Chapter 79: Asking the Heart x The Sun Also Rises
"Ren is will; Hatsu is action."
"People use 'will', use 'thought', to command 'action'. They win through sheer presence; they can repel enemies without even moving."
"Those who practice Ren must first have a sufficiently firm 'will'. If their mind is weak, they can easily become stubborn, unable to correct flawed thinking, leading them down a dangerous path. In severe cases, they may even perish."
"Therefore, when practicing Ren, one cannot simply dwell on the surface appearance of Nen. More importantly, one must 'ask the heart'."
"Ask yourself what you truly desire, what direction you want to move in the future. Once you have firmly established your path forward, then it is not too late to speak of practicing Ren."
Late night. The moonlight washed over father and son, draping them in lunar gauze.
Kikyo carefully eased herself out of bed, holding her waist, and peeked out from the doorway. Two figures, large and small, stood with hands clasped behind their backs at the window, gazing out at the night view of Kukuroo Mountain. There was a strange sense of harmony between them.
Is it just my imagination? The electronic eyes on the woman's face flickered. Roy stood beside Silva, listening quietly. A phrase surfaced in his mind: Skill can approach the Dao; Art can connect with the divine! When any skill or art reaches its pinnacle, it eventually converges towards the 'Way'.
"Father, you mean that the essence of Ren is not on the material level—controlling the opening and closing of aura nodes—but rather... arming the mind with thought, interpreting responsibility through action. Wielding one's will as a blade to inflict spiritual impact or damage upon the enemy."
Silva paused, slightly stunned. He turned his head to look at Roy. The boy's frowning, contemplative expression seemed to glow faintly. Perhaps it was the light spilling through the slightly open door, or maybe the moonlight was particularly bright, highlighting his extraordinary presence.
Regardless, the phrase "arming the mind with thought, interpreting responsibility through action" sounded unexpectedly fresh.
The man's gaze was profound. "Your grandfather mentioned you often have peculiar ideas. It seems that wasn't just empty talk."
"Kikyo, bring me the notebooks from my drawer."
Creaak. The door opened a little wider, and the woman slipped two notebooks through the gap.
Silva said, "These contain some of my experiences regarding the Four Major Principles from my early years. Keep one for yourself, give the other to Illumi."
Roy accepted them with both hands, flipping through the handwritten pages. He bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Father. I won't keep you waiting long."
"Heh heh heh... Let's hope!"
A gust of wind blew past, whipping Silva's silver hair around like a lion's mane.
The boy straightened up, nodded to Kikyo, and turned, walking back the way he came, leaving the couple with the sight of his not-so-imposing, yet no longer frail, back.
"He's grown up..."
"Mm," he's grown. "Be careful not to catch a chill, for the child's sake." Silva watched Roy leave, his gaze lingering, before helping Kikyo back into the room.
The bedroom door closed.
But the ties of blood could not be severed.
Walking once more through the castle corridors, steeped in the aura of ages, Roy felt his thoughts clear, his mood lightened—a stark contrast to the heavy depression of an hour ago.
"You seem quite pleased with yourself. Did you go see Kastro again?"
The lethal dose of neurotoxin had been potent. Even with the antidote, the residual poison had taken Illumi a full day to recover from. Now, on the way to his own bedroom, the boy ran into his older brother.
Good timing. It saved Roy the trouble of looking for him—not that he would have, anyway. He would have just instructed Gotoh to deliver their father's notes.
"Yours." He tossed the notebook over.
Illumi caught it, flipped it open, glanced through it, and then... craned his neck, staring at Roy. "Have you had a change of heart?" Why would you just give these experiences to me?
"Father gave them," Roy said calmly, not even bothering to look at him as he turned to leave.
Illumi stood holding the notebook, staring blankly at his retreating back, a sharp pang of disappointment piercing his heart. I thought... it was a gift from you.
The boy remained frozen in place like a statue, facing the direction Roy had gone, gazing for a long time before finally turning his back on him and returning somberly to his own room.
The moon was high overhead. Looking down from above, the Zoldyck brothers walked left and right, like two straight, thin lines, never to converge—
Dong. Ten o'clock at night. The grandfather clock in the corner chimed.
His mind filled with thoughts about Ren after bidding farewell to Silva, Roy returned to his bedroom. He looked up and saw Gotoh, unusually, not preparing dinner, but waiting at the door holding a pair of white gloves. Roy paused.
"Young Master, the Oldest Master gave instructions. Learn what you must learn, eat when you must eat, and if you've promised something, you must do it." Gotoh mimicked Maha's tone. "My stomach is empty, and I require food now!"
Roy: "..."
For a moment, he didn't know whether to praise the uncanny imitation or scoff at the poor mimicry. He put Silva's notebook away with the ones from Biscuit and his great-great-grandfather, closed the drawer, and headed towards the kitchen.
"Let's go. We can't let the old man starve."
"Yes, sir."
The young butler followed Roy. Moments later, they arrived at the kitchen. He peeked inside.
Maha was sprawled languidly on a chair, one foot propped up, casually munching on a cucumber. Seeing Roy, he grunted. "No need for the smashed cucumber. Just make the chicken stew."
