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Hunter x Hunter: The Sun Breathing Zoldyck - 103
🕑 Added 2025-11-10 17:07:39 +0000 UTCChapter 103: The Zoldyck View on Family × The Shuttle Ship Arrives
“Was the message sent?”
“It was sent.”
After receiving a call from Luke instructing him to have Young Master Roy look after Young Master Illumi, Luke went straight to the second floor of the old mansion to report to Silva.
In the bedroom, Kikyo lounged lazily on the sofa, flipping through a magazine, while a junior butler served her fruit.
Her belly grew by the day. Pressing her ear to it, one could almost hear a strong, steady heartbeat.
In quiet moments, she would cradle her stomach and dote on Silva, confidently insisting, “This one will definitely have silver hair.”
Every time, Silva would listen in silence, mind drifting to the stubborn boy who had once glared at him and declared he would bring him down.
The old man always said that pride in a child was a good thing; keep him cooped up at home, and he would turn useless sooner or later.
Silva understood and agreed, but after several days with no Roy and no Illumi, spending his days alone in the empty training hall, he felt a strange hollowness and boredom—something he had never experienced before.
As a result, he had put Zigg through such brutal training over the past few days that the man still lay prone in his room, unable to get out of bed. Now, at the mere mention of training, he played dead and foamed at the mouth.
At nine in the morning, the sun rose and cast a shaft of light through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto Silva.
He skipped the training hall today and stayed with Kikyo in the bedroom to rest, sipping red wine as he listened to Luke’s report.
“What did he say?” The man stood before the window like a wall.
Luke bowed slightly and answered honestly, “The young master said nothing.”
“He is unwilling?”
Luke lowered his head, not daring to make a sound.
Silva drained his glass, pondered for a moment, and said, “Prepare the car. Book tickets.”
He shoved the glass into Luke’s arms, pushed open the door, and left.
Down the stairs, around the corner, through the corridor—then he stopped. He looked ahead. Outside a dim little room, a rocking chair had been dragged into the hall. A gaunt old man sat quietly sunning himself.
It was cold. Daylight was short. Sunlight should be cherished when it appears.
“Great-Grandfather.” Silva narrowed his eyes and bowed in greeting.
Mahha lay dozing, a blanket over him. “Where are you going?” he asked lazily.
“To the Saherta Republic.”
“What for?”
“To see the children.”
“Which ones?”
“Both.”
“Too late…” The old man opened his eyes slowly. “Your father left early this morning.”
At the mention of Zeno, Mahha grew irritated. That bastard had been kicked once and then ran off to the Hunter Association. He threw Silva a glare for good measure. “All he does is run around. Since he’s there, you stay home and keep your wife company. When she has a daughter, bring her for this old man to hold.”
“Yes.” Silva straightened and left without another word. With his back to the sun, he faintly heard a sigh: “Roy is stubborn, but he knows what matters.”
“Even if you did not remind him, he would look after Illumi. After all…”
“This child is ours to scold behind closed doors—but outsiders must not lay a finger on him.”
A chill wind blew, stirring silver hair. Silva listened in silence and lifted his gaze to the window. The sunlight was just right, and the sun had climbed halfway up the sky. After a pause, he said, “Understood.”
He retraced his steps to the bedroom, heart settling.
January 4
Fishing. Nen condensed into droplets, but could not form a line. [Nen “Form Transformation” +10. Current progress: 21/100 → 31/100]
January 5
Fishing. Nen condensed into droplets and successfully drew into a line, but it was not long enough. [Nen “Form Transformation” +20. Current progress: 31/100 → 51/100]
January 6
Fishing. Nen formed a line and extended to the water’s surface, snapping several times in the middle. Strength still lacking. [Nen “Form Transformation” +25. Current progress: 51/100 → 76/100]
January 7. The Hunter Exam opened with a blaring ship horn.
The shuttle ship bound for Dolley Island—the official exam site—arrived at Dory Port. Gangways were lowered, and candidates boarded in turn.
The bald ninja, the bandaged man, the snake handler, the boy with a bow, and the Kurta girl in traditional attire joined the flow up to the deck, discreetly keeping their distance from a few behind them.
A certain freak. And Pariston, the one who had flattened Donovan into paste at the airport. The paths were clearly divided as they headed for the gangway.
Creak… creak…
The large nails stuck in the freak’s face clicked and groaned. His expression was stiff, inhuman. He drew Pariston’s attention.
The blond youth halted with Clark and Goh at his sides and let the man board first. Pariston’s eyes followed the man’s back with interest. “Friend, what is your name?”
The freak said nothing. Purple hair shaved into a mohawk, whites of his eyes showing upward—uncanny.
He ignored Pariston entirely. The moment his front foot touched the deck, he began sweeping the crowd with dead-fish eyes. After a while, failing to spot the figure he longed for, he sagged in disappointment, stood there stunned for a moment, then walked to the mast and sat cross-legged.
“Putting on airs!”
“Little Hill, want me to twist his head off?”
Clark could not stand seeing Pariston being brushed off. Roy Zoldyck was one thing. But who did this freak think he was?
“Hehehe… no need.” Pariston half-lidded his eyes at Illumi, the corner of his mouth lifting. He inhaled with relish. Instinct said things were about to get interesting. Besides the freak, the boy in the blue cap leaning on the rail looked like a fine toy as well. Of course…
They were nothing compared to Roy Zoldyck.
Pariston smoothed his mood and stepped aboard after the freak, immediately scanning as the other had. The smile at the corner of his lips leveled out and vanished.
“He seems not to be here?” Goh touched the cross at his chest and glanced around, oddly relieved.
Indeed.
Pariston searched again, unwilling, growing uglier by the second.
“There is still time. We will wait,” he told himself and found a corner. With the blue sea at his back, he stared into the horizon to vent his frustration.
Far off, the forest was lush, flocks of seabirds skimming the sky. Deeper inland, by the lake…
Roy fished on, lost to time.
Visible to the naked eye, the branch serving as a rod ended in a Nen thread that burrowed into the water, extending freely as it chased a shadow below.
A behemoth—five meters by sight.
Gotoh watched, tense. He wanted to remind the young master that time was short, but feared interrupting his training. He clenched his hands and paced anxiously.
It did not take long.
January 7. The Nen thread moved through the water with ease. At a certain moment, Roy’s eyes sharpened. “Come up.”
The line, driven deep, whistled through the shadow. With a hard yank from the young master—splashing water everywhere—
A massive catfish broke the surface and was dragged ashore by brute force.
[Notice: Nen Form Transformation +30]
[Current progress 1v1: 76/100 → 1v2: 6/1000]
