Chapter 86: Kastro's Challenge x The Zoldyck Brothers Who Can't Escape
"Imagine stretching your Nen out long, bending it into the shape of a fishhook. Let it pierce the water's resistance, seek out the fish's trail, and actively hook onto it. The key is 'injecting imagination'."
Hunter Calendar Year 1986, December 27th, Winter. Less than ten days remained until the start of the 274th Hunter Exam. Deep within Kukuroo Mountain, beside a pond, Roy sat cross-legged on a mossy green rock, draped in a thick cotton coat. The notebook from his great-great-grandfather rested on his lap. He held a "half-finished" fishing rod, attempting to fish.
It was "half-finished" because it lacked any accessories—no hook, no line. It was simply a bamboo pole, hastily stripped of its branches.
Having decided to improve the quality of his Nen to counteract the drain from the "Sun," Roy spent his last few days before departure practicing Grandpa Zzigg's training method: "Hookless Fishing." He aimed to temper his Nen threads and deepen his understanding of the essence of "Nen shape transformation." It was similar to how Hisoka infused his Nen with imagination, mimicking paper to create thin "Nen skins" for his "Texture Surprise."
Roy enveloped the bamboo pole with Ten, imagining his Nen extending outwards. At the tip of the pole, a faint tendril of Aura appeared, gradually beginning to droop downwards.
"Young Master, the luggage is packed. We can depart now." Behind him, Gotoh stood quietly, two large suitcases beside him. He had been there for a while, noticing Roy was engrossed in his training and tactfully choosing not to disturb him. Only when a rudimentary "Nen thread" began to form at the end of the pole—only to snap with a soft pop because he pulled too quickly—did Gotoh finally speak.
The boy silently cursed his luck but wasn't discouraged. He put away the fishing rod and stood up. "Let's go."
He took the lead, heading down the mountain path. Gotoh followed with the luggage. As they drew closer, they could faintly see the mountain guard butler standing quietly at the path's entrance like a statue, holding a staff. He had neat white hair, wasn't particularly tall, and looked somewhat familiar. Taking a closer look, it was Kastro.
Roy had heard from Gotoh a few days ago that right after Gotoh had opened Kastro's Nen nodes, Kastro had immediately issued a challenge and received a sound beating, which seemed to have calmed him down. "Unfortunately, his aptitude test revealed he's an Enhancer. It will take some time to cultivate him in the direction of a Transmuter." Gotoh periodically checked on Kastro's training progress, still fixated on molding him into a tool-man surpassing even Tsubone.
Roy, however, wasn't concerned. Transmutation was at least adjacent to Enhancement. It was better than letting him train blindly and end up with Conjuration-type clones.
"Young Master."
Footsteps echoed on the mountain path. Kastro heard them, opened his eyes, and looked back. Seeing Roy, he bowed respectfully. The boy's face was still swollen like a pig's head. Roy glanced at Gotoh, suspecting that Gotoh, perhaps jealous of Kastro's good looks, had focused all his blows on his face. Look what he'd done to the kid; he was even lisping when he spoke.
Gotoh, holding the luggage, looked up at the sky. Nothing to do with me.
Roy rolled his eyes, nodded at Kastro, and walked past him.
The boy listened as the footsteps faded into the distance. He straightened up and suddenly called out, "Young Master! If I defeat that guy, can I become your personal butler?"
Roy stopped. He abruptly felt a powerful killing intent surge upwards. He looked back. Gotoh had turned around instantly, dropping the luggage. He pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, his eyes narrowed, glaring at Kastro. "Are you serious?!"
Kastro stuck out his neck, showing no fear. "I wasn't talking to you. I was asking the Young Master."
Gotoh shoved both hands into his pockets, gripping several coins. He looked at Roy. "Young Master, should I just kill him after all?" Veins bulged on his forehead; he was clearly on the verge of losing control. If Roy gave the order, he would tear Kastro limb from limb on the spot.
Roy watched the scene with amusement, then clapped Gotoh on the shoulder. "Let's go." He responded to neither of them, simply continuing down the path. Gotoh shot Kastro a look that clearly said, "Watch yourself," swallowed his anger, and followed. Only the boy remained at the path's entrance, watching them leave, his fists clenched tightly.
Now less than a hundred meters from the mountain gate, Roy walked ahead, Gotoh behind. Silence stretched between master and servant. Seeing Zebro remove his hat and bow to Roy, Gotoh took a breath and spoke in a low voice, "Young Master, I want to become stronger."
Roy didn't stop walking.
Gotoh continued, "I must become stronger." The young butler's voice held unprecedented seriousness. "I cannot accept losing you."
"And then what?" Roy stopped before the gate and turned to face Gotoh. "You'll kill yourself?"
"Yes." Gotoh placed his right hand over his chest. "That is my vow, and it will be my honor." He knelt on one knee, lowering his head.
A Vow and Limitation?
A cold wind blew past, rustling his collar. Roy remembered the words Gotoh had spoken that night. He stood before him, watching silently. "Rest assured."
"Even if the day comes when you wish to die, you won't do so without my permission."
It was 11:30 AM. The car was waiting outside. Zebro reminded them, "Young Master, the gate is open." He flexed his arms and, with a rumble, pushed open the mountain gate. Sunlight streamed in, dispelling some of the chill. He watched Roy and Gotoh get into the car, pretending he hadn't seen their exchange. Holding a thermos, he looked up at the sun and sighed warmly to himself, "What a fine day."
Vroom... The driver hit the gas, and the black car sped away. The mountain gate slammed shut, simultaneously cutting off a line of sight.
At 11:31 AM, a call reached Illumi. "Young Master, the Eldest Young Master has departed."
"Understood."
The call ended. Behind Illumi, his suitcases were already packed. He sat at his desk, staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror, having, at some point, changed his face back to resemble Roy's.
"Who says he left? He's always been right here with me..." Illumi touched his chest, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror. Then, his figure flickered. The door creaked open and swung gently in the breeze.
In the small room separated by a long corridor, a certain old man heard the noise and retracted his magnified ears. It was unclear whether he was listening to the cartoons or something else—definitely not the corner of the wall. He rocked in his chair, smiling with narrowed eyes, thoroughly enjoying himself.
"Ah, youth... He chases, he flees, but he can't escape even if he grows wings..."
"Finally acting a bit like brothers."
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