Chapter 26 – Stubborn Father & Son × Stubborn Brothers
"Hohoho… the child has grown, wings are hardening now…"
Inside the dimly lit bedroom, Maha rocked gently in his chair, smiling at the cartoon on screen. For a split second, his ears seemed to enlarge unnaturally, then instantly shrink back down—an eerie, almost supernatural quirk.
On the TV, the show Stubborn Father and His Stubborn Son was playing—father and son screaming over a toy, the father already reaching for the belt at his waist…
"Creak~" The door opened. White-haired Zeno rolled in a food cart.
"Grandfather seems to be in good spirits today."
The cart stopped, lids lifted. As usual, there was red wine-braised beef with vegetable soup-soaked bread—but today, there was also a dish of minced pork with eggplant.
"The chefs tried a new recipe. Said Roy came up with it. Since you like eggplant, I brought a plate over."
Zeno had sampled it in the kitchen himself. Surprisingly good—flavors he'd never tasted before.
"Hoho… what an honor, to have someone as busy as you serve me food. Remarkable, remarkable…"
Maha squinted, pretending to doze, swaying in his chair, voice dripping with mockery.
Zeno didn't react. He tore bread into the soup, then casually moved behind Maha, kneading his shoulders.
"Kikyo was poisoned. By a new steward in the kitchen."
"Silva checked him. Clean background. Honest man. No vendetta against us. Pure coincidence…"
"You know better than anyone. What we fear most aren't enemies—it's coincidences."
Maha groaned softly as the massage pressed deeper into his shoulders.
"So in the end… you're worried the curse will fall." His voice was slow, heavy. "If it's fate, you can't dodge it. Worry's useless."
"Grandfather is right."
"I didn't say that to teach you anything. I just find you irritating."
"…Do you find Roy irritating?"
"He's my good great great grandson. Can you compare?"
"But I'm your grandson."
"You?" Maha tilted his chin, pointing lazily at the door. "Get out."
And so, Zeno was unceremoniously kicked out, dusting himself off in the corridor.
Grandfather was still Grandfather. That alone was enough.
He wasn't angry. If anything, a faint smile curved his lips as he lingered outside the door, before strolling down the ancient corridor with his hands clasped behind his back. Without realizing, his steps carried him toward Roy's quarters.
---
Roy had just taken Yukizō from its stand when he turned a corner and spotted him.
He bowed slightly. "Grandfather."
The boy's black hair caught the sunrise, glossy and thick—so much like Zeno's youth that for an instant, the old assassin felt himself dragged back to those lost, green years… years he often longed for when waking from dreams.
Zeno's eyes swept over him, pausing on the blade, then he made a vague sound of acknowledgment and walked past.
"That sword's fine steel. Shame it once served a worthless master. He offered me a hundred million to kill his teacher. I judged the deal poor value, so I killed him instead. Hopefully this time, the blade won't follow the wrong man."
His silhouette shimmered—one blink and Zeno was gone, like he'd vanished into thin air.
Roy stayed behind, stroking Yukizō's sheath. Gotoh had told him of its history. He stood there until the morning sun stained his throat with red-gold light, then finally turned away, heading toward the training hall.
---
Inside, the butler Luke was already waiting with a baton crackling at one million volts.
When Roy stepped in, Luke bowed deeply. "The master has ordered—your training load will be doubled from today."
Roy's eyes narrowed. "Wasn't morning training canceled?"
Gotoh had told him earlier—the brothers were to undergo Nen category testing this morning. No way Luke didn't know.
"Only Young Master Illumi is exempt. You… are not."
Roy gave him a long, steady look. Then, abruptly, he felt it—eyes on him.
He turned sharply toward the window.
There stood Silva. Immense and silent, the bulk of his body seemed to blot out the rising sun, his gaze fixed coldly on his son.
Roy finally understood—Silva had overheard everything he told Gotoh earlier.
So this "extra training"… is punishment.
He met Silva's gaze without flinching. The air between them crackled, as if charged with static.
Luke, stuck between father and son, dared not even breathe.
Finally, Silva's deep voice broke the silence.
"…What did you just call me?"
"Father."
"That's not what you said before dawn."
"You also know that was before dawn." Roy inhaled slowly, letting the sunlight spill across his face. "This… is morning."
Silva was quiet for a long moment. Then:
"…Electrocute him."
Luke straightened at Silva's order, lifted the baton, and with a quiet, "Forgive me, young master," drove it square into Roy's chest.
"Zzzt—!" Lightning crackled.
A million volts cascaded through his body. Roy's mouth twitched violently, limbs jerking like a puppet on broken strings.
And yet—he refused to fall. He stood rigid, spine locked, his defiant eyes never leaving Silva.
He held that glare.
Until—
Darkness claimed him.
---
9:00 a.m.
Roy stirred awake, vision swimming.
So it was true: once you're electrocuted unconscious, there's no way to slip into "deep sleep mode."
He blinked, disoriented, realizing he wasn't in the shrine anymore but still sprawled on the training hall floor. His throat was dry, voice rasping as he croaked toward Luke, who was tilting a waterskin to his lips:
"How long… was I out?"
"Half an hour. Three minutes past, young master."
"…That long, huh."
Roy turned his head toward the window. Sunlight now baked the earth, heat waves rising in the distance. But Silva was gone.
He braced himself to rise, only for his legs to buckle. He staggered, then dropped heavily back onto the floor. His body was still lagging far behind his will.
"Careful, young master—don't crush Master Illumi." Luke quickly cautioned.
"…Illumi?"
Roy blinked, then looked down. Something soft had broken his fall.
There, splayed across the floor, was Illumi—his long black hair fried into a wild, frizzy explosion, like he'd just survived a thunderstorm.
"…Why is he here?"
Luke bowed slightly, guilt in his tone. "After testing his Nen category, Master Illumi came here. He heard you switched to a higher-voltage baton and insisted on the same. I… couldn't dissuade him. And so, well—what you see now."
Roy sat frozen for a moment, staring at his brother's half-smoked silhouette, then slowly exhaled.
"…"
Figures. Stubborn brothers… stubborn father. Guess I'm not the only one who refuses to back down.