That was the girl who'd been raped and murdered. And the Nen users Harrison had brutalized.
Roy understood now. Grandpa Zeno once said: those who die unjustly often leave the deepest grudges.
And sure enough, the girl—though not even a Nen user—was the most solid figure among them.
'That's the power of hatred.' Roy lifted his foot and stomped on Harrison's skull.
Without Nen reinforcing it, the so-called iron body collapsed like rotten mud.
The phantom girl and the Nen users bowed deeply to him. Then she stood tall, took one last, reluctant look at the world, and faded into glowing specks—absorbed into Roy's body.
"What was that?" Yungu asked, confused.
Biscuit said nothing, only stared at Roy in deep thought.
[Notice: Life Energy +10]
The system panel flashed. Less than expected.
Probably the difference between fugitives and terrorists—the latter caused more harm.
Roy frowned slightly. Unsatisfied. Even irritated.
He leaned on his cane-sword, foot on Harrison's corpse, eyes scanning the crowd coldly.
Guy and Kikuta both lowered their heads, pretending to see nothing.
"Trash," Wutong sneered.
"You—!" The two flinched under his glare. The seats felt like they were burning beneath them. Unable to stay, they fled the arena in shame.
"Ninety days might not be enough," Biscuit mused, hand on her chin.
"Then make it one-eighty," Yungu replied, pushing his glasses up with a smile.
"A wise man adapts. If Master says when to fight, I fight."
"Good boy~" Biscuit patted his head, winking. "You won't go up there just to get beat up, promise."
"Iluo… Iluo…"
As the gamblers stormed off in fury, cheers for Roy finally took over.
He glanced at the fleeing Guy and Kikuta, then casually toward the corner of the wall.
There stood two boys—one calm, one gritting his teeth. When Roy looked their way, both turned and disappeared into the crowd.
It was time to leave.
Roy stepped off the stage, bathed in light and thousands of eyes.
Yungu had taken his old seat. When Roy passed by, he stood and said, "Congratulations."
Roy paused, looked at him. "No time like the present. You can challenge me now."
Yungu coughed awkwardly, but Biscuit cut in, "Hey, Roy. Want to join Shingen-Ryu under me?"
"You know our master's humanity's strongest, right?"
"No thanks."
Roy remembered the dream under the willow—the mess Netero ran into because of Grandpa Zigg. If he switched schools now and the old man got pissed, who knew what'd happen?
He wasn't betting his life on that.
"What a shame," Biscuit sniffled, forcing out two tears. She lunged with tiny arms spread wide.
Roy blocked her face with one hand, holding her at bay as she flailed.
He didn't have time for this. He turned to Wutong. "We're leaving."
Then let go of Biscuit and left the stands, heading to his room.
With Harrison dead, Roy had qualified for the 200th floor. Room 1991 wouldn't cut it anymore. Once officials assigned him a new room, he'd move.
Step. Step.
Master and servant walked the corridor. Then they stopped.
Before them, a somewhat expected—yet still surprising—figure.
"Please take me as your student!"
Thud! Huaishi Dourou dropped to his knees before Wutong, bowing so hard his forehead hit the floor.
Wutong froze. Then turned to Roy. "Young Master, maybe we should kill him after all?"
Roy said nothing. Left it to him.
The young butler looked at Roy again, then raised a foot, toe lifting Dourou's chin. "Can you transform?"
Roy had said he wanted someone not worse than Biscuit—a tool who could fly, run, jump, swim.
"…What?"
Huaishi was totally lost.
After a pause, he stammered, "Transform? Like… that rubber guy Morris?"
He glanced nervously at Roy. Then nodded hard. "I can! If you teach me, I'll do it!"
'Best if I could turn into a tank and blast you to hell,' he muttered inwardly.
"Young Master?" Wutong asked.
"You decide."
So in the end, Enhancement-type Huaishi couldn't escape the fate of training in the wrong Nen class.
Roy stepped past him, amused.
At least one thing was clear—once you entered the Zoldyck household, even dying wasn't easy.
Click.
Roy opened the door and stepped inside.
Wutong followed, withdrawing his foot, and tossed back, "Start as a trainee butler."
"Yes!"
Huaishi clenched his fists, stood, exhaled hard, and stepped into the room behind them.
The hall light cast a shadow, stretching from his heels.
At the far end of the hallway, a pale face peeked around the corner—watching Huaishi enter Roy's room.
Illumi's dead-fish eyes narrowed slightly.
Once they were gone, he peeled off a chunk of wall plaster, revealing solid cement underneath.
"Dance of the Raging Sun... Clear Blue Sky... Radiant Mirror... Steam Train…"
Dusk fell. Roy was alone in the room.
Wutong had originally booked flights for just the two of them. But with Dourou now tagging along—and fearing Roy might not be properly cared for if left behind—he took him to buy another ticket and grab dinner.
It gave Roy time to train.
After finishing a set of Sun Breathing forms, he exhaled deeply and began undressing.
Then his eyes sharpened. He turned toward the window, cane-sword thrusting straight forward—stopping at the glass.
Just beyond the pane—suspended upside down—was Illumi.
The blade hovered a hair's breadth from his nose.
The sunset bathed them in gold. Illumi could smell death.
He stared at Roy silently. Then rasped, "Who was that?"
"Who?"
"The one you brought into your room today."
Roy sheathed the blade. "Oh, you mean Huaishi Dourou."
"Kill him."
"Why?"
"No reason."
"Then it's none of your damn business." Swish!
Roy yanked the curtains shut—cutting Illumi off completely.
In the falling dusk, foolish Ododo clung to the window like a spider, swinging in the wind… and looking like he might fall at any moment.
T/n:
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