"Heh heh heh, the child's wings have grown strong."
In his small, yellow-lit bedroom, Maha rocked his chair, watching cartoons with a smile. At one moment, his ears twitched—a flicker of Nen enhancing his hearing before instantly subsiding.
At that time, the TV was showing "The Stubborn Father and His Stubborn Son." Father and son were arguing fiercely over a toy. Seeing he couldn't out-argue his son, the belt was about to be drawn from the waist.
The door creaked open. Silver-haired Zeno wheeled in a small food cart. "Grandfather seems in good spirits today."
The cart stopped, covers lifted. Besides the old man's usual favorite, red wine-braised beef with vegetable soup and bread, there was an additional plate of minced meat with eggplant.
"The kitchen researched a new dish today, supposedly invented by that Roy boy. Since Grandfather loves it, I brought a plate." Zeno had just tasted it in the kitchen—indeed quite good, a flavor he'd never experienced before.
"Heh heh... this old man must be very important today, having such a busy person like you deliver my meal. Remarkable... remarkable." Maha feigned meditation, his eyes acknowledging neither the food nor Zeno, rocking his chair and huffing.
Beside him, Zeno wasn't bothered. He ladled a bowl of vegetable soup, tore bread into strips to soak in it, pretending not to hear the sarcasm, and naturally moved behind Maha to massage his shoulders.
"Kikyo was poisoned. A new butler did it. Silva had it investigated. The culprit had a clean background, an honest person with no deep grudge against our family—pure coincidence."
Zeno's slender hands moved from Maha's neck toward his shoulder blades. "Grandfather knows, for families like ours, we don't fear being targeted; we fear various coincidences."
Zeno rarely explained so much. "Comfortable," Maha huffed again. "After all this talk, aren't you just worried about the 'curse' manifesting?"
Maha straightened his back slightly, letting Zeno reach his back, squinting as he said leisurely, "What's fated can't be avoided. Worrying is useless."
"Grandfather's teachings are wise."
"I'm not teaching you. I just find you annoying."
"Do you find Roy annoying?"
"That's my good grandson. Can you compare?"
"I am too—"
"You?" The old man raised his chin, pointing at the door. "Get out."
Then Zeno was unceremoniously chased out.
Grandfather was still that grandfather—Zeno only needed to know this. He showed no anger. Instead, a faint smile played at his lips as he stood outside the old man's door for a while. Then with hands behind his back, he strolled through the corridor filled with the scent of years, unknowingly walking toward Roy's bedroom.
Roy had instructed Gotoh, grabbed Yukigakure, and just emerged from around the corner when he noticed him face-to-face.
Bowing slightly, he said respectfully, "Grandfather."
The young man's black hair fell, illuminated by morning glow, thick and lustrous—just like young Zeno, vaguely creating an illusion, as if returning momentarily to those verdant years he infinitely missed every time he woke.
"Mm." Zeno looked Roy up and down, his gaze freezing momentarily on Yukigakure, then making a noncommittal sound before stepping past him.
"The sword in your hand is good. Unfortunately, it followed a poor master. He offered me a hundred million to kill his master. I thought the cost-benefit ratio was poor, so I killed him instead. Hope this time it won't follow the wrong person again."
Zeno walked away with his back to Roy, his steps creating a teleportation effect, quickly disappearing from view.
Roy had heard from Gotoh about Yukigakure's past. He gently stroked the blade, standing in place for a while. When the brilliant morning glow reached his neck, the young man finally moved, turning away from Zeno's direction toward the training room.
Morning was still routine training. Luke, the butler responsible for electric shock, was already in position. Seeing Roy push open the door, he switched from a five-hundred-thousand-volt electric baton to one million volts.
"The master said starting today, the young master's training volume doubles." Luke bowed to Roy as usual.
Roy looked at him calmly. "Wasn't morning training cancelled?"
Gotoh had just said they'd test the brothers' Nen types this morning. He didn't believe Luke didn't know about this.
"Only Young Master Illumi doesn't need training. You must." Luke was succinct.
Roy held Luke's gaze, unblinking, when he suddenly sensed someone watching. He whipped his head toward the window.
Silva stood quietly by the window, silently watching him. His tall figure seemed to block even the newly risen sun.
In that instant, Roy suddenly understood—the other party had already overheard his conversation with Gotoh before Gotoh could act.
'So this is the corresponding punishment?'
Roy met Silva's gaze without courtesy. Electric currents seemed to collide in the air.
Young butler Luke, caught between father and son, maintained his bowing posture, not daring to breathe. After a long while, he finally heard Silva speak.
"What did you call me?"
"Father."
"That's not what you said at dawn."
"You also know that was dawn." Roy took a deep breath, letting sunlight leap over Silva's head to fall on his face, adding, "Now it's morning."
Silva remained silent. After a moment: "Shock him."
Luke received the order, straightened, grabbed the electric baton, said "sorry" to Roy, and jabbed it into his chest.
Electric arcs flashed. A million volts of electricity poured down. Roy's mouth visibly twitched, and then he began shaking. But he remained standing straight, forcing himself not to fall, stubbornly looking at Silva.
Until he fainted.
At nine o'clock in the morning, Roy slowly woke. As it turned out, after being electrocuted unconscious, there was no way to switch to "deep sleep" mode.
When he discovered he wasn't in the shrine but still lying on the training room floor, Roy croaked to Luke, who was giving him water, "How long was I out?"
"Young master, half an hour and three minutes."
That long.
Roy turned to look outside. Sunlight steamed the earth, bringing summer heat, but Silva's figure was gone. He struggled up from the ground, staggered back several steps, and sat down again—his body clearly hadn't fully recovered with his consciousness.
"Young master, be careful not to sit on Young Master Illumi." Luke, having finished giving Roy water, quickly reminded him.
Only then did Roy realize something soft was beneath him. Looking down, Illumi lay on the ground, his long, straight black hair transformed into an afro.
"Why is he here?"
"Young Master Illumi finished his type testing and came to the training room. Hearing you'd switched electric batons, he also insisted on switching. I had no choice but to agree, so... you see."