When people mention the Zoldyck family, the first thing that comes to mind is... they are the world's number one assassin family, with two top-level experts, Zeno Zoldyck and Silva Zoldyck.
They are powerful, cold and ruthless, disliking communication with others, their eyes only on tasks and money.
It is precisely because of their illustrious record that the world knows—there is no one the Zoldyck family cannot kill. If such a person exists... it can only be that the money is insufficient.
But those who have come in contact with some of the predecessors of the Zoldyck family and some veteran Hunters, like Netero, are very clearly aware that the person who made the Zoldyck family hold such a transcendent status in the assassin world is actually just one person—
That is the one who single-handedly built the entire Zoldyck family, a patriarchal figure—Maha Zoldyck.
He is the true pillar of the Zoldyck, the most mysterious existence of the Zoldyck family.
The old man appeared out of nowhere, his dry face drooping skin, at first glance, looking on the brink of death, like a mummified corpse ready to meet his end.
But when Roy stood up to greet him, there was not a hint of disrespect in his heart... He was very clear that the outward appearance of this great-grandfather was completely unreliable, just like his age, a mystery.
If he were to get upset over something, not even his father, Silva, let alone the strongest human, Netero, would necessarily be able to gain any advantage from him.
After all, his grandfather, who wouldn't feel comfortable without killing someone daily, once said that across the entire continent... "Netero is the only one to have faced Maha and lived."
It thus goes to show the weight of the opponent's stature.
Maha moved like a ghost, floating in and sitting lightly, his eyes looking at nothing and no one.
His chopstick skills were rapid, shoveling food into his mouth, seemingly slow, but the chopsticks moved so fast they left afterimages... Seeing this, Roy naturally couldn't care less about directions and hastily pulled out a chair to sit across from him, just in time to see two plates half-empty.
'This speed....'
The young man was startled in his heart...
He quickly grabbed his chopsticks, picked up a slice of eggplant, and tossed it into his mouth. In a blink, three-quarters of the food was gone.
By the time he got another spoonful of rice, "clang~" two empty plates were already on the table, with only a few solitary slices of tomato left.
It was because the old man found them too tough to chew.
"Great-grandfather...." Roy's hand holding the chopsticks froze mid-air.
The old man burped, pretended not to notice Roy's resentful gaze, and in the blink of an eye, was gone.
All that could be faintly heard was his sighing about his own aging and declining dental health, leaving a few slices of tomatoes for his good grandson to supplement vitamins....
Roy & Wutong: "..."
They were at a loss for words.
They exchanged glances, baffled.
The young butler coughed lightly at this time, choosing his words carefully, "Young master, how about... cream mushroom soup tonight?"
Roy felt his stomach churning, immediately waved his hand.
He took Yubashiri back from Wutong and strode towards his bedroom.
The night was like a crescent moon, mirroring Roy's current mood, neither good nor bad.
Although not eating the dinner he made was a bit regrettable, his great-grandfather's behavior undeniably proved to him one thing... his culinary skills hadn't waned much, and perhaps he could regain them.
After all, handling Takeo, Mao, and the others shouldn't be much of an issue.
With a newfound confidence, Roy walked down the corridor, pushed open the door, and entered his bedroom. Just as he was about to place Yubashiri on the stand Wutong had prepared by the window, a glance made him pause sharply—
A book he had never seen before lay quietly on the desk, its page corners swaying gently with the breeze coming through the window.
It made a soft "swish~ swish~" sound.
Roy furrowed his brow, very certain it was not something that belonged to him.
He stepped forward, and in the moonlight, he focused his eyes to see that the pages were yellowed, evidently aged, and the title page was so blurred it was hard to decipher, vaguely making out a line of small text—
"On the 'Form Change' of 'Nen' Abilities."
"Nen ability"..."Form Change"....
"Could this be a 'popular science book'?" The young man suddenly thought of something.
He quickly stepped out of the bedroom, taking two steps forward to that small room he passed by almost every day.
The small room was lit by a dim yellow light, playing cartoons non-stop twenty-four hours a day... Peeking through the window, he could see an elderly man lying asleep in a rocking chair....
He lay on his back, sleeping soundly.....
Roy stood quietly by the window for a moment, clenched the book in his hand, and bowed towards him.
The old man seemed tired, or maybe from maintaining one position too long, half of his body numbed, turned over, leaving him a small yet somewhat hunched figure.
It wasn't until Roy left the window that he half-opened his eyes, sighed softly, and said to a corner in the darkness, "Come out."
The darkness twisted oddly... then a figure emerged.
He had silver hair and a silver beard, with a metal ring around his neck, a tight-fitting robe covering him, inscribed with—
"One kill a day, career in active service." Eight large characters, conspicuously eye-catching.
"Good evening, grandfather," Zeno bowed to Maha.
The old man rocked his chair, creating a creaking sound, not bothering to acknowledge him...
Zeno was unperturbed, as if just part of his daily routine, always coming around here once a day.
And massaging Maha's shoulders along the way.
The hands of an assassin can wield a blade or be used for massage... in terms of knowledge of body structure and acupoints, the Zoldyck family claims second to none.
Undoubtedly, Zeno's skills were unparalleled.
He traced from Maha's neck down the spine to the limbs, casual in his speech: "Why would grandfather be willing to take out father's notes?"
"Knowing a meal could make you happy, I regret not learning some culinary skills myself."
"You?" Maha snorted, sneering coldly, "You dare cook, I dare not eat."
"A bunch of killing brutes, just like your dead father, all with eyes high above their heads, utter fools."
Zeno stayed silent, his father Jager had become a taboo for five generations of the Zoldyck family, it was he who accompanied Netero to the Dark Continent and brought back the dragon, and it was he who repeatedly reminded... to beware of the "curse" before he died!
Now, the dragon was kept in the back mountain, yet the "curse" remained elusive.
This is also... why since his father Jager's death, Zeno would visit Maha daily, fearing the old man was infected with something ominous, ready to meet his end.
Fortunately, although Maha's vitality was somewhat depleted over the years, his overall condition remained stable, today he even had the interest to eat a few more bowls of rice.
Undoubtedly a good sign.
Zeno unexpectedly said, "I didn't expect Roy, the kid with little talent, to be good at cooking."
"Someday, I'll give it a try myself."
"He is my grandson!" Maha's eyes suddenly opened, glaring at Zeno: "In the future, only I can try it!"
Zeno: "...."