"Imagine stretching and elongating 'Nen,' bending it into a fishhook shape to break through the water's resistance, actively hooking onto the fish... The key is to 'inject imagination' in it."
Full-time Calendar year 1986, winter on December 27th, less than ten days before the 274th Hunter Exam begins, deep within a pond in Kukuroo Mountain, Roy, clad in a thick cotton coat, sits cross-legged on a green stone, with a notebook from his great-grandfather on his lap, attempting to fish with a "half-finished" fishing rod.
It's called "half-finished" because it lacks any attachments; it doesn't even have a hook or line, merely a bamboo rod temporarily stripped of its branches.
Determined to improve the quality of his 'Nen' to withstand the 'Sun's' depletion, in the days before departure, Roy adopted his grandpa Jager's training method—"fishing without a hook," honing his own 'Nen Line' to deepen his understanding of the essential nature of 'Form Change of Nen.'
Just like how Sisko injects imagination into his 'Nen,' mimicking paper to pull out sheets of thin 'Nen Skin,' constructing a 'thin illusion.'
Roy uses [Ten] to envelop the bamboo rod, imagining extending the 'Nen' outward... At the end of the rod, 'Nen' reveals a slight bud, gradually tending to drip downward.
"Young Master, the luggage is packed. We can depart now." Behind him... Wutong stands quietly, two large suitcases by his side.
He's been there for a while, noticing Roy focused on his training, wisely choosing not to disturb him, until the tail end of the rod showed the faint form of a 'Nen Line,' only to break with a 'pop~' from exerting too much force, prompting him to finally speak to Roy.
The young man felt a bit of regret but was not discouraged. He packed up the fishing rod and stood up, saying, "Let's go."
He takes the lead, walking down the mountain path... Wutong follows with the luggage in hand, getting closer, they can faintly see the butler guarding the mountain, standing quietly at the path's entrance with a cane in hand, like a stone statue.
With short, crisp white hair and a figure not particularly tall, he looked somewhat familiar... Taking a closer look, it was Haseki Dorou.
Just days ago Roy heard from Wutong that after opening 'Nen' for him, he started a challenge on the same day, got a good beating, and quieted down...
"It's just a pity his result showed an 'Enhancement' type. It will take some time to train him towards 'Transmutation,'" Wutong occasionally checks Haseki Dorou's training progress, continually intent on grooming him into a tool-man surpassing Tsubone,
Roy, however, doesn't mind, "Transmutation" at least leans on "Enhancement," better than training blindly and ending up with some "Conjuration" duplicate.
"Young Master."
Footsteps echoed on the mountain road...
Haseki Dorou, hearing the commotion, opened his eyes, turned to see Roy, and bowed in greeting.
The young man still bore a swollen pig-headed appearance, his face not fully healed... Roy shot a glance at Wutong, suspecting perhaps he was jealous of Haseki Dorou's good looks and intentionally targeted his face, judging by the blows that left air whistling as he spoke...
Wutong held the luggage, looking up at the sky, "None of my business."
Roy rolled his eyes at him, then nodded slightly at Haseki Dorou as he passed by his shoulder.
The young man, listening to the receding footsteps, straightened his back and suddenly shouted, "Young Master, if I defeat that guy, can I be your personal butler?"
Roy's steps halted, suddenly sensing a surging killing intent rising to the sky, lifting his eyes to see——
Wutong suddenly turned around, dropped the luggage, adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, squinting as he glared at Haseki Dorou, "Are you serious?!"
Haseki Dorou stiffened his neck, undaunted, "I'm not talking to you, I'm asking the Young Master."
Wutong, hands in pockets, clutched a few coins, tilted his head towards Roy, "Young Master, better to kill him off."
Then, veins popped on his forehead, evidently on the edge of losing control! Should Roy command, he wouldn't hesitate to tear Haseki Dorou into pieces...
Roy, intrigued, watched this scene, patting Wutong's shoulder, "Let's go."
Neither responding to Wutong nor to Haseki Dorou, he stepped out of the path... Wutong threw Haseki Dorou a warning look, suppressed his anger, and followed... Leaving only the young man standing there, witnessing their departure, silently clenching his fist.
Now, less than a hundred meters from the mountain gate, Roy in front, Wutong behind, silence spread between master and servant, seeing Zebro salute Roy, Wutong took a breath and said solemnly, "Young Master, I want to grow stronger."
Roy's steps did not stop,
Wutong reiterated, "I want to grow stronger,"
The young butler, unprecedentedly earnest, "I cannot accept losing the Young Master."
"And then?" Roy stopped in front of the mountain gate, turning to face Wutong, "You'll commit suicide?"
"Yes." Wutong placed his right hand on his chest, "That is my oath, and it will be my glory."
Saying so, he knelt on one knee, bowing his head...
Constraints and Oaths, isn't it?
A chilling wind blew, flipping his collar, Roy remembered the words he spoke that night, silently watching him from the front, "Rest assured...,"
"Even if one day you wish to die, not without my permission."
"Yes...."
At half past eleven noon, the car was already waiting outside the gate,
Zebro reminded, "Young Master, the gate's open."
With arms braced, a roaring sound opened the mountain gate, sunlight casting down, dispelling some of the chill.
He watched as Roy and Wutong boarded the car one after the other, pretending not to have seen the earlier scene, with a thermos in hand, looked up at the sun, warmly sighed, "What a lovely day."
"Vroom..." The black sedan sped out with a step on the gas.
The mountain gate slammed shut, concurrently cutting off a line of sight.
At eleven thirty-one noon, a call came through to Illumi, "Young Master, the Eldest Young Master has departed."
"Got it,"
The call ended, behind Illumi were already packed suitcases, he sat beside the desk, entranced, looking at himself in the mirror, not knowing when he had donned Roy's visage once more.
'Who says he's set off, he's clearly always been here with me....'
Illumi touched his chest, reluctant to look away from the mirror, his form flickered, the door creaked open, swaying with the wind...
In a small room across a corridor, an old man hearing the noise withdrew his magnified ear, unclear if listening to cartoons or something else, regardless, not eavesdropping, rocking in a chair, gleeful and squinting with laughter...
"Ah, youth is wonderful... one chases, the other flees, escaping seems hard as ever...."
"Finally, like brothers in some way...."