"Hey~! Stop looking down on people like I'm a child playing with sticks."
Roy's words were casual, but they echoed through the Zoldyck courtyard like thunder rolling through a valley.
Jeno's face twitched. He let out a low, furious laugh.
"Brat, fighting isn't a game. It's not as simple as slapping your palm down. I admit you're improving fast, maybe even too fast. Some days, you scare this old man."
"But if you think you can beat Wutong in a single move, just because you've got a fancy ability… then you're daydreaming boy!"
He glanced at Wutong, the silent chief housekeeper, whose cold gaze hadn't wavered since stepping forward.
Jeno raised his voice like a commander delivering judgment:
"Wutong, use your full strength. Teach him a lesson he won't forget!"
The tall, stoic butler nodded silently, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck with a crisp snap. His aura swelled in an instant—a smooth, transmuted energy crackling like invisible static. His presence shifted. Calm, grounded, dangerous.
Wutong didn't speak. He was a man who believed in action, not noise. From intern to chief housekeeper of the Zoldyck family before the age of thirty—his path was paved in sweat and skill, not nepotism. His Nen mastery and physical prowess placed him easily in the elite tier of Zoldyck operatives.
Roy, however, yawned.
With his blind eyes half-lidded, he tilted his head, listening not with ears—but with observation.
"[Name: Indus (Wutong)]
Bone Age: 31
Strength: 77
Speed: 60
Aura Capacity: 110
Nen Type: Transmuter
Talent Tier: Mid-Elite]"
"Hmm… about Killua's level when he gets serious," Roy muttered.
"But I'm just not interested in playing with ants today."
He didn't even move his feet. Roy raised his right hand lazily… and slapped down the air.
In that moment, space bent.
A gravitational field exploded downward from his palm—purple lightning crackling in a spiral as if the heavens themselves were being dragged down. Wutong's eyes widened too late.
BOOM!!!
The force slammed into him like an invisible mountain from the stars. A shrill sound of compressed wind screamed as Wutong's body smashed into the ground—spiderweb cracks spread like a curse beneath him, erupting in a ten-meter-wide crater. Dust burst into the air like smoke from a volcano.
The ground trembled.
Birds fled.
Jeno's pupils shrank.
"What?! That's—Gravity Manipulation?! Fifty times normal gravity?!"
Wutong tried to move. His limbs strained. He pushed his Nen into every muscle fiber, trying to resist the unseen weight bearing down on him.
But the gravity beam pulsed again. From within it—arc-flashes of violet lightning arced down like divine punishment, sizzling across his aura defenses and piercing through his Nen armor.
His mouth opened, but no sound escaped. He was pinned like a butterfly under a steel slab.
"Damn it, focus!" Jeno barked, leaping back to avoid the residual shockwave. "Reinforce your aura—strengthen your limbs!"
But it was too late.
Roy's voice dropped cold.
"Still struggling? If you don't want to spend the rest of your life on a ventilator… give up."
The words sliced colder than the storm.
Jeno's face turned pale.
That phrase… he had said something eerily similar just moments ago.
His fists clenched, teeth grinding.
"Stop," he growled at last. "This old man… misjudged you."
Roy slowly lowered his hand, the gravitational field dissipating like smoke in wind. The oppressive force lifted instantly, the pressure vanishing.
"Haaaah—!"
Wutong gasped like a drowning man breaking the surface. Bruised, soaked in sweat, clothes torn and scorched with lightning marks, he struggled to climb out of the crater.
Then, with surprising grace, he lowered his head and knelt deeply.
"Thank you, Young Master Roy… for sparing my life."
"Indus admits defeat!"
Even his voice trembled.
Jeno, who had watched it all, stood stiffly, eyes twitching.
"A De-Nen Master…" he muttered. "An Exorcist? That rare ability… only appearing in legends. And he—"
He could no longer hide his awe, or his regret.
His grandson… was a walking natural disaster.