Chapter 180: Maha's Past x Charity in Meteor City
The multicolored dream tunnel opened a path, swirling with hazy dream mist...
Roy stepped in, and the world instantly shifted. He arrived in a realm of grey fog...
According to Enmu's understanding of "dreams," an ordinary person's unconscious domain cannot conjure anything tangible. Only those with exceptionally strong "self-awareness" can manifest elements in their "dream," such as... Kyojuro Rengoku's core of flame, Father Silva's study, or Kastro conjuring Gotoh to beat him up...
Compared to them, Roy looked up at the boundless, grey, misty world. Clearly...
Compared to Great-Great-Grandfather Maha, who directly manifested a small world through his "self-awareness," Kyojuro Rengoku, Kastro, and even Father Silva... were far, far behind!
A powerful Nen user is not necessarily a person of strong will; conversely, a person of strong will is always powerful, regardless of Nen ability!
Roy walked in on a gust of wind, the fallen leaves rustling under his feet.
Maha's dry, small body stood beneath a colossal, withered willow tree. Years ago, the tree had suffered a lightning strike. Parts of the trunk were carbonized (lightning-struck wood). Roy took a breath and could smell the burnt scent. Closer, he noticed a small cluster of flames silently burning on the tree, reflecting the vast, somber, and silent cemetery below...
One... two... ten... hundreds... thousands... millions!
Countless gravestones stretched row after row to the horizon, beyond sight. And Maha... stood before the gravestone in the very front, his back to Roy. "This is the cost of walking the path of 'Faith'."
The light sentence fell from Maha's lips, yet it weighed a thousand pounds, pressing down on Roy until he could not speak. The boy walked silently to Maha's side, watching his withered hand rub the towering gravestone. Inscribed on it:
[Brooke Sail. My most intimate brother and comrade. Born 1874, West Bleus. Died 1957, Frostfall Valley.]
[A Great Warrior... Pioneer of the Resistance... Loyalty was his name... Fearlessness was his life.]
[—1957, Maha Zoldyck]*
Roy gradually realized. His gaze followed Maha's upward and downward movement as the old man narrated the life of this "Brooke Sail."
The old man said, "You guessed right. He was once my chief general."
"And him... her... it..." Maha's withered hand touched gravestone after gravestone, slowly moving through the graveyard, like traveling through the past, recounting the stories of Randall, Mike Young, Lyoren, Beluchi... all those who had followed him to form a group, an organization, a political party, settling in Frostfall Valley to shelter outcasts and resist magical beasts, seeking a way out under the double assault of [God] and [Calamity].
This was a story Roy had never heard...
It was the origin story of all the Zoldycks, including himself!
"The world only knows that if one person ascends to godhood—be they a chicken or a dog—everyone following them sheds their outcast status and establishes themselves on the Dark Continent. But most people don't know that..."
Maha stopped before the last gravestone on the right in the first row. He stroked the stone. Unlike the others, this one had a faded, yellowed photograph—the woman in the photo was gentle, beautiful, and smiling, despite the photo's age.
Maha paused and said softly, "Failure is the silent majority, and it will always follow one's life."
He then turned his head to Roy. "Come here. Meet your Great-Grandmother."
Roy followed Maha silently. Below the yellowed photo, he clearly saw: [Beloved Wife Betty Zoldyck. Born 1895, West Bleus. Died 1957, Frostfall Valley.]
His expression solemn, he stepped forward slowly, bowed deeply, and stood straight. Recalling the dream under the willow tree in the courtyard long ago, where Zzigg shouted about going to the Dark Continent only to be beaten half to death by Maha, Roy took a breath. "Great-Great-Grandfather, did Grandpa Zzigg come here too?"
"Did he... see Great-Grandmother?"
Maha didn't answer. He stooped down and pulled out a few weeds near the gravestone. "I didn't invite him. He forced his way in."
"[Game of the Dead] allows you to collect 'items' to increase fighting strength."
"He got in with a 'Slumber' card back then..."
That sounds like his style... Roy crouched down, helping Maha pull out weeds on the side of the gravestone. "Did Grandfather and Father know?"
"No."
Roy was silent.
Maha stood up, rubbing his waist. He looked at the grey mist, thick with loneliness and sadness. After a long time, he said, "I thought you should come and see."
