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Hunter x Hunter: The Sun Breathing Zoldyck - 111
🕑 Added 2025-11-12 15:21:32 +0000 UTCChapter 111: Rika “Forced” to Join × Roy Trains Under the Falls
How did he know?
Rika’s gaze locked hard onto Roy.
The boy fished in silence without turning back, yet he could clearly feel just how shocked the stare boring into his back was.
Kurta tribe. Scarlet Eyes, one of the Seven Most Beautiful Colors. Kurapika. Kakin’s Fourth Prince Tserriednich. Images surfaced unbidden through his mind.
“There’s no need to be that surprised,” Roy said mildly. “There is no place the sunlight cannot touch. Naturally, there is no such thing as a real secret.”
“It’s night. There is no sun,” Rika said, pushing up the glasses on her nose, her tone severe. “I don’t know how you found out, but please don’t let this spread.”
How rare the Scarlet Eyes were in this world… why the Kurta clan chose seclusion—no one understood the risks and reasons better than Rika herself.
But there are no walls that never leak wind. As Roy said, the moment something exists, it can be found, and once found, it will be collected. The Kurta clan’s future extermination, leaving only Kurapika as the last scion, was the proof etched in fate.
“Where did you get the gall to demand anything from the young master?” Gotoh glared at Rika, grabbed her by the collar, and lifted her clean off the deck.
The girl dug her fingers into Gotoh’s hand and did not struggle. Her eyes swept sideways and went red in a heartbeat. Gone was the softness of someone begging. In its place stood a fierce resolve. She stared at Gotoh without fear. “Question me if you want. You can strangle me if you want.”
“You can even gouge out my eyes, and I will not object.”
“As long as nothing about my people is leaked… do as you wish with me.”
Rika?
“Put her down,” Roy said, a flash of a blond boy with red eyes and towering intellect crossing his mind. His voice was calm. “I have no interest in your clan. I have no interest in your eyes.”
Even if the Scarlet Eyes could bring out one hundred percent across all Nen categories, they were of little use to Roy now.
He could hardly dig out his own eyes and install them.
“Yes.” Gotoh set Rika back on her feet.
She smoothed the wrinkles from her collar and met Roy’s gaze. “How am I supposed to trust you?”
“Believe it or not,” Roy said.
Rika narrowed her eyes. “I’m going with you.”
Gotoh: “?”
“I know the Zoldyck family—the world’s foremost family of assassins,” the girl said righteously. “It’s described in ‘Those Years I Worked as a Hitman.’ I can also apply as a butler, join the Zoldycks.”
“Only when I become one of your own can I be sure the secret won’t leak,” she added silently in her heart.
Her thinking was crisp. She had entered the exam to earn a Hunter License and cling to the Hunter Association’s leg. That would, in turn, give the Kurta clan some leverage.
Now Rika stared at Roy, stubbornly. She had seen every second of his performance earlier. This was another leg beyond sturdy—and it did not conflict with the Association at all.
“Gotoh.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Find that author and beat him to a pulp.”
“Best rip his tongue out for spouting nonsense,” Roy said without turning.
“Yes.”
Rika: “…”
She swallowed and had no idea how to follow that.
Gotoh shot her a glare and left her be.
Roy said no more. In moments—[Notice: Nen “Form Transformation” +15]—he settled back into fishing, patiently tempering his Nen as night came on.
Night. The moon climbed to the middle of the sky.
The killing on the Sea God continued. Only Roy’s corner remained quiet and still.
No one dared approach the bow. No one dared so much as think of laying a hand on Rika again. They simply took her for part of Roy’s group. It proved a windfall for her—masked by the tiger’s shadow, she sniffed out an unlucky mark, stole his number tag, and piled up points.
Roy and Gotoh turned a blind eye, and Rika knew to be tactful. She clocked in early to play the butler, pushing a service cart to bring the two of them dinner.
Eat when it’s time to eat, kill when it’s time to kill. The Hunter Association had never been stingy about feeding candidates.
