Electroshock can be tuned by adjusting voltage to control the current through the body.
But Silva's whip has no such "setting."
When he lashes someone, how hard he swings and whether he adds Nen—both are unknowns.
"Whatever makes him happy," Roy said, a little drained.
They're all stubborn. No one bows to anyone. That's the Zoldycks—one house full of hardheads.
Gotoh was never the meddling type; he just did his best to handle Roy's logistics so trivialities wouldn't sap his focus.
Dong… The wooden clock in the corner chimed, warning Roy he had less than an hour until sleep.
Gotoh helped him finish the herbal bath and headed out with the dirty laundry, closing the door—only for Roy to call him back:
"Two things.
"One: book me a few renowned TB specialists…
"Two: find me dossiers on Conjuration-type Nen users—ideally cases where 'reverse-conjuration' was recorded. I want to consult them on a few matters…"
Roy hadn't forgotten Tanjuro's illness. His first thought was:
Use reverse conjuration to deliver real-world medicine into the Demon Slayer world.
He reached for the sun earrings—and caught air.
Right. He hadn't "entered the dream" yet, and he hadn't even developed a method to bring objects from his cognitive world into reality.
"The first is easy," Gotoh said after a moment's thought. "The capital hospital in the Republic of Padokea has a top respiratory department. If we're willing to pay, we can book excellent specialists."
"As for dossiers on Conjurers…"
Gotoh spread his hands helplessly. "Young master, you know I don't have clearance to tap the intel network."
Roy knew the Zoldycks had their own intelligence arm. Not just Gotoh—he, or even Illumi—couldn't move any assets without Silva's authorization, much less collect profiles on Conjuration users.
"Got it," Roy said, not pressing him. He asked Gotoh to shut the door, then let himself fall into the soft bed.
It was nearly two years until Tanjuro's death—neither long nor short. There would be a way. Failing that, Roy had also considered: once he truly mastered Sun Breathing and some basic Nen applications, he'd try the Hunter Exam. With a license, he could access the Association intranet and leverage their reach to find top Conjurers.
Then, answers would come easier.
Swish… The night breeze lifted the curtain, revealing Yubashiri on the rack. Moonlight spilled through clean glass across Roy's face…
Hands folded over his stomach, he closed his eyes in peace.
That familiar drop—
Through the multicolored corridor, into his ocean of cognition once more.
Barefoot, he stepped into the surf, letting the waves wet his trousers. He stared into the distance, emptied his mind, and after a minute pushed open the Demon Slayer door.
"Nii-san~"
The north wind howled…
Tanjiro, who'd just run outside the shrine to pee, shuffled in shivering under a blanket. Passing the fire, he gave Roy a gentle shove.
Where Roy could sleep till dawn, Tanjiro wore twin dark circles and stared in admiration. After all that last night, he hadn't expected Nii-san to sleep like a rock… Maybe his big brother was just born with a big heart.
"There's a cloth pouch under the hoe. Take out a few dumplings and toast them."
While the coals still glowed, Roy went out, scooped snow to wash his face, then came back and pulled out the canteen from his coat, popping the stopper.
Tanjiro slid right over uninvited, toasting dumplings and sitting close to Roy—for the chance to "bum some aura."
Curiosity kills cats—this foolish otōto didn't grasp that. Roy ignored him, opened more nodes, and poured extra Nen into the canteen.
White smoke curled up; Minamino Hirotomo rose half out of the pot and bowed to Roy.
Seeing the lower half of the man's body trailing into smoke within the canteen, Tanjiro crept closer, fascinated. "Uncle, are you okay?"
He got a chop to the head for his trouble and slunk off rubbing his crown.
"My kid brother's a bit rash—sorry about that," Roy said, smiling apologetically to Minamino. "If you've nothing else, let's eat and head out."
Minamino smiled at Tanjiro—the boy's aggrieved look reminded him of his precious daughter, only older, and perhaps just as fond of pouting. He shook his head. "I wouldn't dare trouble Rōichirō-sama. There is a small matter, if you're interested."
He explained:
"When the demon chased me, it flung my basket aside. If it's not too much trouble, could you look for it? It has the gifts I bought for my family, and some money. The silver is all yours, to repay you for vengeance and guiding me to my kin…"
"That's easy," Roy said, shooting Tanjiro a look. "You heard him. When we go down the mountain, use your nose."
"Okay," Tanjiro said, and after they ate a few dumplings, they shouldered the basket and left the shrine. Under a pine they found Minamino's pack: bolts of cloth, a bamboo hobbyhorse, papers; nearby, a few treats half-buried in snow, only little corners peeking out.
"They're mine—the cloth to make clothes for my wife and mother; the hobbyhorse and snacks for my daughter; my name on the documents. As for the silver—please, Rōichirō-sama, take it."
Roy dug a copper coin from the snow and slipped it into his coat, wrapped the rest for Tanjiro to repack, and set it back in Minamino's basket.
Minamino froze, mouth opening to speak.
Roy simply hefted the basket and headed toward Mt. Sagiri without looking back.
"In these times, a man is the beam that holds the house.
"You're gone, but your family still has to eat.
"Leave them more silver—it'll help them get by."
"Yeah, uncle—more money for your daughter's sweets," Tanjiro chimed, leaning in with a grin as he followed.
Minamino heaved a long sigh and bowed to the ground. He didn't know whether he was fortunate or unlucky—only that his chest felt warm, and the world dearer than ever.
Until—
they reached the mountain's foot and, in the distance, saw a village. A child's familiar voice carried on the air, making that feeling sharper still—
"Mom, when is Papa coming home?"