"Wave–particle duality" emphasizes that the microscopic particles that make up matter possess both particle and wave properties. If you also fold in string theory, you can interpret it as: the most fundamental unit that composes all matter is, in fact, strands of energy-string lines…
In other words, this world—and everything it contains—is an entangled state formed by the union of "materiality" and "energy," of "real and unreal." It can be an integer dimension like 1D, 2D, 3D… but it can also be 1.5, 2.5, 3.5—the cracks between those integer dimensions.
And the rare beast that got recorded through the [Monster Index]—[Feccha's Parrot]—seems to live inside those dimensional fissures. No idea which backwater corner Ging dug up something this ridiculous from… maybe it really was like that "Feccha" back in the day—half-asleep, stumbling into some interdimensional trip…
[Note: Feccha's Parrot]
[Visible Aura: A (4,584,144 / 10,000,000)]
[Potential Aura: S (74,154,314 / 100,000,000)]
[Rank: S]
[Racial Nen Ability: Parrot Mimicry] (Note: by what it sees and hears, it can immediately imitate an opponent's movements)… [Comprehension: S+]
No wonder Ging always lets himself take a hit first. Like after Netero died, when Ging showed up at the Hunter Association chairman election and got launched by Leorio's sudden uppercut from under the table—only to later team up with Pariston and betray Beyond, then imitate Leorio's Nen ability [Thought Radar]…
Forming radar-like wavebands in his hand, touching the ground to probe enemy movement, then firing directional Nen bullets to blow the target away—Ging's so-called "immunity to strike-type attacks," his so-called "copying"…
It's very possible he's been leaning on that phantom parrot that suddenly peeks out from his shoulder.
"Chirp—" The parrot trilled. Its pea-sized eyes rolled, cleanly reproduced Razor's earlier Nen shot, and transmitted it to Ging through their "Nen connection," building a kind of "mental corridor."
Ging steadied his hood. Then, facing Razor, he flicked his finger—
A Nen bullet nearly identical to Razor's screamed in. Razor tilted his head and dodged; the shot punched through the [Black Curtain] and detonated outside.
Even just the tremor coming up through the ground made the bullet's power obvious.
"Mimicry? So that's your ability?" Razor's temple was singed where the bullet's residual energy grazed him. He narrowed his slit-like eyes; a cold glint flashed in the crack…
Ging casually stroked Feccha's Parrot, then spared a sidelong glance at Roy—who was steaming with heat, blades crossed, still holding off Ginta's Horned Demon punch.
"Bang!" Sword-wind and fist-force collided. Both fighters were forced back a step, the shockwave whipping up a howling gust…
Ging rolled up his sleeves and grinned at Razor. "Let's finish this fast. I'm on a schedule."
"Why the rush?" Razor folded his arms and glanced at the parrot.
As if it had spotted something fascinating, the parrot craned its neck toward Roy—then abruptly flapped up and landed on Roy's head.
Razor's mouth curled in mocking amusement. "So even you know what it's like… not being able to control your own Nen beast."
Ging's brow twitched. Through the "mental corridor" he called to it: "Sakura. Come back."
The parrot tucked its wings, looked at Ging, then chirped down at him: "Chirp~"
Roy, mid-fight with Ginta, felt the movement overhead and flicked his eyes up, startled. Right after "Sakura," the golden crow burst out of Roy's body—Goldie flared its wings and popped up beside the parrot, bobbing its tigerish little head as it curiously inspected it… just like Sakura was inspecting him.
Ging: "..."
His emotions surged—then he received the parrot's "thought" through the corridor:
"Look what I found, Ging—our kind."
"A peer with the same rank as me!"
[Note: Goldie — Three-Legged Golden Crow]
[Rank: S+]
That lazy fat "chicken" that usually loafed on Roy's head… was the same kind of rare beast that wandered the "real/unreal" cracks.
Ging shot Goldie a surprised look.
Then another Nen shot screamed in—Razor, seizing the gap while the parrot was gone, had closed in and fired!
Meanwhile Roy spread his blades again—just as Ginta's [Hard]-wrapped punch came crashing down. For a moment it almost looked like Razor and Ginta were working together, which was… absurdly ironic.
"No time to babysit Ging," Roy thought. Wind pressure slammed into him, whipping his black hair back and tangling the little tufted "cowlicks" on both Goldie and Sakura's heads. Roy met the punch head-on again.
And then, out of nowhere, an information stream poured into his mind.
It broke down Ginta's punch in detail—his force generation, timing, technique, even the [Hard] coating that wrapped that fist bigger than a sandbag—
Every last thread of it, perfectly, brutally, directly injected into Roy.
The panel chime rang immediately:
[Notice: Nen Nature Change +100… +100… +100…]
[Advanced Technique: [Hard] unlocked]
[Note: [Hard]: Lv1 (15/100)]
In a blink, Roy felt his understanding of Nen deepen.
"My fire still isn't hot enough. My magnetism still isn't strong enough. My understanding of the sun is still too shallow—still stuck in physical metaphors. That's why my Bankai temperature still isn't high enough…"
"Chirp—" Feccha's Parrot nuzzled Goldie affectionately, then flapped back to Ging's shoulder.
Ging punched away a Nen bullet with a [Hard]-wrapped fist, and the moment he did, both he and Razor—almost in sync—stopped. As if they'd sensed something, they turned their heads toward Roy at the same time.
Roy's intuition crystallized. The instant [Hard] awakened, he lifted his gaze to the sky. In his ink-black eyes, two suns ignited—responding across the [Black Curtain] to the real sun overhead.
