Electric shocks can be tuned by voltage to control the current through a body.
But Silva's whip has no such calibration.
When he lashes, how hard he'll swing—and whether he'll use Nen—are both unknowns.
"As long as it makes him happy." Roy's tone was a little drained.
They were all stubborn—no one would bow to anyone else. That was the Zoldyck household: a mansion full of mules.
Wutong was never one to meddle. All he could do was handle Roy's logistics as best he could, so the young master wouldn't be distracted by trifles.
Dong… The wooden mantel clock in the corner chimed, reminding Roy there was less than an hour before sleep.
After Wutong finished the herbal bath and stepped out with Roy's change of clothes, hand on the doorknob, Roy called him back:
"Two things.
"First, book me a few top specialists for consumption.
"Second, dig up profiles of Conjuration-type Nen users—ideally ones who've documented using 'reverse conjuration.' I need to consult them on something."
Roy hadn't forgotten Tanjūrō's illness. His first idea was…
"Use reverse conjuration" to send medicine from the real world into the Demon Slayer world.
He reached to touch the sun earrings—and grasped at air.
Right, he hadn't "entered the dream" yet, and he hadn't even developed a method to bring items from his cognition world into reality.
"The first one's easy," Wutong mused, cupping his chin. "The respiratory department at the capital hospital of the Republic of Padokea is famous. If we're willing to pay, we can get excellent specialists."
"As for finding Conjuration-type Nen users…"
Wutong spread his hands, helpless. "You know I don't have authority to mobilize the intel network."
Roy knew full well the Zoldycks had their own information apparatus. Not just Wutong—even he and Illumi couldn't tap it without Silva's authorization, much less pull dossiers on Conjuration types.
"Got it." Roy didn't press him. He told Wutong to lock up, then threw himself into the soft bed.
There were still nearly two years before Tanjūrō's passing—neither long nor short. A way would turn up.
Worst case, Roy had considered this: once he fully mastered Sun Breathing and learned the most basic Nen applications, he'd go take the Hunter Exam.
With a pass and a Hunter License in hand, he could access the Hunter Association's intranet and leverage it to search for renowned Conjuration-type users.
Then many problems would solve themselves.
Shhh… The night breeze lifted a corner of the curtain, revealing Yukizō on the rack.
Moonlight fell through the clean glass onto Roy's face.
Hands folded over his abdomen, the boy closed his eyes in peace.
That familiar falling sensation—
Through the prismatic tunnel, back into his sea of cognition.
Barefoot, Roy waded into the surf, letting the waves wet his cuffs. He stared into the distance, emptied his mind, and a minute later pushed open the Demon Slayer door.
"Nii-san~"
The north wind howled.
Tanjiro, who'd just dashed out of the shrine to take a leak, shuffled back in under a blanket, shivering. As he passed the bonfire, he gave Roy a gentle shove.
Compared to Roy, who could sleep straight till dawn, Tanjiro wore two dark circles and looked at him in awe. After all that last night, his big brother could still sleep like the dead—maybe he'd just been born with a big heart.
"There's a cloth bundle under the hoe. Rice dumplings inside—take a few and roast them."
Before the embers died, Roy scooped up some snow outside to wash his face, then came back and took the water gourd from his breast, pulling the stopper.
Tanjiro sidled over uninvited—roasting dumplings with one hand, sitting close to Roy with the other, just to "mooch a breath" of aura.
Curiosity kills the cat, but our foolish little bro didn't get it. Roy ignored him and opened more aura nodes to pour more Nen into the gourd.
White vapor curled… Minamino Hirochi rose halfway from the gourd, bowed to Roy.
Seeing the lower half of him trailing away as smoke into the gourd, Tanjiro leaned in, fascinated. "Mister, are you okay?"
He got a chop to the head for it—yelping, clutching his skull, and squatting to the side, aggrieved.
"My little brother's careless manners must be a joke to you," Roy said with an apologetic smile to Minamino. "If there's nothing else, we'll eat and head out."
Minamino chuckled at the sulking Tanjiro—the kid looked a bit like his own darling daughter when she pouted, though older; probably a little cuddle-monster too.
He shook his head. "I wouldn't dare trouble you, Lord Eiichirō. But there is a small matter, if it interests you."
He explained:
"When the demon chased me, it knocked my basket aside.
"If it's not too much trouble, could you look for it?
"It holds gifts I bought for my family, and some silver.
"You can have all the silver—as thanks for avenging me and helping me find my family…"
"Easy enough." Roy shot Tanjiro a glare. "You hear that? On the way down, use that nose."
"Okay!" Tanjiro peeled a few dumplings and ate with Roy. Soon, with baskets on their backs, they left the shrine and found Minamino's wicker basket under a pine.
Inside were scattered cloth bolts, a bamboo hobbyhorse, paperwork; in the snow nearby, some snacks half-buried so you could barely see their corners.
"Yes, those are mine. The cloth's to make clothes for my wife and mother. The horse and sweets are for my daughter. The paperwork has my name. As for the remaining silver—please take it, Lord Eiichirō."
Roy fished a single coin from the snow and slipped it into his own pocket, then handed the rest to Tanjiro to bundle up and returned it to Minamino's basket.
Minamino hesitated, mouth working to speak.
But Roy simply hefted the basket and started toward Sagiri Mountain without looking back.
"In times like these, a man is the beam that holds his house up.
"You're gone, so you don't have to worry—but your family still needs to eat.
"Leave them more silver. It'll help them get by."
"Yeah, mister—more sweets for your daughter!" Tanjiro kept pace, peeking back at Minamino with a smile.
Minamino let out a long sigh and bowed till his head touched the ground.
He didn't know whether he was lucky or unlucky—only that his heart felt warm, and the world more dear than ever.
Until—
They reached the foot of Sagiri Mountain and, in the distance, saw a village.
A familiar child's voice carried across the air, making that feeling sharpen to a point—
"Mom, when is Dad coming home?"