It didn't surprise anyone at all…
A mindless demon was nothing but a monster. The fact that Ginta could regain himself and recover his sanity was entirely thanks to Roy's Nen Exorcism.
Saying Roy saved Ginta wasn't an exaggeration—it was simply the truth.
Honestly… if you switched roles, if it were Ging, Razor, or even Zari—Ginta's closest friend—in Ginta's position, they'd probably have done something even more extreme than that lovable idiot.
Roy accepted the bow without hesitation. Just like in the dream, he raised a hand and helped Ginta up.
"Tell your companion to put his Nen away."
Ginta straightened, looked past Roy at Ging, then at Razor, and finally decided to trust Roy's judgment.
In a booming voice, he shouted, "Zari!"
The Black Curtain trembled. A shadow could be seen inside it—being chased relentlessly by a continuous thread of Nen shots.
Zari's long nose was flaring as he panted, tongue lolling like a dying dog. He was at the end of his rope. Hearing Ginta call him, it was like heavenly music.
He roared, "Stop shooting! I surrender!"
He stumbled out of the black curtain, rolled on the ground, and collapsed flat on his back.
A final Nen round struck the dirt less than a meter from his foot, leaving a small crater.
Gotoh spun the pistol, released the trigger, and as the Black Curtain slowly faded and disappeared—restoring the outside world—he merely exhaled. Not a word. He walked back and took his place behind Roy.
He'd been outputting Nen nonstop for more than five minutes.
Yet Gotoh wasn't red-faced, wasn't gasping, wasn't even visibly drained—as if his aura never ran out.
Razor narrowed his eyes and sized him up.
Such sustained output…
He's not treating aura consumption like it matters at all. Does he have some other way to replenish it?
Amateurs watched for spectacle. Experts watched for method.
Razor had been focused on Roy for so long he hadn't paid much attention to the butler. Now that he did, he started to sense something unsettling about Gotoh—something different from other Emitters.
Gotoh didn't seem to care about "conserving aura."
He wasn't calculating anything.
It was like: use it, spend it, who cares—he'll just get it back.
With that thought, Razor stepped forward.
He walked through the field of bodies—guards sprawled out like they'd all been felled by sleep—moving slowly toward Roy.
Gotoh's gaze sharpened. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and leaned in, whispering, "My lord."
Roy turned.
A large hand extended toward him.
Razor stepped in first and clasped Roy's right hand in a firm grip.
"Razor."
"Roy."
"Zoldyck."
Roy was a head shorter than Razor's towering frame—but his calm, unhurried posture didn't lose out to Razor's presence in the slightest. Standing there, he had the same oppressive steadiness Gotoh associated with Silva:
Silva didn't need to speak. Just standing in place was enough to make employers and targets alike unable to ignore him.
Zoldyck?
Razor immediately twisted his head and glared at Ging again.
More information he "forgot" to mention.
Ging: "..."
He scratched his head.
How did he forget to say that?
He opened his mouth to explain—only for Razor to turn away and give Ging his back, then return to Roy with a softer expression and a tighter grip.
"The world's number one assassin family really lives up to its name. Thank you for the help, Roy Zoldyck."
"It was just a job," Roy replied.
Razor shook his head. "I don't care about that."
He looked Roy straight in the eyes—so serious Roy could see his own reflection in them.
"From today onward, you're a friend I, Razor, acknowledge."
A notification rang out in Roy's mind:
[Notice: Potential follower detected…]
[Potential follower Razor is grateful for the rescue and recognizes your potential…]
[Loyalty: close friend; not yet absolute loyalty; can be trusted…]
[Pending development…]
Roy gave a small nod.
At the same time, he felt something behind him—a gaze full of confusion, disappointment… and a faint hurt.
He looked back.
Ginta was supporting Zari. Between them stood Gotoh. Ginta's usually simple, cheerful face had a rare complexity to it.
His thick lips worked for a long time before he finally said, "He's a criminal. A bad person."
It was a pure, black-and-white judgment—good or bad, nothing in between.
Maybe that purity was what let Ginta grow this far.
And maybe it was also why he could be so easily overwhelmed by backlash—so easily turned into a demon's vessel.
The adult world is too complicated… and he's always been a kid who never really grows up.
Razor's hand loosened as Roy let go.
Roy sighed, rose onto his toes, and gently patted Ginta's forehead.
"If I told you he isn't a criminal… would you believe me?"
Ginta nodded hard. "I'd believe you."
"Good." Roy smiled and shot Ging a look. "Then take it out. I don't believe you didn't prepare it."
The Hunter Association was a "white glove" for the world powers—especially V5—to manage Nen users and state-level problems.
Ging was a professional Hunter. Even if he wasn't a Two-Star yet, he still lived under the Hunter rules.
Unless he wanted to become the enemy of the entire Hunter world, he wouldn't openly commit a prison break with no cover—slapping V5 and the world government in the face.
So when Roy received Elena's "prison break" message, he'd already been sure:
Ging had contingency paperwork.
Sure enough, called out by name, Ging fumbled in his coat and pulled out a crumpled document. He unfolded it and flicked it at Ginta.
"This is the government's release order. Read it."
"Zari." Ginta shoved it into Zari's hands.
Zari—smaller and skinnier, like a monkey beside Ginta—spread it open, scanned it, and nodded.
It really was an official release order, declaring Razor's "release without guilt."
Ginta scratched his head, visibly relieved, and asked bluntly, "If he's not a criminal, why were we protecting him?"
Zari nearly coughed blood.
He'd been maintaining the Black Curtain while being chased for his life by Gotoh's shots.
Roy's panel chimed:
[Notice… Potential follower Ginta, loyalty +10…]
"Because humans…" Roy said with a smile, not looking at Ging or Razor, only ruffling Ginta's wild hair, "are addicted to doing stupid things."