Then his [Ren] snapped inward, entirely, compressing into the short blade newly conjured in his right hand.
Three swords. Three-sword style? Everyone's eyes widened.
Ginta's Horned Demon felt a spike of dread. Looking down, he saw Roy holding a sword in each hand—and a third, the cane-sword, clenched between his teeth. But more unsettling than that…
In Roy's right hand, the blade became unnaturally still. It darkened, then reddened—then began to smoke.
Ginta's instinct screamed. He hardened his heart, swung both arms wide, and clapped his palms together with a thunderous sonic boom.
At that moment—
A soft, almost reverent murmur:
"Bankai."
A razor-thin black line sliced through the soundwave, blooming faintly in everyone's eyes…
Elena, still monitoring from her "god's-eye view," suddenly clutched her eyes. Pain flared. She instinctively ducked her head, and her blue-light glasses fell off her nose and clattered into the dirt.
"What was that black line?! And that sword—!"
That black blade, faintly smoking—plain as can be—burned itself into her mind anyway.
She steadied her breathing, picked her glasses back up, and only then heard the name of the blade.
Roy's casual swing carried ten-thousand-degree heat. With [Hard] backing it, the slash was nearly four thousand degrees hotter than before. It met Ginta's double-palmed shockwave—
And Ginta recoiled in pain, black blood spraying.
"Th-thump thump thump…" The Horned Demon staggered back, leaving cratered footprints.
Roy stood like a pine rooted in rock and spoke softly to the short blade:
"Sorry. That one's on me. I forgot to name you two."
He raised the short blade in his right hand. "You are Eclipse."
He lowered his eyes to the cane-sword in his mouth. "You are Waning Moon."
Both blades trembled—two sharp sword cries shot into the sky.
Ging and Razor exchanged a look.
For once, neither moved to strike the other. Both simply watched the boy standing there with three swords, silently "conversing" with them—until the same thought surfaced in both minds:
From today onward, among the world's top-tier monsters…
there is room for a boy in white.
"I know an old man," Ging said, eyes burning as he stared at Roy. "He once said he likes to pray with his fists—because he's grateful for the 'martial arts' that saved him."
"I think… he'd be thinking the same thing right now."
Razor didn't know who Ging meant, but anyone who could reach that kind of state wasn't some nobody.
Ging added, "His name is Netero."
Razor's gaze sharpened. Then, looking at Roy, he muttered,
"That kid's love for the sword… might not be less than the so-called strongest human."
Ging's smile deepened. "Honestly… I think so too."
Then he extended his right hand to Razor. "Welcome aboard."
Razor gave him a side-eye. "Don't get full of yourself. You know whose face I'm saving."
"Snap." Their hands clasped.
Ging laughed low, saying nothing more.
Hidden inside the Black Curtain, Zari watched this and felt his heart go cold.
Gotoh's Infinite pistol spat Nen shots—so continuous it looked like a straight line of light—tracking Zari no matter where he ran.
Zari fled in panic, wanting to hold out until Ginta crushed Roy and came to help. But the moment he saw Ginta's hands get shaved by the thin sweep of that "Bankai blade," two chunks of flesh erased clean off…
Zari's throat locked. The words "request support" died inside him.
I can't distract him—
If Ginta's mind breaks… he'll go berserk… and if he goes berserk…
Zari had been with Ginta the longest. He'd hunted "poachers" alongside him. He'd seen what Ginta looked like when he truly lost control.
He didn't know what he'd run into that day—only that his vision went heavy…
…and when he woke up, he'd been in a hospital bed for ten days.
As for the "poachers"… they were there too.
Not as patients.
As vegetables.
Doctors had said their brains were permanently damaged, like something had been eaten out of them.
"RRAAAHH!"
Pain. Pain. Pain—so much pain.
The scorching sword-light erased a slab of Ginta's palms. The burn and stab surged like a flood. Ginta's once-clear, slightly dopey eyes began to turn red.
Then he threw his head back and roared.
Black smoke burst from his mouth.
A real, tangible whisper—like a demon speaking through the Horned Demon—slithered through the smoke and poured into every crack it could find.
Ging, Razor, Gotoh, Elena—everyone's minds jolted.
Suddenly they felt irritable.
Violent.
Restless.
Like they wanted to smash something.
Destroy something.
Eyes threatened to tint toward blood.
"Bang!" Ging punched through the side of a nearby van and barked, "Don't think. Hold your mind steady! That smoke is negative emotion—if it gets in, it'll eat your will and wreck your brain!"
He narrowed his eyes at Roy—because the thickest part of the smoke was swallowing Roy whole.
Roy's face, hidden from Ging and Razor, remained bright and clear—almost… curious.
"Demonic whisper… using negative emotion to invade the will?"
Roy lifted his chin and met Ginta's giant crimson stare.
He didn't know if this was Ginta's Nen ability or a kind of "natural backlash" that had rotted inside him for years, impossible to cleanse.
But Roy's mouth curved.
He let it in.
He shut his eyes.
And inside Roy's unconscious domain, the black smoke gathered and condensed—
Into the shape of a horned, red-eyed "Ginta," small enough to walk like a man.
The demon snorted and began ramming around, searching for Roy's "core."
Unconscious domains had no real time or space. Searching forever was the same as searching for one second.
So it searched.
And searched.
And then—
It found it.
Roy's "heart-core."
A sun, rising and spilling light, nourishing all things—gentle and yet terrifying, thunder and rain both contained.
The sun.
~~~
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