"Because I walked the same path as Great-Great-Grandfather, right?" Roy stood up as well.
Maha didn't answer.
The boy gazed at the countless gravestones. He caught a dry leaf falling on the wind, lost in thought. "So, were all these people killed because they followed Great-Great-Grandfather?"
"No."
"They were martyred."
"?!"
Millions of martyrs?!
Roy violently whipped his head around. Maha's gaze was profound. "The victor takes all. The successful seize everything from the failed."
The old man's tone grew heavy as he looked at the boy. "The path of 'Faith' has no turning back. Even if you or your believers wanted to switch sides halfway, the opponent wouldn't believe you. So..."
Maha said calmly, "The easiest way is—kill!"
"They... and... he... she... it... during the Battle of Frostfall Valley, they chose to self-destruct. Sacrificing their lives to preserve..."
"This spark of mine."
One person attains Dao, chickens and dogs ascend to heaven; one person fails, the entire nation... is martyred...
An extreme, deep grey-black color of profound anguish seeped from Maha's head.
Roy opened his mouth, speechless with grief.
He couldn't imagine the magnificent scene of millions of people choosing martyrdom. He just stared dumbly at Maha... Suddenly realizing why the old man, despite his age, loved watching cartoons—perhaps... only that sliver of childhood joy could slightly relieve the intense pain and guilt buried deep within him.
These negative emotions were constantly tormenting him, relentlessly reminding him that millions died because of him... Roy even thought that if it were him, he probably... would have gone mad!
And this... was the cost!
Whoosh~ A gust of wind blew, making the grey mist writhe...
Roy was unable to recover for a long time, his throat dry. After a moment of silence, he regained his focus and tentatively suggested, "Great-Great-Grandfather, perhaps I can help you."
The sun's light can dispel darkness... Using the properties of the [Sun], perhaps he could help relieve some of Maha's pain.
But the old man refused outright. "This is what I deserve."
He said, "I called you here just to ask you one thing."
Maha looked straight into Roy's eyes. "Are you sure you still want to walk this path?"
"Didn't Great-Great-Grandfather say, once you start, there's no turning back?"
"No, there is." Maha sharply interrupted Roy. "You're just starting. If you swear a 'Vow and Limitation' now, declaring you abandon 'Faith'..."
"What's the cost?" the boy suddenly asked. "What is the cost?"
Maha remained silent... Roy looked out at the boundless graveyard. In that silence, he understood everything.
He said, "Great-Great-Grandfather, you know I'm petty. I can't bear to see others die because of me... If I have to choose between prolonged suffering and short, sharp pain, if the cost is the lives of my followers, I choose prolonged suffering. At least... the pain will come later."
"You plan to follow my path to darkness?" Maha frowned.
The boy smiled freely, two suns fwoosh igniting in his bright pupils. "No, Great-Great-Grandfather... I am the Sun..."
Roy winked at Maha. "Where the sun is, how can there be a 'dark' path?"
"If it comes down to failure in the end..." the boy's face turned solemn. "I will self-destruct!"
He spoke resolutely, without hesitation. "I'll take everyone down with me!"
Maha froze... The boy's dark hair flowed, his expression composed, just like Maha himself when he first entered the Dark Continent, claiming "Thunder" and full of high spirits. Recalling the past... those years of glory, now looking back, brought only sighs...
His expression was melancholy. He waved his hand. "Understood. Get out."
"Yes." Roy stepped back, bowed deeply to the vast graveyard, nodded slightly to Maha, and turned towards the exit. Just before leaving, he paused, remembered something, and turned back. "Great-Great-Grandfather, from now on, I won't use the Zoldyck name in my dealings."
Maha raised an eyebrow. The boy said frankly, "I don't want people to say I'm strong because I'm a Zoldyck. I want them to recognize me as myself."
Maha paused, bent down, took off his shoe, and threw it. He laughed and cursed, "If you're so capable, then force the Zoldycks to live in your shadow!"
"Heh heh... Exactly!" Roy dodged the shoe, strode away, and tossed one last phrase behind him. "Great-Great-Grandfather, you just watch."
In an instant, he left the dream, vanishing from Maha's sight.
