How does he know?
Kuraging's gaze locked on Roy.
The boy fished quietly without turning, yet he could feel exactly how shocked that stare at his back was.
Kurta… Scarlet Eyes… one of the Seven Most Beautiful Colors… Kurapika… Kakin's 4th Prince Tserriednich… the images rose unbidden in his mind…
Roy said mildly, "No need to be so surprised. There's nowhere the sunlight doesn't reach—so there are no true secrets."
"It's night. There's no sun." Kuraging pushed up her glasses, serious. "I don't know how you found out, but please—do not spread it."
Just how rare Scarlet Eyes are… why the Kurta chose seclusion—no one knew the reasons and dangers better than Kuraging herself.
But there's no wall that doesn't leak. As Roy said, if it exists, it will be found; once found, someone will collect it. The future slaughter of the entire Kurta clan, leaving only Kurapika alive, is proof enough.
"Where do you get the nerve to ask the young master for anything?" Gotoh shot her a glare, grabbed her by the collar, and hauled her up.
She clamped both hands over his and didn't struggle. Her eyes cut sideways—and flushed red in a heartbeat. The meek plea for help was gone; in its place a fierce resolve, glare unflinching: "Question me, choke me—it's fine!
"You can even gouge my eyes out!"
"So long as my people's secret isn't leaked… do as you wish with me, Kuraging!"
Kuraging?
"Put her down," Roy said. He'd suddenly thought of that golden-haired, red-eyed prodigy of a boy. Calmly: "I'm not interested in your clan—nor your eyes."
Even if Scarlet Eyes can fully express all Nen types' power, it wasn't of any use to Roy now. He wasn't about to dig out his own eyes and swap them in…
"Yes." Gotoh let her go.
She smoothed her collar and looked hard at Roy. "How am I supposed to trust you?"
Roy: "Believe it or don't."
Kuraging narrowed her eyes. "I'll follow you."
Gotoh: "?"
She declared, righteous: "I know the Zoldycks—world's top assassin family. It's in Those Years I Was a Hitman. I can apply as staff—join the Zoldycks."
"Only by becoming 'one of you' can I be sure the secret won't leak," she added silently.
You had to admit, her logic was crisp. She'd come to earn a Hunter License, to latch onto the Association's thigh—some backing for the Kurta.
Now her stubborn gaze stayed on Roy. She hadn't missed a second of what he'd just done. This was another very thick thigh—and it didn't conflict with the Association at all.
"Gotoh."
"Young master?"
"Find that author and beat him senseless."
Roy didn't look back. "Best tear out his tongue—teach him to stop spouting trash."
"Yes."
Kuraging: "…"
She swallowed hard, not knowing how to reply.
Gotoh glared at her and let it go.
Roy dropped the line and fell silent again. Moments later—[Notice: Nen "Morphology" +15]…
Quiet fishing; refining Nen. Night came without him noticing.
Moon at the zenith.
The killing on Kaijinmaru continued. Only Roy's bow stayed tranquil.
No one dared near the bow; no one even dared target Kuraging. They took her as "his"—cheap protection. She took advantage, fox-borrowing-tiger's-might, found an unlucky soul, snagged his tag, and stacked points.
Roy and Gotoh turned a blind eye. Kuraging, to her credit, was sensible—she started "on the job," playing butler and wheeling a cart to bring them dinner.
Eat when it's time, kill when it's time—the Association never skimps on rations for exam candidates.
Tonight was ship-to-table—seafood aplenty. Gotoh served while Roy cracked a bread crab. Kuraging propped her chin and watched, then asked, "Aren't you afraid I'd poison it?"
Gotoh sneered; Roy ate faster, happier. A Zoldyck dying of poison? That joke wasn't in Those Years I Was a Hitman.
Soon Roy, under Kuraging's smiling gaze, dropped a pile of shells, went back to the bow, and sat cross-legged.
He hadn't practiced bladework in a few days. He'd found that as long as he didn't open the Demon Slayer door, nothing happened that night—sleep as normal, wake as normal—entirely at his will. It gave him far more freedom to enter and leave the "cognitive world".
And after the fight with Pariston, no one dared try him. The old captain said it was still five or six days to Doli Island.
Roy told Gotoh to wake him if needed… closed his eyes, and slipped into meditation, preparing to keep his promise to Master Urokodaki—
Begin Breath training.
Drowsiness welled; the sounds of slaughter faded. His head dipped, and he slept. Through deep sleep he crossed the prismatic tunnel and reached his familiar sea.
This time he didn't linger—he pushed the Demon Slayer door straight open and stepped through.
The drop—
When he blinked awake, the smell of porridge hit his nose.
He smiled, rolled off the heated platform, stretched wide, and set a solid foot on the floor.
Sea isn't land—less sway. Feet on earth—more sure.
"Rōichirō, Master made you something tasty again~" Makomo had always regretted that she couldn't taste Urokodaki's cooking herself, so she always had Roy "share his tasting notes" to ease that little craving.
"What is it?"
"Fresh fish porridge." She was openly envious. "Master went to the river at four to catch fish for you—probably wants you to feel the rhythm of 'water' before you learn Breathing today."
"Don't listen to her nonsense." Sabito rolled his eyes. "Fish has nothing to do with Water Breathing. Rōichirō—brace yourself."
There was more in his words.
Roy listened quietly. In his mind, Tanjiro practicing under the waterfall played itself. No surprise… he was likely to do the same today.
Sure enough, Urokodaki spared Tanjiro none in the future, and spared Roy less now. He didn't wait a day—he had Roy strip to the waist, step under the falls, and start Water Breathing.
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash…"
"Second: Water Wheel… Third: Flowing Dance… Fourth: Striking Tide…"
"No—raise the blade… belly-breathe—not your mouth… remember the power point—core drives the arms, not brute force… and the rhythm, where's the rhythm? Steady, soft—flow like water…"
"So stiff—who are you performing for? At this rate a demon will eat you!"
Urokodaki's teaching, mixed with the hammer of the falls, beat at this uncarved jade again and again.
Sabito and Makomo watched. They'd never heard him say so much. They glanced at each other—speechless.
Master… you're not treating him like a person at all.
Yet Rōichirō didn't make a sound. He focused and learned, and slowly it began to look right—the speed of progress was staggering.
"Water Breathing, Seventh Form: Drop Ripple Thrust!"
Half a day later, Roy lunged—
A cold glint arrived first; ripples spread—borrowing the waterfall's thrust!
A sharp pillar of water ripped the air, slid past Sabito and Makomo's ears, and smashed into a cypress on the bank. Two arms couldn't span it—yet Roy's thrust blew a hole straight through the trunk's heart.
"Notice: 'Water Breathing' activated… EXP +10."
~~~
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