Hunter x Hunter: The Sun Breathing Zoldyck - 140

Chapter 140: The Whole Family Marches to the Dark Continent × Illumi Loses It

If one sentence could describe Nanika, Roy would say it did not play by the rules.

If one word could define Nanika, it would be wish-granting machine.

His father, Silva, had once said it plainly: Nanika was not human and could not be treated as family. It was darkness from another world.

The truth matched Silva’s description. Beings like Nanika had transcended human understanding. Judging by the original events, Roy preferred to call them gods who had lost some degree of subjective will.

They moved strictly by rules, yet retained a sliver of humanity.

For example, Nanika’s "requests" and "demands," and the way it could one day ignore both out of absolute reliance on Killua, following his direct orders to heal Tsubone and Gon.

Roy sank into thought. To kill something on par with Nanika clearly meant stepping out of the realm of humans and into the realm of gods. Even the "strongest human alive" had not done that.

"This kid is genuinely considering slaying a god," Netero thought as he studied Roy. The boy did not find it absurd at all. "Zigg has a fine junior."

The same fearlessness. The same wild, sky-leaping thoughts.

Conjurers tended to be a little neurotic, and sooner or later their paths veered outside what ordinary people could grasp.

"I understand," Roy said after steadying himself. He smiled. "It is late. I will not keep you any longer."

"Gotoh, see the Chairman out."

Gotoh opened the door with a soft creak. "Please."

"You are not leaving?" Netero asked Zeno.

"I am his grandfather, not a guest."

Netero chuckled and flicked his sleeve, leaving the room to the two of them.

The door clicked shut.

"Find an Exorcist," Zeno said at once. "And work hard yourself."

"Your Great-great-grandfather and I will think of ways, too. If the day comes, we turn the world upside down and fight our way to the Dark Continent and kill that thing."

The old man hunched, rose on his toes, and rubbed Roy’s head. "Remember, you are not fighting alone."

The boy had grown taller in the time it took to blink. Zeno had to strain to reach, and even then, it felt like an effort.

Roy dipped his head of his own accord and smiled, unburdened. "Maybe this is Great-grandfather’s reminder for me."

"If the other side can lock onto me through Grandfather Zigg’s memories, then chances are great that Great-grandfather is still alive."

"All the more reason to kill it."

"Agreed."

Grandfather and grandson traded a look and a smile. Outside, Netero had not gone far. He stood at the door, hands folded behind his back, Buddha-like ears pricked, listening quietly. Old eyes shimmered with a wistful light.

Look at other people’s children, then look at his own. Comparisons were lethal.

Word from Kakin said that unfilial whelp had fathered a brood and slipped them into the royal family, was building some "Black Whale," and pushing the old king to move the nation to the Dark Continent.

After all these years, he still would not learn to behave, dead set on repeating past mistakes and marching toward death. As things stood, Netero wanted to hold a grandchild but did not even know which one to hold, let alone stick around to watch them grow or pat their head.

He sighed, and the sound drifted away on the wind.

The door opened.

Zeno stepped out, hands behind his back, relaxed. He glanced sideways. "Shall we?"

Netero stared for a moment, then lashed out with a kick. The old man slipped aside and let it pass.

"What has gotten into you?"

"I simply find you annoying. May I?"

"You popped my ball. One kick is not excessive."

Zeno snorted and walked off, done indulging him.

Netero drew a deep breath. He felt better. He set off after him at an unhurried pace.

Behind them, the door closed with a soft creak.

Only Gotoh remained, attending Roy as he paged through Zigg’s notes. The page lay open on Will Scissors.

The Demon Slayer Corps Final Selection was only days away.

Travel would take two more.

Roy had already decided. He would enter the dreamscape tonight and start hunting demons to harvest Life Energy.

Before that, he had to learn Shu. It would be his parting gift to Sabito, Makomo, and the other fox-mask seniors—a way to thank them for their steady company these past months.

Nen’s essence cannot be separated from imagination.

Conjurers and Transmuters excel here in particular.

One emphasizes creating from nothing. One emphasizes shaping from nothing.

Simulate scissors. Shape your imagination into the form of a pair of scissors and cut the Nen line that connects body and object, so that after "severing man from thing," the Nen attached to the thing is preserved to the greatest extent.

Night fell. Light cast a long shadow over the boy’s back. Roy read with care, missing nothing, and asked Gotoh from time to time, "How did you learn Shu?"

The young butler set a coin on the back of his hand and chose his words. "By force of will."

