Among them were Razor, Gotoh, Elena… and Ging…
Those images played through Roy's mind like strips of film. His consciousness sank into them, and he stepped into the closest one—Razor's heart.
It was a vast wilderness, packed with every memory Razor had from childhood to now. In the middle stood a tall man with his arms folded, back to Roy, face blank as he watched his memories replay frame by frame.
He murmured, "So it's you."
Razor reached out and grabbed one frame: a scene from when he was little—his drunk father beating him, Razor gritting his teeth and taking it, while his mother wrapped him in her arms and tried to shield him.
"Cry? Cry what? Fuck you—if it weren't for you two dragging me down, I'd be living like a king!"
Smack. Smack.
The father's curses… the belt whipping across the woman's back… her shriek… and the boy trembling in her arms, eyes full of terror—each frame stuttered by in brutal clarity.
Roy walked up and stood beside Razor.
Razor said, "If you want my story, ask. I'll tell you. You don't need to snoop."
Roy said calmly, "If I say I didn't mean to, would you believe me?"
His body was in the Hunter world, his mind was in Demon Slayer—yet he still watched, in that frame, the man get tired, stagger over, grab the woman by the hair and drag her into the bedroom, lock the door, leaving little Razor outside—slamming the door with both hands, helpless.
Roy added, "I just had an insight and didn't control the heat. Don't take it personally."
Razor looked at him. "What ability is this?"
"Heart-Worm. You should've noticed—anyone who's tied to me, I can send a heart-worm along the causal thread and break into their inner field, read their memories and past."
Razor clicked his tongue. "That's sick."
He let the scene drift away, then turned to Roy seriously. "I'm suddenly kind of regretting meeting you."
If you so much as have ties to this kid, your whole past gets peeled open—what's the difference from stripping naked and sprinting in front of him?
Roy shook his head. "It's not that exaggerated. The deeper the tie, the more I can read. Like…"
Roy pointed at the drunk in the memory. "I can't see his memories or past."
"That's my dad." Razor said flatly. "A drunk, abusive bastard. Nothing worth knowing."
Roy nodded. "So you killed him?"
"He was asking for it—and… I didn't kill him."
Razor reached into his river of memories again and pulled out a new reel:
A woman cornered by four or five men, clutching her chest, screaming "No," arms forced apart, clothes ripped away—assaulted for nearly two hours, until a young Razor made it home…
She lay there naked—like a doll that had been torn apart—yet when she saw Razor, she still forced a smile. Then she stood, walked into the sunlight, spread her arms, closed her eyes, grabbed the windowsill… and tipped forward.
Thud.
With that dull impact, she became a blooming, dying splatter of red.
"Mom!"
Roy heard the child's scream, saw little Razor lunge for the window, fingers closing on nothing—and then, in sheer despair, a Nen storm exploded from him.
Roy fell silent.
For an ordinary person to awaken Nen, there were basically three routes: born with it and open their nodes through meditation; forced open by another Nen-user; or pushed open by an extreme shock.
Razor was clearly the third.
"I killed the ones who did it… those men…" Razor's hand moved again, scooping memory after memory—him hunting down the brutes who'd assaulted his mother, extorted the property, forced her to jump.
"Hays… Black… Mauli… Thorne…"
The last one was just a few days ago—his head blown apart by Razor's Nen bullet.
Adrian Red.
By then he'd already become a minor underworld boss. In the memory, he was on top of his lover when Razor smashed in through the window, grabbed him by the neck like a chicken, and punched him dead.
Clap clap clap.
Roy applauded lightly. "Good kill."
Razor let out a breath, almost relieved. "That's what I think too. If Mom can see this from wherever she is, she'd think so too."
Roy said softly, "She will."
Roy had only skimmed Razor's story when Razor suddenly asked, "So… can I still break ties with you?"
At the same time, the panel chimed in Roy's ear:
[Notice: Your "potential believer" Razor, due to opening his heart to you, Loyalty +5.]
Roy: "…"
He glanced at Razor, then gave him a sly grin. "Too late. Ging said the same thing."
Razor laughed under his breath. "Heh. Guess I boarded a pirate ship."
"Tell me about it."
Roy blinked, and his awareness began to thin. He withdrew from Razor's heart through the heart-worm, then slipped—like a current—into Ging's heart.
Seaside Hotel, Room 7403…
Ging stood in his wide inner field, eyes shut, consciousness sunk deep. A parrot perched on his shoulder. He stared at a scene replaying in front of him: a younger Ging in a green tracksuit, spiky hair, carrying a fishing rod with a red bead, talking to a future Ging—older, stubbled.
Ging spoke, and after a long pause he said to Roy, who had appeared beside him, "Honestly, I always figured the Zoldycks must have deep foundations to sit at the top as the world's number-one assassin family, but…"
He turned his head toward Roy. "I didn't think it'd be this deep."
His eyes gleamed as he studied Roy. "If Silva Zoldyck and Zeno Zoldyck are anything like you—abilities popping out one after another—that's terrifying."
"You get scared too?"
"Of course."
Ging shot Roy a look, then pointed at the younger Ging in the memory. "Don't let him turn around. I'm not ready to see him yet."
"You know who he is?" Roy's brows twitched.
Ging folded his arms and snorted. "Who else? My son."
"Dragon-slayers become dragons. If you can see the future," Roy said evenly, meeting his eyes, "then you've stepped onto this road too."
Ging's gaze was cold. "You're showing your thread, Roy."