Ging and Razor both twitched at the corner of their mouths. They wanted to argue—yet couldn't find a single argument that landed.
Roy was right.
Even if they'd shown the release order instantly, Razor still would've fought first.
A clash like that was a signal between strong people:
We're on the same tier. Same circle. We can stand together.
A necessary, stubborn kind of "stupid."
"That's super stupid," Ginta said, suddenly enlightened.
Ging & Razor: "..."
Speechless.
Elena, watching through Control the Board, snorted a laugh and withdrew her En. When she arrived, her eyes carried a strange, amused look—making Ging and Razor feel awkward enough to subtly increase the distance between themselves.
Ging cleared his throat.
"Roy… this isn't the place to talk. We should move first?"
Roy didn't answer him. He just spoke softly to Ginta:
"If you feel weird again later, come find me."
Those negative emotions inside living beings could never be completely eradicated.
Just like Ginta's "good and bad," "light and dark"—they were opposites that still coexisted as objective realities. One never existed without the other.
Roy understood clearly: a man like Ginta—determined to protect a region, planning to become a Hunter to hunt poachers—would eventually be emotionally blackmailed by the beasts he protected again.
They would cling to him, feed him belief, dump their darkness into him.
But Roy had already "anchored" himself in Ginta through the potential follower tag.
Ginta's small, clear eyes filled with complicated reluctance.
"How do I find you? You don't want to stay with me?"
Roy blinked, keeping it vague.
"Just call my name in your heart. I'll show up."
But it'll be in a dream, Roy added silently.
Then he turned, nodded once to Ging, and left with Gotoh—alongside Razor and Elena.
"Hey! Roy! You better keep your promise!"
As footsteps faded, Ginta shouted after him.
Roy walked with Ging and Razor on either side, Gotoh and Elena a step behind.
He smiled, lifted his right hand, and waved two fingers lightly.
A cloud caught the sunlight and refracted a rainbow arc—slowly vanishing from Ginta's view as Roy disappeared into the distance.
"…Heh."
Zari watched them go and patted Ginta's thick arm.
"Don't stare, Ginta. He said you'll meet again. You definitely will."
Zari's voice grew low and heavy.
"A Zoldyck never goes unnoticed."
"And honestly…"
"You won't even have to look for him. One day, the whole world will probably be flooded with news about him."
Ginta nodded, dazed but certain.
"Yeah."
One more look—his last—and Roy's group was already gone.
They came as four, left as five.
Evening sank into dusk. In the fading sun, they drove back to Vibbis, found a random hotel, and checked in.
At eight that night, after Gotoh served Roy dinner—Roy even forced him to eat too—they reviewed what happened.
Gotoh kept sneaking glances at Roy, clearly wanting to speak, yet holding back.
"You have something to say?" Roy finally sighed. "Do I really have to teach you even this?"
Gotoh adjusted his glasses. After hesitating, he set his gaze and decided.
"My lord… I have an improper request. Please allow it."
He placed his right hand over his chest and dropped to one knee.
"I want to fight that man."
"Which man?"
"The one we broke out."
"Razor?"
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"He's an Emitter too. And… I can feel he's stronger than me."
"And?"
"I want to test my limits!"
Gotoh raised his head, eyes burning.
"I want to become stronger. I want to know the gap. I want to truly help you!"
Outside the window, neon lights painted the night in silence.
Roy said nothing.
He crushed the tissue in his hand into a ball and flicked it; it arced neatly into the trash bin.
Gotoh swallowed.
Then Roy spoke softly.
"I have no reason to refuse."
Roy stood, grasped Gotoh's arm, and pulled him up.
"If you want to fight, then fight. Since you've thought it through…"
Roy's eyes sharpened.
"Then hit him as hard as you can."
"Yes!" Gotoh stood straight.
He drew Infinite from inside his coat and offered it up.
Roy accepted it—understanding Gotoh had already made up his mind to test himself without relying on external tools.
Roy turned his back and left.
Gotoh leaned against the table, half sitting on its edge.
In the neon glow outside, he silently chambered the pistol—then waited.
About an hour later, the door opened.
Gotoh came back.
Razor was holding him by one hand—literally carrying him like luggage.
"He didn't bring that pistol. Shame."
Razor set the unconscious butler on the sofa and, without asking permission, sat on the dining table beside Roy. He grabbed a fistful of his own blown-up hair and said,
"With the gun, he could've lasted ten more minutes."
Roy shook his head.
"He wouldn't bring it."
"I know he wouldn't," Razor exhaled, openly impressed. "Honestly, he was annoying as hell."
He lifted his shirt, exposing several dark bruises across his ribs.
"Look—these are his."
Then Razor's tone shifted. He glanced at Roy.
"As payment for helping you train your man…"
"Shouldn't you pay me?"
"You just said we're friends," Roy replied evenly. "What kind of friend asks for payment?"
"Even brothers settle accounts."
"Fine. What do you want?"
Razor pointed at Gotoh.
"The secret behind how he keeps outputting for so long."
Razor stared hard at Roy.
"I want to know how he recovers aura that fast."
Roy took the Water Breathing notes,整理成 a small booklet, and tossed it to Razor.
Razor froze, staring at the cover:
Water Breathing
He looked up at Roy again.
"…I didn't expect you to just give it to me."
Razor stepped down from the table.
"I thought you'd favor your subordinate and refuse."
He stood tall, shadowing Roy with his frame, eyes narrowed.
"Aren't you worried he'll fall even further behind me?"
Roy ignored him, walked past, and tucked a blanket over Gotoh so he could sleep more comfortably.
His voice was calm.
"He'll surpass you sooner or later. So it's fine."
Razor: "..."
You brat… look at me when you talk!
~~~
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