Chapter 48: A Call from Wing x The Divide Between Humans and Ghosts
"The Master knows how to control his strength. Your Aura protected you, so even though you sustained some internal injuries, you'll recover after a few days of rest."
The night was heavy and dark. Gotoh had taken over for Luke, carrying Roy back to his bedroom.
The boy had a bandage wrapped around his forehead and several fresh bloody marks on his back. The young butler knelt by the window, carefully applying medicine to the wounds.
A lamp was already lit on the desk against the wall. Its light mingled with the moonlight, casting a soft halo around the room.
Roy lay on his stomach, staring blankly. He seemed to be admiring the moon, but in reality, his mind was racing, replaying the day's battle.
Without a doubt, there was a massive power gap between him and Silva. It had nothing to do with the application of Nen abilities; Silva hadn't even used Nen in his attacks. He had achieved absolute dominance through sheer, overwhelming 'power' and 'speed' that was impossible to react to.
Ultimately, the difference is in our physical bodies...
His father was in the absolute prime of his life. His body, tempered through countless trials, had already reached a level that was difficult for others to even comprehend.
If I want to even touch him, I'll need to be able to fully open the Testing Gate, at the very least.
Each leaf of the Zoldyck family's Testing Gate weighed two tons. The first gate was four tons, the third was sixteen tons... To open all seven gates completely required an absolute strength of two hundred and fifty-six tons in both arms.
The limit for an ordinary adult male was somewhere between four hundred and eight hundred pounds. Converting that to a Physique value...
In other words, Silva's current stat had to be at least five hundred. Roy wouldn't ask the exact number, and Silva would never tell him. All he knew was that for the next phase... he would first have to grind his Physique up to a baseline of 500.
"Young Master, please bear with it. This may sting a little." The ointment wasn't particularly gentle; it was quite irritating. Very Zoldyck.
The moment Gotoh finished his warning, Roy sucked in a sharp breath, all his plans vanishing from his mind.
Fortunately, enduring pain just makes it hurt more. Roy decided to distract himself, asking Gotoh, "Have you contacted that doctor who lives near the Heavens Arena?"
"I had someone inquire. He's available on Thursday."
"Then book the tickets for Wednesday."
Tanjuro's illness could not be delayed; the sooner he was treated, the better. On the other hand, the question of whether a 'Conjured' object could be 'de-Conjured' was a vexing problem. Roy wondered if, after learning the Four Major Principles, he should get a Hunter License to access the official Hunter website and look it up.
Just as Gotoh finished applying the medicine and began wrapping the bandages, he brought up another matter. "That man, Wing, called again. He's inviting you to watch his match on August 17th."
"He said that he will cover the ticket costs and all travel expenses. As long as you are willing to come, Young Master, nothing is a problem."
"What day of the week is August 17th?"
"Next Saturday." Gotoh pushed up the glasses on his nose and said in a low voice, "That man probably hasn't given up on the idea of fighting you. He's harassing you repeatedly. Perhaps I should..."
"I could kill him."
Gotoh finished his sentence with a throat-slitting gesture.
Roy didn't look down on him, nor did he underestimate him, but he was certain of one thing: if Gotoh dared to make a move, this time next year, Roy would be bringing a bouquet of his favorite violets to his grave.
"There's no need for killing."
"Besides—"
"He's not alone. There's an old monster backing him."
Roy replied casually. The thought of a certain blonde, twin-tailed loli came to mind. If she got angry and powered up, the entire Heavens Arena probably wouldn't be enough for her to tear down.
Furthermore, Roy had every reason to suspect that her stats were also at least five hundred or more.
"Shall I refuse him then?" Gotoh asked tentatively.
Roy pondered for a moment. "Forget it," he said.
"Since he's extending a sincere invitation, I'll go and have a look."
"It's been a year. I'm actually curious to see how much he's grown."
"It's said his opponent is a veteran Transmuter. If you're interested in watching, Young Master, you could certainly learn a few things." The Heavens Arena had already released information about the fight; anyone who was interested could find it online.
Roy gave a noncommittal hum. Once Gotoh had finished with the bandages, he waved a hand, dismissing him and asking him to prepare a file on the match for the next day.
That night, he slept soundly, lying face down on his bed.
After an arduous battle...
Roy drifted off once more. He found himself in a multicolored tunnel, which he passed through to enter the familiar "Sea of Cognition."
He rolled up his pant legs and walked into the water from the soft sand, letting the waves crash against his body as he let out a huge shout: "Aaaah—!"
He emptied his heart of all the disappointment, frustration, dejection, and other negative emotions. Only then did he rub his face and push open the gate to the Demon Slayer world.
He stepped inside.
The familiar sensation of falling washed over him.
Roy awoke again, nestled by the heated table, lying on the bed. His eyes opened to see Makomo, her big, beautiful eyes staring at him with curiosity.
The ghosts had all assumed that after taking a day off and eating the special hot pot Sakonji Urokodaki had prepared, he would have begun his journey home to thrash his father.
They never expected that Roy would do exactly as he said: he spent the entire day resting in the cabin with Sakonji. When he did go out, it was only to hunt some game on Sagiri Mountain, which he gave to Sakonji to cure as provisions for the coming winter.
Only late at night, after the two had blown out the oil lamp and wished each other goodnight, did Roy mention that he was going off to fight. At the time, his master said nothing, and the ghosts were all confused. It was the big-mouthed Shinsuke who, letting his imagination run wild, shouted, "Don't tell me he's going to fight in his dreams!"
This sparked a heated debate among them.
Some complained that they'd been tricked by Eiichiro, that it was all just an excuse to be lazy.
Others suggested that maybe Eiichiro really was dreaming of Tanjuro. Perhaps there was long-standing resentment between father and son, and since Eiichiro was such a filial child, he would never show it in person and could only vent in his dreams.
Shinsuke and Fukuda started bickering again, each sticking to their own theory.
For some reason, only Makomo and Sabito exchanged a look. They believed Roy was telling the truth.
"My intuition tells me that Eiichiro isn't the type to lie," Makomo had said to Sabito with conviction the night before.
So, she hadn't slept a wink, keeping her eyes fixed on Roy to see if he would show any unusual signs. Unfortunately, aside from frowning and tossing and turning a bit more than usual, he was no different from any other night.
Makomo was a little disappointed.
"He's awake! Sabito, quick, ask him! Did he kill his father...?"
Seeing Roy's eyes open, Makomo urged Sabito on. Sabito rolled his eyes in exasperation and pretended not to hear.
There was a divide between humans and ghosts. Since they all knew Roy couldn't hear them speak, why did she want him to ask?
Makomo's curiosity really is getting stronger by the day, Sabito grumbled to himself. Suddenly, he heard Roy speak.
"I lost. And it was a miserable defeat."
In that instant, he, Makomo, and all the other ghosts huddled in the small cabin, including Shinsuke and Fukuda, froze on the spot.