He hooked a thin line up with his toe—an ivory strand linking him and Roy. Their causal thread, born from connection.
Roy's eyes narrowed. "So you can see it."
Ging's expression didn't shift. "Didn't I tell you? Predict the future, and the future bites back."
He pinched the thread between two fingers. It looked like a nen thread—same color, same texture—yet it wouldn't pull, wouldn't burn, wouldn't break. Unless you erased each other from memory entirely, it would remain until both ends died.
Crack.
Three seconds of "future glimpse" expired. The image—Gon meeting Ging atop a dead world tree—shattered like glass.
Ging exhaled, and that breath carried something like regret. Then he looked back at Roy and said, "Razor doesn't know about faith. He's never even thought about it. But you… Roy Zoldyck—one day you'll walk the one-way road called faith."
Roy stared back. "So you've read New Continent Travelogue?"
"Have you been to the Dark Continent?"
"No."
"No."
In that endless inner field, man and boy answered at the same time—then fell silent. For a heartbeat, it felt like they were staring across time at another version of themselves—both born with the same hunger for exploration.
Then Ging's past began to play out like a flood of frames across the screen of his heart:
Warm moments on Whale Island with Mito… the first time he pulled the "Swamp King" from a forest river… the day he left Mito, wiping a little girl's tears and swearing he'd come back—then never returning, because he went to the Hunter Exam, then ruins, then deeper and deeper—
Until Roy saw one frame: Ging opening an ice coffin… helping a woman out…
The moment that image trembled—
Ging flicked his sleeves once, and the whole scene vanished.
Roy caught the change and memorized the woman's face without a word.
Ging said flatly, "That's my wife. Whatever's between us isn't something you need to see."
The moment he spoke, Roy felt a push of rejection. His awareness faded, and he withdrew from Ging's heart.
Then, guided by the third and fourth heart-worms, he skimmed through Gotoh's and Elena's past as well—before returning to Demon Slayer.
Roy woke from his "meditative trance." There was already a ring of people around him:
Gyomei. Kyojuro. Giyu. Sanemi. Muichiro… all nine Hashira.
Roy smiled and shared the cultivation method for "Nen"—what they called "divine power"—namely the Four Major Principles. Little by little, he absorbed and buried the remaining images in his mind.
Then, with Kagaya and the Hashira, he began to discuss the operation plan to hunt down Kibutsuji Muzan.
"I understand Muzan," Kagaya said. Sitting up under the noon sun, his body already feeling lighter after the curse's removal, he spoke a little faster, with more breath behind his words. "By nature he's sensitive, paranoid… and cowardly."
He continued, "So like I told you before, based on our recent intel, he's likely to turtle up again—wait until you die, then come out."
That was true. Compared to a demon's long lifespan, humans were mayflies. And Roy still had a curse timer on his own life. He wasn't going to play Muzan's waiting game.
"Blue spider lily…" Roy's mouth curved faintly. "Then we'll see if he can resist the temptation of becoming a perfect being…"
Early morning, Taishō Year 2—Hunter Calendar 1987—April 27.
After an all-night Hashira meeting, after accepting the nine Hashira into his fold, Roy and Kagaya finalized a plan centered on the blue spider lily.
That night Roy left the estate, casually killed a few demons on the way, collected thirty points of life energy, then used "deep sleep" to pass through the dream tunnel back to the Hunter world.
As usual: morning run, then breakfast at the hotel restaurant with Gotoh—preparing to head for the undersea ruins and hunt the "Baku," the key to reverse materialization.
Today's breakfast: mashed potatoes with chickpeas, sausage and eggs with buttered bread, plus a fresh seafood soup.
Roy ate slowly while Gotoh served him. He ordered his butler to sit and eat too—no need for stiff rules when they were outside.
Scrape— chairs pulled back. Two men and a woman sat down in a row.
Ging and Razor sat beside Roy; Elena pushed up her blue-light glasses and looked his way.
Roy calmly shoveled a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth, acting like he knew nothing about last night.
A dry cough broke the awkwardness. Ging signaled Elena.
Elena shot Roy one more look, steadied her emotions—remembering how he'd suddenly appeared in her "dream" last night—and projected a blue, translucent screen using her Nen ability "Total Control."
"I've already rented a boat," she said. "We leave at 9 a.m. Estimated arrival at the target waters around 2 p.m. After that…"
She swept her gaze across the group. "You'll need your own methods. You'll have to withstand the pressure to reach the seafloor and enter the ruins."
Humans can't dive forever. Pressure, thinning oxygen—down there it's basically no oxygen at all. For normal people, reaching the bottom is impossible.
Roy finished, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and glanced at Ging. No way Ging had done research and come unprepared.
"Water Avoidance," Ging said, taking over. "It's a Nen ability I picked up. It lets me go in and out of the deep sea without being limited by pressure or oxygen. The condition is…"
He held up three fingers. "Including me, I can only bring two people."
Meaning: besides Ging and Elena, only two among Roy, Razor, and Gotoh could be carried. The third would need a solution.
"I don't need it," Roy said.
Pressure and oxygen ultimately test heart-lung function—exactly what Breathing methods specialize in. Even without Sun Breathing, Roy's control over respiration was absurd. And even just Water Breathing, with its "blend into water" nature, made him move underwater like a fish.
Gotoh answered in the same breath. "I don't need it either."
Master and servant—same thought. Gotoh had already realized it.
Razor stared at them, thoughtful. "Is it the Water Breathing?"
Ging and Elena both raised their brows. "?"
~~~
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