Roy looked up. Gotoh rubbed the coin and gave a sheepish grin. "Tsubone always said I was thick. I never had a breakthrough. Being an Emitter, I should have been better at Shu. In the end, because I had to flick coins like bullets, I had to sever the Nen line."

"After enough practice, thinking over and over ‘I have to cut the line,’ one day it just… cut."

"Cut when you want to cut," Roy said, closing the notebook after a long pause. "That is not thick. When we return, prepare a blade. After the exam, I will teach you a sword style. Drill it until it’s carved into your bones.”

Breathing Styles mattered. They could flatten raw stat differences between humans and demons.

Since he had Water Breathing now, there was no reason not to teach it to Gotoh.

In the future, any loyal retainer could be rewarded the same way. It would strengthen his forces and bring him closer to his long-term goal of slaying a god.

"Yes, sir," Gotoh said, bowing.

Roy waved a hand and sank into Will Scissors, using what little time remained before sleep. He sat on the bed, letting Sol tumble around at his side, placed his palms on his knees, faced them upward, closed his eyes, and meditated. He controlled his breath, maintaining Sun Breathing.

At a thought, he began building Will Scissors in his mind.

Handle, hinge, edge, spine.

Parts took shape and shattered, shattered and took shape, again and again, for half an hour.

Finally, they locked together.

Roy opened his eyes at the right moment and beckoned. Using Magnetism: Attraction, he pulled the cane-sword into his hand. He sheathed it in a layer of Nen until it was completely covered. Then he released it and drove Will Scissors to cut the Nen line connecting the hand to the weapon.

A crisp snap rang in his mind.

He looked again. The cane-sword, wrapped in milky Aura, lay on the bed. It had not dissipated just because it had left his palm. Clearly, it had become a Shu-coated Nen tool.

"That is the Young Master," Gotoh murmured, taking it all in.

From the first question to meditation to forming Shu had taken under forty minutes. Tsubone had been right. Compared to the Young Master, he was a block of wood.

It was done. It was not as complicated as it seemed.

Roy beckoned the cane-sword back to his hand and ran a few more tests. No mistakes. All success.

A quiet understanding rose in his heart. Humans instinctively kept a respectful distance from the unknown—not because it was terrifying, but because people did not want to risk, did not want to reach, preferred to stay within the comfort of the known to feel a thin, pitiful security.

But once someone took the first step, found the method, and pierced the unknown, exposing its true face, fear evaporated.

Just as Will Scissors let him punch through Shu faster than Gotoh.

"My fear of that 'unknown' comes entirely from not understanding it."

"If I can catch even one loose thread—just as Killua used Alluka to handle Nanika—then there is nothing to fear."

Tick. Tick.

The countdown on the back of his hand continued.

Roy chose to ignore it. In his heart, he planted a seed: one day, he would set foot on the Dark Continent and show that "unknown" exactly what the world’s greatest family of assassins was.

The city clock in central Zaban rang eleven.

Sol seemed tired from rolling around. It clawed its way up his arm onto his head and pecked him, telling him to sleep.

Roy waved Gotoh off. "Sol will keep watch. Get some rest."

Gotoh nodded and did not argue. He closed the door softly, then turned and saw Rika.

The girl held a notebook to her chest. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, just as he did, as if she had been waiting a long time.

When he looked her way, she pulled out a pen, opened the notebook, and asked seriously, "There are a few things about Nen I do not understand. Will you explain them to me?"

Gotoh blinked, surprised. The girl met his gaze squarely. In the end, the young butler conceded and nodded.

"All right."

Under the dim corridor lights, he began to explain.

Caw.

Inside, Sol yawned and urged Roy to sleep.

The boy’s ear twitched. He heard something at the door, smiled, and turned to look out the window.

A pale face with long hair hanging down peered in, upside down, empty eyes staring straight at him. The silent look said, If you do not let me in, I will hang myself right now.

A black line appeared on Roy’s brow.

"What are you doing?"

Eliminated and still not going home?

Illumi did not answer. He just kept glancing sidelong at Roy. "Why did your grandfather go into your room?"

"It is nothing."

"Your hand—what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Who did it? Tell me. I will kill him."

His black hair writhed. The foolish big brother had finally noticed the gauze on the back of Roy’s hand, and his killing intent leaked out of his control.

A few birds slammed into the window, eyes rolling, and tumbled out of the air.

The curtain swept shut.

Roy let the Magnetism go. "It is nothing. Go sleep."

Illumi dangled outside, swaying in the night wind, one cheek silvered by moonlight until it was almost dripping with gloom. It was terrifying.