Chapter 107: Cheating Death x The Seven Most Beautiful Colors in the World
"It's over."
Pariston's body lay quietly on the deck, devoid of life. His two bodyguards, Clark and Golem, bobbed to the surface, pushed by the waves. Faintly, a few sharks could be seen circling, drawn by the scent of blood.
Kite, high up on the mast, had witnessed the entire fight. His gaze was fixed on the boy's not-particularly-large back. Sensing the stare, Roy glanced up at him briefly before sheathing his sword.
"Young Master, how should we dispose of him?" Gotoh glanced at Pariston, catching his breath as he returned to Roy's side. In his mind, anyone who offended the Young Master deserved to be tossed into the sea to feed the fish, just like his two bodyguards.
Roy didn't speak. He received a notification from his panel. Clark and Golem had each provided eight or nine points of "Life Energy" upon their deaths. But Pariston... no spirit had appeared.
He was certain that his last strike had pierced the man's heart. And Pariston was, just as he saw, lying quietly at his feet, not breathing. Everything seemed perfectly normal.
But... Roy sensed something was wrong. He knelt and inspected Pariston's "corpse." The moment his fingers touched the carotid artery... the once-lifelike body visibly deflated, collapsing into a pile of mud, which was then scattered by the sea breeze and vanished.
[Vow and Limitation]
[To Die for the King: At the cost of permanently sacrificing one chess piece, cheat death and be reborn.]
Kakin Empire, Capital City Spanto.
On Tulip Avenue, adjacent to the royal palace—the center of power controlled by the Hui Guo Rou family—stood a luxurious estate. The manor was magnificent, with towering spires, antique window lattices, and exquisite gardens meticulously cared for by dozens of gardeners. Every sculpted detail flowed with aristocratic elegance and opErience.
At this moment, before a massive floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor, an "old" and a "young" man were drinking tea and playing chess. The "older" man was in his fifties, his long hair tied back with a pin. His features were rugged, his jaw covered by a thick, black beard. From a distance, he bore a striking resemblance to Netero, but his physique was far more robust.
"I've told you before, if you want to conjure a true dragon, you can't be limited by this world. You should follow me to the real continent and see for yourself."
Clack. A black knight on the chessboard was ruthlessly captured by the man.
The young man sitting opposite him turned a sickly pale red, opened his mouth, and spat out a mouthful of blood, staining the black and white board.
Pariston pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket, slowly wiped the corner of his mouth, and then touched his chest. The piercing pain was real; for a moment, it felt like he was back on the sea, experiencing it all over again.
"Roy Zoldyck... a terrifying man indeed."
"Who?"
"Roy Zoldyck."
The man paused, tossed the chess piece in his hand, and grinned savagely. "I told you it was just an exam. With your skill, no matter how bad it got, you shouldn't have failed."
"But... if your opponent was a Zoldyck, then it makes sense." Beyond stood before the window, his gaze skipping over the garden, past the royal palace, to the docks. A massive ship was under construction in the shipyard, one he had just christened the "Black Whale" two days prior.
His thoughts drifted, recalling his brief "contact" with that silver-haired man some time ago. The man had been dismissive, flatly refusing his proposal to have his old man convince Netero to lift the restriction. He had even offered ten billion Jenny, but it hadn't swayed him. It just showed how stubborn the man could be when he dug his heels in. (Note: Netero had once made a Vow that as long as he was alive, Beyond would not be allowed to set foot on the Dark Continent. This was one of the reasons the old man was eventually taken out by Beyond and Pariston.)
Pariston wiped the blood from his lips, his eyes narrowing into a smile. "Well... one must always seek out the real thing. That's what you told me." Just as Beyond had told him he must see a real dragon to conjure one. The boy picked up the blood-stained "Dragon" piece from the board, toyed with it, and said in a low voice, "This isn't over. When I find a real dragon, I'll settle the score with him properly."
To enjoy the pleasure of being hated, one must first learn to hate others. Beyond glanced over. The boy had finally taken his first step.
"Slowly... slowly... don't be hasty," he said to the boy, just as he had told himself every day for years. He turned his gaze back to the royal palace. His plans, subtle and insidious, were already in motion.
Aboard the Sea God.
Gotoh watched Pariston's body dissolve into mud, also realizing something was wrong. He mimicked Roy, kneeling and scooping up some of the mud, sniffing it. "This is modeling clay." The young butler hadn't been born into the Zoldyck family; he'd played with mud plenty as a child. He analyzed, frowning, "For the body to turn to clay means the blonde boy standing here wasn't his real self, but a substitute made from fired clay."
Connecting that to the... chessboard... the pieces... the truth gradually surfaced. "That Pariston... probably isn't dead," Gotoh said cautiously.
Roy stood up, picked up the tree branch that Gotoh had wedged into a crack in the deck, and walked wordlessly back to the bow, resuming his fishing and Nen training.
In his heart, he knew. Whether Pariston was dead or not didn't matter. Nothing new under the sun. As long as he had strength, all schemes would ultimately be crushed.
"Worse comes to worst, I'll just kill him again."
"Yes, sir." Gotoh composed himself and returned to the bow, standing guard behind the Young Master once more.
Night fell, the last ray of sunlight vanished, and a moon crept over the horizon, draping the Sea God in a silver veil.
One by one, people began to wake from their stupor. Without exception, their first instinct was to look at the battlefield. The cracked deck was a total mess, but there was no sign of Pariston, Clark, or Golem. Only the old captain, slapping Gus and a few crew members awake, was miserably grabbing tools to start repairs. And... the boy, sitting at the bow like a stone, still fishing, as if the terrifying swordsman from before wasn't him at all.
"Aaargh!" A scream suddenly rang out.
A moment later, the killing resumed!
Only then did people remember that the point battle wasn't over. A new round of scrambling began, but everyone, by tacit agreement, stayed far away from the bow, giving Kurapika a chance to breathe.
The girl sat cross-legged near Gotoh, tearing a strip from her sleeve to use as a bandage, stemming the bleeding from her wounds. She took a bank card from her inner pocket, offered it to Gotoh, and glanced nervously at Roy. "This is my life's savings. Please, you must accept it." Kurapika was perceptive.
Unfortunately...
"Other than your eyes, your clan has nothing of value."
?
Kurapika: "..."
Her head snapped up. Her dark, inky pupils, triggered by intense emotion, began to show faint signs of shifting to a fiery, scarlet red!
☆ ☆☆
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