Sizzle~ The flames on the lightning-struck willow tree burned quietly.
Beneath the tree, before the countless gravestones, the withered old man picked up his shoe, put it back on, and silently watched the boy's not-so-tall figure leave. He stared for a long, long time. He placed his right hand on his left shoulder, covering a fair, soft hand that had materialized there. He said gently, "Betty, you saw it, didn't you?"
A soft laugh sounded behind Maha. Then, a pair of arms circled his waist. If Roy hadn't left, he would have instantly recognized the woman as the gentle lady in the photograph on the gravestone...
Betty Zoldyck rested her smooth chin on Maha's shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his. "That child is just like you, Maha... a stubborn mule."
"Betty is always a good judge of character. Maha, that child is truly your descendant!"
"Big Brother Brooke seems to like him very much. Master, what is the little master's name?"
"I bet it's Zoldyck, ha ha ha ha ha..."
Gravestones crumbled... graves opened... figures climbed out... swarming... surrounding Maha...
The old man, standing before the countless army, narrowed his eyes into a slit, smiling. "Roy... he is my great-grandson... Roy Zoldyck!"
Whoosh~ A wind swept by, stirring up a commotion... Exiting Maha's dream domain, Roy stood with his back to the path, gazing at the azure "Sea of Cognition." All the gates stood waiting silently for his attention...
The boy didn't delay. He reached out, pushed open the Demon Slayer gate, and entered the Demon Slayer world.
Meanwhile, in the Hunter World.
Taiichi, along with Kastro, traveled hard. After transferring in Yorknew City, they boarded a taxi the next afternoon and reached the outskirts of Meteor City.
The taxi driver was clearly experienced. When Kastro mentioned Meteor City, he remained silent and asked no questions, pretending not to see Roy (Taiichi) and Kastro. He took the money, dropped them off, slammed the accelerator, and sped away faster than a rabbit, proving the adage right...
"What good cat would rummage through a trash can?"
Anyone specifically asking to go to Meteor City... likely had impure intentions—if not a trafficker, close enough.
Roy (Taiichi) easily captured the driver's thoughts through En. He maintained his gentle smile and thanked the man politely. Then he looked up... at Meteor City, surrounded by tall, seemingly endless electric fences...
This land, abandoned by the world as trash, was precisely because of its brutality that it served as a "breeding ground" for elite Nen users like Chrollo, Uvogin, Nobunaga, Feitan, and the other Spiders, including the "Toilet God of War" Hisoka.
"We never reject anything, and no one can take anything from us..."
The Spiders' whisper seemed to linger in the air.
Roy (Taiichi) saw two black-suited men, heavily armed, guarding a barbed wire gate, squinting suspiciously in their direction...
The boy said gently to Kastro, "Let's go."
With his short white hair looking sharp, Kastro followed Roy (Taiichi) closely, mimicking Gotoh's style, staying half a step behind. He had specifically studied this posture: it neither seemed presumptuous nor angered the master, and allowed him to shield the Young Master in time should danger arise... It was quite deliberate!
Tap... tap...
Master and servant walked slowly through the mountain of accumulated garbage, approaching the wire gate without haste.
The two guards exchanged a look. Their hands went into their inner jacket pockets, resting on their left abdomen. One shouted sharply, "Stop!"
They blocked Roy's path.
"Who are you?"
"Do you have a permit?"
Meteor City wasn't entirely lawless; it was only "unclaimed" to major nations like the V5. Because the land was poor and dangerous, they ignored it. But... for the mafia, traffickers, drug dealers, criminals, and all manner of nefarious organizations, this place was "Paradise"!
So, the power structure in Meteor City was complicated. Many sectors were nominally managed by the "Elder Council." But who backed the Council... Roy (Taiichi) wasn't interested. He answered truthfully, "No."
The two black-suited men's expressions hardened. "What is your purpose? You must know that much!"
Trafficking, drug dealing... it had to be one of them... Kastro leaned forward slightly, moving closer to Roy (Taiichi).
The boy, wearing a robe, holding scriptures, with a sun pendant on his chest, radiating a slight divinity, smiled. "Renting property. Giving charity."
"?!"
The two guards stared at Roy (Taiichi), looking him up and down. They looked as if they had seen a ghost!
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