"I want to learn [Ren] too!"
Night of November 23rd. After Silva returned with Zeno from a mission, worried that any commotion would disturb Kikyo, he ordered someone to heat a barrel of water in his small training room for a simple bath to wash away the fatigue of the journey.
This time, the mission was to assassinate someone in the Kakin Empire. The target had a complex background, with an intricate network of connections behind them. The situation was unusually deep.
"Xiu-wu-wu... Ai-yi-yi... Jia-xia... Bei-lei-lian-di..."
When the royal family and the mafia formed a "government-gang entity" to rule the country together, even someone as accustomed to life and death as Silva still felt that, compared to "them," his own family was so clean that no one could find fault.
The man thought of Roy and Illumi, wary of them stepping onto the wrong path. His hands rested lazily on the edge of the wooden tub, letting his silver hair scatter and float on the water's surface. At a certain moment, his gaze sharpened and turned toward the window.
A small, deathly pale face slid down upside down from the eaves, staring at him with a pair of hollow eyes, and spoke from across the window.
Silva was speechless.
A corner of his mouth lifted, his voice cold. "You want to take me out too?"
Illumi's face was expressionless, but his heart felt like ants were crawling on it.
An itch he couldn't control.
With his long black hair cascading down like a ghost's, he said in a dry, raspy voice, "First, I'll take out Roy, then I'll take out you."
"Heh heh..."
Silva buried his head, his shoulders shaking.
When he looked up again, he had condensed a "Nen bullet" at his fingertip. With a flick of his finger, it pierced the glass and instantly blasted him away.
'You have to pick the right time and place to ask for lessons, you rebellious son!'
The old father's anger was spreading.
The night, trembling in its wake, fell completely silent.
At the same time, in a modestly sized, north-facing bedroom on the first floor of the old castle, a flickering light revealed the faint shadow of a figure hunched over a desk, studying diligently.
Grandfather Zigg's words had served as a wake-up call for Roy. There was no problem with his "soul-searching," and no problem with finding a worthy "reference object" for visualization. But when it came to interpreting his responsibility through "action," there was a major problem.
His current Nen was completely unable to withstand the "scorching" of the "sun."
It would be depleted within minutes, unfit for prolonged combat.
Under the lamplight, the youth frowned in deep thought.
Three notebooks lay open on the desk: one from Silva, one from Zigg, and one from Biscuit. Roy had even incorporated "Shingen-ryu" into his reference system, comparing them all as he tried to find a solution to his problem.
In the end, he summarized two reasons: First, his Nen was substandard in both "quantity" and "quality."
Second, his understanding of the "sun" was too shallow. He could only materialize "heat" and "scorching" into reality but was unable to manifest the deeper aspects of the "sun," such as "nurturing all life" or "commanding the tides."
"Young Master, have a glass of milk and take a rest."
It was already eleven o'clock at night. Having stayed up for several days in a row, Gotoh watched with concern from behind him and had the kitchen heat a glass of milk to bring up.
The weather was getting cold; something warm would be comforting for the stomach.
Roy rubbed his eyes and immediately stopped insisting, drinking the milk. After stretching his neck a little, he began to chat with Gotoh. "Is there anything in the notes you don't understand? Let's discuss it together."
Gotoh had copied a set and had been reading them for the past few days.
He chose his words carefully. "To be honest, Young Master, I already have a bit of an idea."
'Hmm?'
Roy looked over in surprise. "Let's hear it."
"Yes," Gotoh pushed up the glasses on his nose, recalling that night. The stars twinkled, dotting the night sky, but only a single meteor shot across the heavens, gone in a flash.
He smiled at Roy and said, "I set a Limitation and Vow yesterday. The moment you are in danger, Young Master, I will activate a self-destruct sequence, erupting with a hundred times my usual [Ren] to forcibly boost my Nen output and make up for my lack of talent. I believe I will be able to help you, Young Master."
To exchange a burning life for a moment of brilliance.
"You!" Roy stared blankly at Gotoh, utterly speechless.
Gotoh beamed, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. "There will be no need for you to search for me in the dust, Young Master. I will have already turned to ash."
Silence... was Kukuroo Mountain tonight. The evening breeze rustled the curtains.
Gotoh fell silent.
Roy slumped into his chair, looking at him in astonishment. After a long moment, he waved his hand. "You may go."
"Yes." The butler collected the cup, left the room, exited the old castle, and walked toward the butlers' villa on the mountainside.
He walked with his usual caution, afraid to disturb his master in the dead of night. He didn't know that a gaze was following him from behind until he left the garden, entered the mountain forest, and disappeared completely from sight.
Roy kept watching, having moved from inside the room to the hallway window. By then, the moon was high in the sky, nearing midnight, when it was at its brightest. Having lost sight of Gotoh, the boy looked up at the night sky. A meteor with a long, fiery tail shot through the stars, blooming beneath the heavens in solitary splendor.
The boy took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. 'Someone's plan is well-conceived,' he thought, 'but it's a pity...'
"I won't let you have your wish!"
A cold wind blew over.
Roy broke his gaze, rubbed his face to forcibly wake himself up, and threw himself back into his studies.
One day, two days, three days... During this time, after consulting his father Silva and great-grandfather Maha, Roy gradually grasped a line of thinking to solve his problems. If the "quantity" of his Nen was insufficient, he would continue to strengthen his "physique" to increase his "aura capacity."
If the "quality" of his Nen was lacking, he would use the training method recorded in Grandfather Zigg's notes—"Hookless Fishing"—using his imagination to shape his Nen into a fishhook and line to further strengthen his mastery of "shape transformation."
As for... his understanding of the "sun" being too shallow...
Roy thought of Sun Breathing, of Yoriichi Tsugikuni, of Total Concentration. He closed his notebooks, turned off the light, and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes without a second's delay.
'First things first, I'll completely inherit Yoriichi Tsugikuni's understanding of the "sun."'
That night, in the Zoldyck family's old castle, a certain boy with hollow eyes curled up in a pit in his bedroom, licking his wounds alone. A certain old man rocked in his rocking chair, enjoying cartoons. A certain man with silver hair falling to his waist carefully tucked the blanket corner for a woman, then gently rubbed her lower abdomen for a while. The woman hummed softly and turned over to wrap her arms around his neck.
The hushed night entered its latter half. The moon began to set in the west. Roy forced himself to sleep, and finally...
At one o'clock in the morning, he successfully entered the land of dreams. Passing through a vibrant dream tunnel, he arrived at his own sea of cognition.
The azure sea was boundless. The boy took off his jacket, ran a few steps, and simply plunged into the water, swimming freely to completely clear his cluttered thoughts. Only then did he get dressed and go ashore. He glanced at the locked "Gate to the Dark Continent" before turning to push open the door to the world of Demon Slayer.
The familiar sensation of falling washed over him.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw his own reflection in Makomo's beautiful pupils. He calculated the time. The New Year's festival was the day after tomorrow, and he had to go down the mountain to go home tomorrow. That meant...
Today was the day he would give his master the gift he had chosen long ago!
The boy's gaze went past Makomo to Sabito, to Shinsuke, to Fukuda, to all his senior brothers and sisters, and he climbed up from the heated brick bed.
T/n:
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