Chapter 65: The Zoldyck's Wait x Sakonji Urokodaki's Limit
[Name: Roy Zoldyck]
[Physique: 23.75 (Note: Average person is 1)]
[Remaining "Life Energy": 31]
Night.
Neon lights painted over the darkness, and the streets below were a river of traffic.
After allocating his points, Roy, wrapped in a bathrobe, sat at the dining table for dinner. Gotoh, having returned with Kastro after booking the new tickets, stood beside him.
Tonight's dinner consisted of cheese-baked lobster, a whole roast chicken with a side of flatbread, and a one-liter bottle of fresh milk on the corner of the table.
Kastro had been sent back to his own room; they would meet up again tomorrow morning before boarding the airship.
While attending to Roy, Gotoh began packing their luggage and recounting the day's events. "After Harrison's death, I doubt anyone will be challenging you for a while, Young Master."
"The airship tickets are for ten o'clock tomorrow morning. I've already informed the front desk and booked a driver in advance. The luggage that was left at the airport has been retrieved by someone Luke sent and is already back home."
"Also," the young butler pushed up the glasses on his nose, "we ran into Young Master Illumi at the airport. The way he was looking at Kastro was... not right."
"I suspect..."
"The test has just begun," Roy cut in. He dissected the roast chicken with his knife and fork, speaking nonchalantly. "Stay out of it. Just consider it a necessary trial for Kastro to become an apprentice butler."
Countless people dreamed of entering the Zoldyck household. How could anyone command respect by just talking the talk and bowing their head, without first enduring a few hardships?
"Yes, sir." Gotoh pushed his concerns down and continued. "The family called this morning to ask when you would be returning. I have already informed them of your arrival date."
Gotoh paused, then glanced cautiously at Roy. "Luke said he will be waiting to welcome you home... in the training room."
Welcome me home with an electric baton?
Roy thought of how Luke had blocked the doorway to deliver a certain person's orders as he was leaving. He picked out a tender piece of chicken breast, tossed it into his mouth, and chewed. With a slight movement of his throat, he swallowed.
"Tell him to get a more powerful one. One million volts is too low."
Is... is the Young Master provoking the Master?
Filled with apprehension, Gotoh braced himself. "Yes, sir." He immediately took out his phone to inform Luke.
"This... I can't make that decision..." Luke, receiving the call late at night, was at a complete loss. He felt as if he were caught between two guillotines; a step left meant death, a step right also meant death. It was an impossible situation.
He had no choice but to report it and pass the ball to Silva.
The moon was high in the sky.
Silva, a blanket draped over his shoulders, opened the door to his room. On the large bed behind him, Kikyo was fast asleep. A single, pale white thigh dangled over the edge of the mattress. Luke quickly lowered his head and relayed Gotoh's message, explaining the situation in full detail.
Silva stared out through the long corridor's glass window into the thick darkness, listening in silence. Beside him, Luke bowed even lower, cold sweat trickling down his back as he finished his report.
"How many days... has he been gone?" Silva finally asked after a long pause.
Luke gathered his thoughts. "Four days, sir. Five, including tomorrow."
"Five days..." Silva fell silent for a moment. "Do as he says."
"Yes, sir." Luke bowed and retreated.
The door closed. A small hand snaked its way up Silva's broad chest. "Who was that?" a lazy voice asked.
Silva didn't say a word. He grabbed the woman's arm, expertly pinned her against the door, and thrust forward.
That night, the silence of the old castle was broken.
In a certain dimly lit room, the old man rocked in his chair, watching cartoons and tapping his fingers on the armrest, thoroughly enjoying himself. A satisfied grin spread across his face.
"A little over half an hour... not bad, better than last time."
When you get old, you tend to see things more clearly, more philosophically. The only thing that keeps a family from falling apart is "legacy."
Having more kids is a good thing. Not like Zeno, not like Zzigg, and not like him, Maha, who had only produced one child in his lifetime. In that respect, Silva had done well. The old man thought of Milluki, of Illumi, and finally, of the boy who bowed to him every day he passed by. He smacked his lips. It had been a few days since he'd had any of his cooking.
"Hmm... when is that kid Roy coming back again... right... tomorrow... Tomorrow is good... Tomorrow is a good day..." Maha mumbled to himself, his voice growing softer and softer until it faded into a faint snore.
"Young Master, I've checked the weather forecast. Tomorrow will be a fine day. You should get some rest."
The night grew deeper. Gotoh finished packing, turned off the lights, and lay down on the nearby sofa.
One floor below, a boy sat in a large vat, hugging his knees in the darkness. Only his two vacant eyes were visible, locked on Room 9 across the way, waiting to see when the lights would go out.
In Room 9, Kastro had just finished a call with his master and was packing his few belongings. He suddenly paused and glanced upstairs, wondering if, as a new butler, he should wish the Young Master goodnight.
His answer was Roy's soft snores, his hands folded peacefully on his stomach, rising and falling with each gentle breath.
Hss~ yah...
The multicolored tunnel appeared at his feet. Passing through it led to the familiar sea. Through deep sleep, Roy entered the Gate of Cognition. As usual, he rolled up his pant legs and stood in the surf for a while before pushing open the gate to the Demon Slayer world.
The familiar sensation of falling...
When he opened his eyes again, he didn't see the pair of beautiful eyes he had come to expect. Surprised, he sat up and looked around.
He found Makomo had followed Sakonji Urokodaki into the kitchen. She was crouched beside him, watching him clean a fresh river fish.
"We're having fish this morning."
Hearing the movement behind him, Sakonji spoke without turning his head. The knife in his hand moved rhythmically, slicing sashimi, which made Makomo's mouth water.
"Master is too good to Eiichiro. Staying up half the night to break through the ice and catch him a fish. Hey, Sabito, I'm jealous!" The little girl puffed out her cheeks. The fox-masked boy leaned against a pillar and shot her a glance, shaking his head helplessly.
"A prodigy deserves a prodigy's treatment. If you or I had reached Eiichiro's level when we were alive, Master would have been happy to catch fish for us every day."
"Hee hee, I'll let you in on a secret. Master caught a fish for me once, too~" Makomo pulled at the corner of her eye, making a face at Sabito.
Sabito's breath hitched. He gave her an exasperated look, then glanced over to see Roy walk in. Roy leaned against the pillar just as he was, silently watching Sakonji work in the kitchen. After a while, he asked, "Master, what is your limit?"
Biscuit's appearance had reminded Roy of Netero's past. He, too, had performed ten thousand punches of gratitude a day. His limit was completing the set in one hour. By that calculation, excluding the time for prayer, if Netero were serious, he could conservatively throw one hundred thousand punches a day.
With his back to Roy, Sakonji Urokodaki's ears twitched, but he didn't answer.
Roy smiled and explained, "I just want to know what level one can reach when the way of the sword is practiced to its absolute depth."
This time, Sakonji Urokodaki turned around and looked at him seriously, a plate of freshly sliced sashimi in his hands.
"There is no 'absolute depth'. There is only 'deeper'."
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