aboard.
Joey licked his lips.
He had no desire to hunt them down for justice.
But if he could harvest their Ming skins…
Each skin might represent a new Nen system—or become a training accelerant.
This realization made one thing painfully clear:
He had to board that ship.
If he wanted to know the truth about Ming… if he wanted to understand his own existence… the path led only one way:
To the Dark Continent.
Joey flipped the journal.
He had started compiling notes on the Succession War arc from memory, but it was a mess.
Too many characters.
Too many complicated Nen beasts.
Each with a unique ability, and most of them long forgotten.
Still, he scribbled everything he could remember.
According to the manga, before boarding, each Kakin prince underwent the Ceremony of the Egg in the Jar, which birthed their Guardian Spirit Beasts.
That got Joey thinking.
He'd been toying with ideas for making new Nen Beasts—and once asked Kite about the theory.
Kite explained what Joey would later call the "official doctrine":
Anyone with Nen can make a Nen beast. But its form and nature vary depending on the user's category.
In general:
Emitters and Conjurers created the most functional beasts.
Emitters had an easier time with detached Nen, meaning their beasts were typically basic constructs—think of animated dolls or gas-like spirits.
Cheap to make.
Simple to command.
Persisted over time.
Give it some extra Manipulation, and boom—easy Nen beast.
Joey's own Weather Report beast was based on this principle.
Simple to summon. Easy to use. Strong sustain.
Conjurers, on the other hand, built more defined beasts—often with self-awareness or autonomous functions.
Kite's Crazy Slot was a perfect example.
Want a weapon? Spin the wheel. But what came out wasn't up to him.
Joey realized:
Regardless of type, Manipulation was at the core.
Even if only for programming simple rules.
So that raised a question—
What if you built a Nen beast without Manipulation at all?
Kite hadn't offered an answer.
But Joey had a theory.
What if the so-called "Calamities"… the "Disasters" and even the "Hopes"… were all just rogue Nen beasts?
Created by people.
But no longer in control.
And if that was the case, then V5's strict censorship of Nen made perfect sense.
Without regulation, human desire would run rampant—birthing beasts that could end the species.
Joey scribbled across his pages for hours, finally setting down his pen with a sigh.
Is the answer to the Calamities really in the Dark Continent?
Maybe not.
Because if they let these things fester inside the wall, the damage would be just as catastrophic.
Even Mobius Lake couldn't shield them forever.
Still, it was all speculation.
For all Joey knew, the Dark Continent might hold entire sentient species humanity had yet to encounter.
Back to facts.
The Egg in the Jar ritual gave each prince a Nen Beast—but those beasts often couldn't be controlled by their hosts.
When Joey explained this theory to Kite, Kite admitted he'd never encountered it personally.
If Joey wanted deeper insight, he'd have to ask Ging.
When that answer would arrive? Who knew.
But Joey wasn't in a rush.
Even if nothing came of it, the attempt would still be worth it.
He stared at the words he'd scrawled across the page:
Board the ship.
At some point, he realized he'd started treating the voyage as a certainty.
Why?
He tapped his pen against his lip.
If Geralt was telling the truth…
Could he have a Weapon soul buried inside him?
Did it get erased when he absorbed Kira?
Or was it still there, waiting?
Was this urge—this obsession with going to the Dark Continent—even his own?
Joey drew a giant question mark in his journal.
Maybe I need to find a spiritualist-type Hunter.
Someone who understands souls.