Being a servant of the Zoldyck Family is a matter of pride.
Being a Zoldyck is even more so.
Once upon a time, Zeno considered himself a proud person, and from past to present, he's always been that way.
But seeing the young man before him, who looked almost identical to his younger self except for the hair color, he had to admit he was humbled.
"Hohoho..." Zeno stared at Roy, letting out a low laugh: "Freedom... is a very expensive thing."
"Most people dream of it but can't attain it, I hope you succeed."
"I'll do my best."
"Is that so?"
Zeno gave him a deep look,
"Doing your best isn't enough, you have to give it your all."
With that, he walked past him with his hands behind his back... his toes barely touching the ground, flickering... flickering... like teleporting, quickly leaving the corridor and disappearing from sight.
Roy stayed in place, silently watching for a while under the sunset. Then he lifted his foot, and similarly, flickering... flickering, he drifted towards his bedroom in the opposite direction.
To reach the pinnacle, one must start with the Great Success of "Dark Step."
...
"Seventeen thousand eight hundred and twelve..."
"Seventeen thousand eight hundred and thirteen..."
"Hey~ Sabito, I've lost count..."
In the Snow Country, within Roy's world of cognition,
Makomo stuck out her tongue in complaint... the boy continuously slicing downward beneath the birch tree, like a tireless machine, over and over challenging her perception.
"Then don't stress yourself." Ghosts aren't human, they don't have a physical form, it's impossible for them to hold a pen to record,
Sabito understood Makomo's feelings; even just counting over ten thousand times is a test of will and concentration for ordinary people.
We can only blame Eiichiro Oda; he's too unconventional.
"No, hold on a bit longer, we're almost at twenty thousand." The girl patted her cheeks, cheering herself on.
Since she was willing to persist, Sabito wisely didn't advise anymore. After all... compared to those numb guys with Shinsuke Fukuda, Makomo really was a person of great perseverance.
"Eighteen thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight..."
"Nineteen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine..."
"Twenty thousand!"
The blade sank into the stump, splitting it in half, the cut surface smooth as a mirror, reflecting Roy's slightly steaming young face, highlighting his extraordinary demeanor.
In six days, from ten thousand to twenty thousand, Roy achieved the small goal he set earlier, completing two rounds of "Ten Thousand Basic Swings" in a day.
But this wasn't his limit.
"Add two thousand more tomorrow."
Urokodaki Sakonji emerged from the dense forest, saying the same words to Roy as he had in the previous days.
The expression under the Celestial Dog Mask of the old man was indistinct, but Sabito and Makomo, who had spent day and night with him since childhood, could vaguely sense... his heart was not as calm as he appeared through the gesture of his clenched fist.
"The Master wants to see where Eiichiro Oda's limit lies," Makomo whispered.
"Don't you want to see?"
"I do... but if it's more than this, I won't be able to count..."
Makomo spat playfully at Sabito.
Sabito shook his head with a smile, and this time, Giyu did not pop into his mind,
A peak of three thousand swings is incomparable to nineteen thousand swings not yet at the limit.
Sabito could almost conclude that once Eiichiro Oda emerged from the mountain, he would definitely astonish everyone, whether they were Evil Ghosts or the Demon Slayer Corps.
"Perhaps the Master is also looking forward to that..."
Sabito silently glanced at Urokodaki Sakonji... The Old Water Hashira left with a simple "Dinner," and turned to leave.
His waist seemed to not withstand the erosion of time, showing faint signs of bending.
[Hint: Swordsmanship +17]
Another night passed, accompanied by the wooden clock in the corner striking.
Nearly drained, Roy followed Urokodaki Sakonji to hastily have a few bites of dinner, climbed onto the fire-heated bed early,
and slept until morning. Then upon opening his eyes, he was back at Kukuroo Mountain... feeling that uninterested weariness.
Fortunately, after a few days of adjustment, he opted to linger in bed a bit longer until the weariness completely faded, then got up for a run.
Thanks to the Great Success of "Dark Step," Roy's speed was getting faster and faster, even though he tried to control his pace. He still made it past the castle and butler's villa before dawn, reaching the "Gate of Trial" at the mountain's base.
"Good morning, young master." Zebro saw him from a distance, respectfully removing his cap to salute him.
Roy nodded at him, looking past his high-raised hairline, just in time to hear a loud "boom" as the Gate of Trial, rumored externally as the "Gate of the Underworld," was opened in three parts, with a figure walking out.
"Good morning, Master Illumi." Zebro placed his cap back on.
Illumi, holding a human head in his hand, walked past him and tossed it; Mikai smelled it, rushed over, and swallowed the head whole.
"Not enough to fill the gaps between my teeth..." Mikai stared discontentedly at Illumi, seemingly grumbling...
It came rushing in, only to leave full of disappointment.
Illumi paid it no mind, treating its resentful gaze as air. His eyes fixed on the returning Roy, he said, "From today, I have eighty-one victories too."
Evidently, the head fed to Mikai was likely the Emission Nen user who blocked him at Heavens Arena.
What a pity...
"Not consecutive wins."
Roy gave a casual glance, kindly reminding him, and then began running up the mountain.
Illumi's forehead veins instantly popped, staring at his departing silhouette, shouting loudly, "You just wait."
His hands quietly clenched into fists.
"Heh..." What responded to him was Roy's soft laugh and his soon-to-disappear silhouette.
Whether you come or not, I'll be here, under the same roof, what's all this about waiting?
If you've got the guts, bring it on.
Roy took off, with his earrings flying, returning to his room two minutes faster than expected, showered, and sat at the dining table, waiting for Wutong to serve.
Today's sandwich was changed to a cheese flavor,
he flipped through the notebook his great-grandfather gave him while listening to Wutong report today's training plan, only when he heard "Sir" from Wutong did he close the book and look at him.
"Sir called earlier, he'll be home tonight, and tomorrow morning he will test you."
The young butler adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, expressing concern: "Therefore, I suggest you cancel today's training plan and rest well for a day."
The training plan was set in stone; unless Silva said otherwise, who would dare cancel it?
Roy finished his sandwich, took out a napkin, and methodically wiped his mouth: "No need, tell Luke to meet me in the training room, whether or not he can knock me out is still uncertain."
He glanced at the panel,
[Constitution: 12.05→13.05]
A few days of practicing "Sun Breathing"...
Successfully increased by one point, equivalent to having another ordinary person, presumably...
He can endure longer.