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Hunter x Hunter: The Sun Breathing Zoldyck - 102
🕑 Added 2025-11-10 17:06:54 +0000 UTCChapter 102: Roy vs. Kite × The Hunter Exam Approaches
Kite used Zetsu to suppress his aura and shadowed Roy from behind.
His master Ging had once told him, “A good Hunter is naturally liked by animals.”
Only after learning Nen did he understand that this was a talent for blending into nature, and that there was a technical term for the technique: Zetsu.
A top Hunter like Ging, if he wished to hide, could make himself completely undetectable.
Kite had not studied Nen for long. He could not reach that level, but he was not inept either. Keeping his distance and using the surroundings for cover, he felt confident he could tail the two from afar without issue.
Sometimes he hid behind a tree, or a power pole, or a road sign, or a scenic rock. When he saw them head into the depths of the forest, he halted and was just about to withdraw when the boy ahead, leaning on his cane, suddenly stopped. A brutal wave of oppressive force crashed down without warning, catching Kite off guard. His knees buckled, and he almost face-planted.
[Magnetism: Pressure]
Roy turned with his hand on the cane-sword and pressed his palm toward Kite. The boy felt as if a boulder had come down on his skull. His knee joints creaked. He was forced to flare his Nen.
“There is a roulette spinning in my mouth, with numbers from 1 to 9. Depending on the number it lands on, I turn into a weapon.”
“That would be yours truly, Crazy Slots. Roll me some good luck.”
With a pop, a clown in a green pointed cap and red nose, white-gloved hands raised by its cheeks, and a square mouth clamped around a numeral, leapt out. It immediately griped, “Ugh… so heavy!”
“You brat, who have you pissed off this time?”
“What is this freakish force that could flatten a man?”
“Shut it.” Kite opened his aura nodes and raised Ten, bracing against the magnetic force to keep from toppling. One hand was ready to spin at a moment’s notice. He stared at Roy and explained, “I mean no harm.”
The boy drew a deep breath. “I only want to make sure it is safe and see you off the island.”
“That is not seeing us off.” Roy looked at Kite without expression. At his side, Gotoh’s face had turned cold.
They had actually been tailed, and the young master had been the first to notice. The young butler, stung and angry, slipped a coin from his pocket and locked it under his thumb, sighting on Kite.
“Do not dress up stalking as something respectable. I knew your gaze was wrong back at the tavern.”
Sneaking glances were one thing, but to dare follow them out here. Gotoh tilted his head toward Roy for instruction. “Young Master, perhaps we should kill him after all.”
Threads of Nen wrapped the coin. One flick would snap-shot it like a bullet.
The air grew faintly still.
Roy raised a palm to signal Gotoh not to overreact. Then he dropped it sharply, pumping out more aura. Kite felt another boulder slam down. His spine bent, and he hurriedly spun the roulette.
He never expected a sudden pull to strike next. The clown vanished and, in the next instant, was in Roy’s hand. Roy caught it in one palm. His cane-sword was planted before him, resolute as a monolith.
Deprived of his anchor,
Kite’s focus broke. He finally could not hold out and went prone. Crack… crack…
The ground split outward from him like a spiderweb, forming a shallow crater. Unhurried footsteps approached his ears.
Kite, lying in the pit, lifted his head with difficulty. His cap had rolled aside. He was a picture of disarray.
“I do not want to be your enemy. It is only that you are too dangerous.” He repeated himself.
“And what of it?”
Roy stopped before him, picked up his cap, and set it back on his head. He fixed the clown in place with a flow of aura and studied its feel. It was indeed a conjured tool with physical substance.
He looked down at Kite and said quietly, “You have your way of thinking, and I have my way of doing things.”
“Since you chose to tail us, be ready to be discovered. Teaching you a lesson is something even your master Ging could not fault.”
Kite snapped his head up, stunned. “You know Mr. Ging?”
Heaven help him. Kite had never once told anyone about his relationship with Ging. How did this person know?
And that Nen of his—what was it?
Pressure was one thing. What was that pulling force?
A thousand thoughts surged through his mind in an instant. One mention of “Ging” left Kite in a daze.
Roy did not answer. He released the clown and let it urge Kite to spin quickly. With a lift of his right hand, he canceled the pressure, straightened, and turned to leave.
“There is nothing new under the sun. Be glad you are at least a decent man.”
“Let’s go.” Roy seized the cane-sword and strode off without looking back.
Gotoh threw Kite a chilly look. “Count yourself lucky.”
He turned and followed.
A mountain breeze gusted through moments later. Kite dragged himself from the shallow pit and stared in the direction Roy had gone, dazed and silent for a long time.
A mysterious boy. Overwhelming strength.
“Mr. Ging was right. This world is small enough, and large enough.”
“I still need to grow.”
At length, Kite pressed the brim of his cap down, waved away the clown, and left.
January 4. There were three days left until the Hunter Exam began.
After leaving Mito’s tavern, Roy dove into the forest, broke a branch for a rod, found a lakeshore, and started to fish.
He sat cross-legged on a big blue rock with his grandfather Zigg’s notebook on his knees.
He turned to the page on “Hookless Angling,” pinned the footer with a small stone, and beside him, Gotoh gathered firewood and built a fire to grill fish.
“Young Master, do you know that man?”
Master… Ging… Kite’s violent reaction hadn’t escaped Gotoh’s sharp eye.
The young butler sneaked a glance at Roy’s back and felt an odd sensation, as if the young master didn’t need to leave home to know the world’s affairs. It was like the “gods” or “prophets” worshipped by small tribes in distant lands.
“‘Know’ is too strong a word. I only know a few things,” Roy said, offering no more. Meeting Kite here had surprised him at first, but on reflection, it made sense. As Ging’s nominal disciple, it would have been strange if Kite had resisted paying his respects at Ging’s old home before taking the Hunter Exam.
Droplets of aura beaded at the rod tip, hinting at a line forming as they fell. Roy kept tempering the Nen thread, strengthening the texture of his Nen.
One day passed, then another. The small Whale Island grew livelier by the day.
He caught glimpses of familiar silhouettes appearing around town.
A bald man. A snake handler. A man wrapped in bandages. A boy with a bow. A Kurta girl in distinctive ethnic garb.
A blond youth in a suit, slurping noodles at a stall with two bodyguards. And,
a strange man with big nails stuck all over his face, who creaked when he walked and wore a stiff expression.