Dinner, sourced on-site, is filled with seafood. Gotoh cracked a brown crab for Roy, while Rika rested her chin in her hand and watched. “Aren’t you afraid I put poison in it?” she asked.
Gotoh sneered. Roy ate faster, happier. The notion that a Zoldyck would die of poison was a joke so big that the author of “Those Years I Worked as a Hitman” hadn’t even dared pen it.
Soon enough, under Rika’s smiling eyes, Roy dropped a pile of shells and turned back to the bow to sit cross-legged.
He had not practiced with the blade for several days. He had found that as long as he did not open the Demon Slayer door, nothing would happen that night. He would sleep and wake normally, entirely on his own terms. It gave him more freedom going to and from the Sea of Cognition.
And after his battle with Pariston, no one dared test his brow again. By Captain Mark Seam’s account, they were still five or six days from Dolley Island.
Roy told Gotoh to wake him if anything came up. Then he closed his eyes, settled in, and let himself sleep, ready to fulfill the promise to Master Sakonji Urokodaki—
Set out to learn a Breathing Style.
Drowsiness rose. The sounds of killing in his ears grew faint. Roy’s head dipped, and he slid into sleep, passing through the rainbow corridor of dreams to the familiar Sea of Cognition by way of deep sleep.
This time, he paused not at all. He pushed open the Demon Slayer door and stepped through.
The familiar plummet took him.
When he blinked awake, he caught the scent of porridge.
Roy smiled faintly, rolled from the heated bed to sit up, spread his arms, and stretched in a long, lazy arc, then planted his feet solidly on the floor.
The sea was not like land. It did not pitch. Solid ground underfoot was its own kind of peace.
“Eiichiro, Master made something tasty for you again,” Makomo said. She had always regretted that she could not taste Sakonji Urokodaki’s cooking herself, so she made Roy share his post-meal impressions to sate her little cravings.
“What is it?”
“Fresh fish porridge,” the girl said, envy in her voice. “Master went down to the river at four to catch fish for you. I guess he wanted you to feel the rhythm of Water ahead of learning a Breathing Style today.”
“Don’t listen to her ramble,” Sabito said, rolling his eyes at Makomo. “Eating fish has nothing to do with Water Breathing. Eiichiro, brace yourself.”
There was more than one meaning in his tone.
Roy listened in silence, and a scene of Tanjiro training beneath a waterfall surfaced in his mind. Unless he was wrong—
He would be doing the same today.
Sure enough, Sakonji Urokodaki spared the Tanjiro of tomorrow no mercy, and spared Roy none either. Worse, he did not wait a day. He had Roy strip to the waist and stand under the falls on the spot to mimic his movements and begin Water Breathing drills.
“Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash.”
“Second Form: Water Wheel. Third Form: Flowing Dance. Fourth Form: Striking Tide.”
“No. Raise the blade a little higher. Breathe from the belly—this isn’t mouth breathing. Fix your power chain: drive the arms from the core. Stop using brute force. And the rhythm—where is it? It must be steady, it must be soft, it must flow like water.”
“That stiff act is for who? You’ll be a demon’s dinner at this rate.”
Sakonji Urokodaki’s instruction came mixed with the pounding of the waterfall, knocking again and again at this uncut gem.
Sabito and Makomo watched from the side. They had never heard him say so much at once. They glanced at each other, mute.
Inwardly: Master isn’t treating Eiichiro like a person at all.
And yet… Eiichiro said not a word and learned with focus. Slowly, his form began to take shape. The speed of his progress was hard to believe.
“Water Breathing, Seventh Form: Drop Ripple Thrust.”
Half a day later, Roy lunged.
A chill point arrived first. Ripples of water spread and rolled forward, carrying the falls along.
A razor column of water sheared the air and took form in a blink. It skimmed past Sabito and Makomo’s ears and stabbed a cypress on the bank. The tree was thick enough that two people could not link hands around it—yet Roy’s strike bored a hole clean through its heartwood.
[Notice: Water Breathing activated. EXP +10]