One probably wouldn't be enough; Enhancers were bottomless pits, each one eating more than the last. Roy, having foreseen this, had already instructed the kitchen staff to prepare six chickens.
He set up a large wok over the fierce fire of the earthen stove. The stove, built by the chefs from bricks, was specifically for cooking large meals for the butlers. Since Roy needed it, it had naturally been cleared beforehand.
Roy took the spatula, Gotoh stoked the fire, and Maha sat lazily, waiting for his meal. He occasionally glanced over, tapping his fingers on the armrest, thoroughly amused.
Soon, the stir-frying was done, water was added, and the lid was placed on the pot. With the chicken stew simmering, Roy finally had a moment of leisure. He took the opportunity to ask Maha about the aspects of Ren he didn't understand.
The old man cracked an eye open and shot him a look. "Your father alone isn't enough? Now you want to fleece this old man too? Greedy kid!"
"This isn't fleecing, it's seeking guidance," Roy corrected seriously. "You were the one who told me: the child who cries gets the milk."
Heh. The boomerang he'd just thrown came flying right back. Maha looked at the boy; the boy grinned back at him. They stared at each other for a moment until finally, with a sigh, "Fine." The old man grumbled, "Asking the heart' isn't about teaching you some 'empty, grandiose' bullshit principles."
"'Thought' must also be grounded in reality to become a weapon."
Roy listened quietly.
"What is 'reality'? Concrete 'experience', 'knowledge', tangible, intangible, the things lurking deep within your heart, the most unforgettable 'reference points' in your memory." Maha tapped his fingers on the armrest, looking profound. "Humans cannot imagine things beyond their own comprehension. A sword, an event, a blow suffered, a gain achieved, a moment of visualization—all can become objects of 'reference'."
"After that, you 'draw lessons', 'imitate', and finally 'create', turning it into something that best suits you."
"So, anchoring the most deeply ingrained 'reference point' in one's heart is the key to 'asking the heart'?" Roy frowned, deep in thought.
Maha didn't answer, taking another bite of cucumber. "The pot's boiling."
The boy snapped back to reality, turned off the heat, served the food, and sat down to eat with his great-great-grandfather. He kept glancing at him, wanting to ask more, but unfortunately, the old man only had eyes for the chicken now. He devoured the food ravenously, then dropped his chopsticks and vanished in a flash.
"So fast... Every time I see Master Maha eat, I wonder if my eyes are playing tricks on me..." You can't even see his chopsticks move. Gotoh cleared the ravaged table. The old man had devoured nearly five of the six chickens, leaving only one for Roy's stomach.
The boy slowly wiped his mouth with a napkin, left the kitchen, and went out into the garden.
He looked up at the sky. It was nearing midnight, the moon a bright disc overhead. He reached out a hand, catching a sliver of moonlight between his fingers, staring at it intently. Gotoh stood silently behind him.
The young butler suddenly heard him ask, "Tell me, what is eternally unchanging?"
Gotoh paused for a moment, saw him looking at the sky, and tentatively suggested, "The stars?"
The boy let out a short laugh. "How dare the light of a firefly compete with the bright moon?"
"Then it must be the moon," Gotoh said with certainty. "It rises in the east and sets in the west. No matter how the world changes, the moon rises every day."
Is that so?
Roy released the strand of moonlight, letting it drift back into the night. He turned to Gotoh, and in his deep pupils, two divine flames ignited, burning brighter and brighter. "It's the sun, you idiot."
"Above the heavens and below the earth, I alone am honored. Where the light reaches, is where my eyes see!" the boy declared profoundly. He clapped Gotoh on the shoulder and walked back toward his bedroom with his hands behind his back.
Gotoh watched him leave, his figure shrinking in the distance until he vanished completely. The conversation between him and Master Maha echoed in his mind. He stood rooted to the spot, lost in thought for a long, long time.
It wasn't until the next day, when Roy saw him again, that the young butler sported two dark circles under his eyes, clearly having not slept well.
"By the Master's order, you have two days of leave to 'ask your heart'," Gotoh relayed Silva's exact words.
"Not necessary." Roy took a bite of his beef burger. "Training continues as usual. As for 'asking the heart'..." The boy lowered his voice to a chuckle. "Go tell him I've already found my direction."
Gotoh thought of the boy's shining eyes from the night before and cautiously asked, "If the Master asks..."
"Just say... the sun."
"Yes, sir."
Gotoh gave Roy a deep look, served him the rest of his breakfast, and left with the cart. Just as he reached the door, a soft call stopped him. The butler turned. The boy looked at him seriously. "You need to work harder, Gotoh."
"Pick up your Ren training again. I don't want to have to search for you amongst the dust later..." That encounter with Hisoka in the forest... it wasn't pleasant.
"Rest assured, Young Master." Gotoh adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose and blinked. "Even the sun needs its court of stars."
"I will show you my growth."
"You..." Roy shook his head, amused. He opened a drawer, took out Silva's notebook, and spread it on the table. "I can't give you the original, but you can copy it here. When you're finished, you can leave."
"But that's the Master's..."
"What Master? He gave it to me, so it's mine!"
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