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Hunter x Hunter: The Sun Breathing Zoldyck - 117
🕑 Added 2025-11-19 16:03:11 +0000 UTCChapter 117: Netero’s Vision × Giyu Tomioka’s Shock
Power gathered too tightly in one pair of hands always breeds problems.
First, a rigid organization cannot adapt. It fails to respond quickly to a changing world, and crucial information or crises are delayed, distorted, or simply mishandled, leading to bad decisions.
Second, without real oversight, concentrated authority slips easily into corruption and abuse.
Isaac Netero had already seen the cracks. In recent years, he had been mulling over whether to build an entirely new cadre around himself, recruiting the best Hunters in every field to help manage the Hunter Association.
Of course, that had nothing to do with being bored and wanting strong opponents to spar with in his downtime.
The airship’s engines hummed as it cut through the sky toward the exam venue.
At dusk, on the Sea God bound for Dolley Island, the sea mirrored the red of the setting sun. Light rippled over the waves in liquid gold. As always, Rika pushed the service cart up to the bow with dinner for Roy.
She had learned her lesson this time. No chatter, no trying to steal butler duties. She let Gotoh serve Roy without interference. But halfway through, a cold prickle ran down the back of her neck. She frowned and glanced at Gotoh. He was busy peeling shrimp for Roy, not even looking her way. She turned slowly, scanning the deck and finding nothing out of place.
“Am I just imagining things?” she thought.
She never saw the moment she turned back. A section of planking behind her eased up in the shadow, and a nail-studded face slid silently into view, staring straight at her.
A girl. Alive. Who is she?
Illumi gripped the underside of the deck. A thin killing intent seeped from the emptiness of his eyes.
Then Roy’s gaze brushed him. Illumi flinched and dropped back through the boards.
“Young Master?”
“It is nothing.”
Roy withdrew his eyes and took the shrimp Gotoh held out. Without looking up, he said, “I have a task for you.”
“Please say the word, Young Master.”
“Awaken Nen for her.”
“Who?”
A bad feeling pricked at Gotoh. He turned his head toward Roy and saw the boy lift his chin slightly in Rika’s direction. Gotoh’s body locked for a heartbeat.
“Do not overthink it,” Roy added. “If Kataro cannot be the one for it, someone else might.”
A Nen category is innate. Enhancers are Enhancers, Conjurers are Conjurers. Forcing a misfit would ultimately waste Kataro’s gifts.
“Yes.” Gotoh narrowed his eyes at Rika. “I will finish before we dock.”
Rika jolted and swallowed hard.
That night, under the high moon, Gotoh carried out Roy’s order and began explaining Nen to her.
Roy, cane-sword resting across his knees, closed his eyes and slept. He sank into stillness like an old monk, mind empty, listening to the Sea God’s hull echo under the waves’ slap until dreams took him.
He passed once more through the swirling corridor of color and into the familiar Sea of Cognition. As always, he reached out and pushed open the Demon Slayer door.
The now-familiar drop seized his stomach. When he opened his eyes again, he saw an unfamiliar figure working beside Urokodaki in the kitchen and paused before rolling off the bed.
“You are awake. The porridge is nearly done,” Urokodaki said, still facing the stove as fish congee simmered. He sliced dried radish without turning his head.
The man who did turn back with him was a stranger to Roy, but not to this world: that calm, expressionless face belonged to Giyu Tomioka.
“Giyu Tomioka,” he said simply.
“Kamado Eiichiro,” Roy replied just as simply.
A draft slipped between them and toyed with their hair, making both fringes sway.
“Eiichiro, take Giyu to see your senior brother and sisters,” Urokodaki said.
Giyu’s cool eyes flickered. A hand settled on his shoulder. Warmth flowed from that touch along his arm, climbed his neck, and filled his eyes.
He blinked.
The fox-faced boy took off his mask and smiled at him. “Giyu,” Sabito said.
Giyu’s whole body trembled. He closed the distance in two quick steps and pulled Sabito into a tight embrace, burying his face in his senior’s shoulder and drinking in his scent.
For so many years, in every midnight dream, Giyu had seen his senior’s face and smile.
It had been Sabito who comforted him when he wept after his sister’s death.
Sabito, who pushed him forward when he was too tired to train.
Sabito, who spoke up for him whenever Master scolded him.
And Sabito, who had stood in front of him on Mount Fujikasane and died in his stead, was torn apart and devoured by demons.
All these years, Giyu had never stopped regretting. If he had been stronger, maybe Sabito would not have died. Maybe their juniors would not have followed, one by one.
He held Sabito like a man drowning, a thousand words backed up in his chest and stuck. When they finally forced their way out, they came as one hoarse line. “I missed you so much, brother.”
Tears slipped through Sabito’s incorporeal form and hit the floor.
Up on the beam, Shinsuke watched, eyes reddening. He grabbed Fukuda and howled, only to be kicked clean off.
“Go cry over there. I swear you are using my back to wipe your nose.”
“You two,” Makomo muttered, dashing the corners of her eyes with a sleeve and glaring. They almost made her laugh out loud. If Sabito saw this, how embarrassed would he be?
She darted for the kitchen and hid there instead.
Roy stood quietly to the side and watched, just as he had when he sent Minami Hirochi’s soul home. He stayed still and let the turbulence of feeling wash over him, tracing the fine ripples it carved through the air as he deepened his understanding of Nen.
A little while later, master and disciples sat together around the kotatsu.
Just as at New Year, Urokodaki brought out bowls and chopsticks from the cupboard and laid them around the table.
This time, it was not just Sabito, Makomo, Shinsuke, and Fukuda. A new place had been added.
For Giyu.
“Master, this is the first time everyone has been together in so many years,” Makomo said, seated beside Urokodaki with a smile that filled her face.
Sabito and Giyu glanced at each other. Then Urokodaki’s sigh brushed the low ceiling.
Ever since the day he “took” a strike from Roy and took off the tengu mask, the old Water Hashira had wondered if he would, in this life, ever get to sit like this with all of them, share a simple meal, and talk of small things. Now—
The thought had become reality.
Urokodaki raised his bowl and tipped it toward Roy. “To Eiichiro.”
Sabito smiled. “To Eiichiro.”
He lifted his bowl too; his hand passed right through it. He only grinned.
Then Makomo. Shinsuke. Fukuda. Watanabe. Shimizu.
Every gaze turned toward Roy. One “To Eiichiro” after another rang clear. Giyu, last of all, lifted his bowl, looked straight at Roy, and said, “Thank you, Eiichiro.”
Roy laughed softly and raised his own bowl. “To all of you.”
He tipped his head back and drank the porridge down in one go.
“Careful, that is hot,” Makomo scolded, rolling her eyes. Only someone built like he was would dare drink like that. Look at Senior Giyu—small sips, one at a time, cautious in a way some people clearly were not.
Sabito set his bowl down and chuckled. “No need to worry. He is the man who can turn a blade red.”
The words had barely fallen when a sharp crack rang out.
Giyu’s bowl slipped from his hand and bounced off the edge of the bed.
The current Water Hashira did not even stop to pick it up. He snapped his head toward Sabito. “Sabito… what did you say?”
He turned to stare at Roy, his expression more serious than ever before.
