Roy ignored Illumi.
Even unconscious, his little brother kept those dead-fish eyes fixed on him—clearly unwilling to accept it.
I, Illumi, have never been weaker than anyone. Roy could almost hear what Illumi was thinking when he stubbornly chose the stronger baton.
Roy simply sat on him for a bit, then waved for Luke to dig a pit in the courtyard and dumped Illumi into it.
"Young master, is this… appropriate?" Luke was genuinely afraid Illumi would wake up and kill him. He hid to the side, gulping hard as Roy shoveled dirt over Illumi, one spade after another. For all his ferocity when shocking people, that was under Silva's orders—it was just work. If he really offended a young master, he was sure he'd be tossed to Mike as a snack before the next day was out.
Using the shoveling to get his body back under control, Roy left only Illumi's head above ground and said lazily, "Relax. He likes sleeping this way."
Luke didn't believe it—until Roy patted down the last clod, leaned on the shovel for breath, and Luke noticed—
the eye Illumi had been keeping open finally closed…
"Get me an umbrella. It's too bright."
Compared to napping under the blazing sun in the garden, Illumi preferred the hole in his room. But with his body still numb, he couldn't move and had to make do.
"Yes…" Head down, Luke hurried off for an umbrella, not daring to look twice for fear Illumi would catch his glance and hold a grudge.
Roy shaded his eyes with a hand, stuck the shovel in the dirt, tossed a "Sleep well," and headed for the training hall.
Illumi's eyes opened again. He watched Roy slip around the gallery corner and just as he was about to vanish, Illumi said, "Next time, I'll wake up before you."
Bang—
The training hall door slammed shut, cutting off Illumi's view.
"Hope so," Roy murmured.
He picked up Yubashiri from the corner and drew it.
Shiiing—
The blade threw a blinding white flare that made his eyes water. He steadied his breath—not starting Sun Breathing yet—settled his mind and burned off the restlessness in his gut.
Then he parted his lips, dragged in a great breath, raised the blade two-handed, and cut on the diagonal.
"Sun Breathing, Form One: Dance!"
Whoom—
Heat rolled with the arc of steel; a lick of fire spat from the edge and scraped the wall, leaving a char line.
No—couldn't focus.
His gaze hardened. A quick twist of the wrist—an upward slash, the tip sparking fire from the air, another ring of flame.
Still no—focus isn't there…
Then—
"Form Three: Raging Sun…"
"Form Four: Fake Rainbow…"
"Form Five: Fire Wheel…"
Stroke after stroke, faster each time, tireless in chasing that instant of "total concentration." When Gotoh called him for lunch, he waved it off with a "not hungry."
"You're an Enhancer?"
Illumi finally woke.
He shook off the dirt and climbed out, then clung to the window, watching Roy until the practice ended—only then realizing he'd apparently slept the whole day. Truth be told, napping in the garden under an umbrella wasn't half bad—something he'd never tried. With the sunset behind him, he stepped into the hall and stopped in front of Roy.
"I think you need a sparring partner."
He flexed his wrist and flashed a hand-blade. Opening the nodes had clearly pumped up his confidence.
A beat later—
a shadow flicked past, and Roy had him by the afro, driving his head straight into the floor.
"I'm hungry. No time to play."
Yubashiri slid home. Roy's stomach growled. He stepped over Illumi's body, pushed open the door—
Cre-eak.
The door thudded shut. Illumi stared at the ceiling, hollow-eyed and stunned—
until…
Silva appeared.
Only then did he tilt up that afro and ask stiffly, "So he is an Enhancer?"
Enhancer: augments the user or a weapon's inherent qualities. The "dev direction" leans toward reinforcing the body to boost attack and defense. The most famous example is "humanity's strongest"—Netero.
"I don't know," Silva said, planting his feet on two stone pedestals and easing into a full split to stretch.
They were supposed to work a job together tonight, but Zeno had backed out at the last minute. Silva had come alone. After all, it was a billion-jenny job; it would take some doing.
Illumi got up, staring straight at Silva. "He must be an Enhancer."
Otherwise there was no explaining that explosive speed you couldn't even track.
"He didn't use Nen to put you down." Silva glanced toward the corner.
There, a new camera had been mounted—wrapped in a metal box so it wouldn't be stabbed through again.
"Then what did he use?"
"Silent Gait."
"…"
Illumi's body visibly went rigid. He stood dazed a long beat, then walked to the window, propped his hands, and slipped out…
Silva watched him go. The boy traced the pit he'd dug that morning, jumped in, and mechanically scraped dirt over himself again—like only earth could offer him any comfort.
Weak… you're far too weak, Illumi…
Across the corridor, the Zoldyck brothers shared the same thought at the same time.
Only, where Illumi couldn't see—
Roy strode the castle's mottled stone floors, skimmed a new panel ping—Physique +0.05—and casually checked Silent Gait:
Silent Gait: Proficient (89/100).
Not long now to the next tier—Mastery.
Must be thanks to the physique boost.
Clear as day in his mind, his heart itched—he could hardly wait to "sleep." But with hard training looming tonight, he chose to eat first and take an herbal bath.
Fortunately, after all these years, Gotoh had learned to read him. When Roy had blacked out earlier, Gotoh had already prepared the bath. After dinner, a towel over his head, hands on the tub rim, he soaked and rested with eyes closed.
Ladle after ladle, Gotoh rinsed his back and reported: "Upon hearing it, the master said nothing. He only ordered…
"In half a month, he will evaluate your training results."
"What 'training'?"
"Zetsu." Gotoh took off his fogged glasses. "The master said: if you can take three lashes from him, you pass."
Roy's face froze. Remembering the million volts hitting his chest that morning, his sternum started to ache all over again.
~~~
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