Urokodaki's training thods were, as expected, unconventional.
The first step was simple: "Hug a tree."
"Everything in this world breathes," the old master had explained. "Every flower, every blade of grass. The first step to learning a Breathing Style is not to swing a sword, but to understand what 'breathing' truly is. You will start with this birch tree. Only after you understand how a tree breathes will I allow you to hold a blade."
With that, Urokodaki had left Roy at the base of the tree and walked away.
A squirrel peeked down from a branch, watching the strange human curiously. The boy stood there for a mont, then wrapped his arms around the tree trunk.
A few minutes later, he was fast asleep.
Abstract... how does a person beco a tree?
The familiar sensation of falling—
Roy sat up in his soft bed, the image of himself hugging the birch tree still fresh in his mind. Urokodaki had said he needed to beco the tree to feel its life, its breath. But there was a fatal flaw in that training thod, at least for him. He'd beco so imrsed he'd simply passed out.
DING... Four in the morning. Ti for his run.
The boy splashed so water on his face, pulled on his running gear, and headed out into the pre-dawn gloom.
The mountain air was thick and humid, a world away from the crisp, cold forests of his dream. As he ran, he could feel his body was lighter, his strides longer and faster. The "point" he'd received from Hiro Minamino had made a significant difference.
[Shadow Step: Proficient (89 -> 99)]
[Rhythm Echo: Proficient (67 -> 84)]
[Snake Awakens: Novice (83 -> 98)]
The system panel clearly showed the qualitative leap a single point in Physique could make. Even without specific training, his assassin arts were improving through raw stats alone. I need to complete that 'tree hugging' exercise as soon as possible.
Sweat dripped from his hair. He wiped it away, and his fingers brushed against sothing dangling from his ear. He stopped dead in his tracks.
It was light, swaying gently in the breeze. He reached up and touched it.
The sun-patterned earring. The one inherited from Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the one his father, Tanjuro, had given him.
When did this happen? How did I conjure it into reality?
A loud BOOM from the mountain base snapped him out of his reverie. He'd reached the Testing Gate. The small side-door had been kicked open, and three massive, brutish n were swaggering through. Behind them, Zebro was smiling nervously, a key ring dangling from his hand.
"Good morning, Young Master," the gatekeeper said, tipping his hat. The gesture drew the attention of the intruders.
"A Zoldyck kid?"
"Perfect."
"Grab him! He's gotta be worth a fortune!"
They have no idea, Roy thought. Mike's getting a nice breakfast this morning.
A monstrous howl tore through the air. A blur of white fur and teeth descended upon the n. They were gone in an instant, swallowed whole. A mont later, Mike spat out a few shredded pieces of clothing and trotted off.
Zebro began his practiced routine of sweeping the area clean.
Roy watched for a mont, then turned and continued his run up the mountain. The family's reputation always attracted fools and gamblers, n who thought they could make a na for themselves by challenging the Zoldycks. They always ended up as dog food.
As he ran, his mind raced. The earring's appearance could only an one thing. A Conjurer's Hatsu is often born from their deepest, most formative mories and obsessions. Kurapika's chains were forged from his clan's massacre and his burning desire for revenge against the Phantom Troupe. Shizuku's vacuum cleaner, Blinky, was a manifestation of her own forgetfulness.
My physique was enhanced by Minamino's gift... and my father, Tanjuro, entrusted with his family's legacy... my subconscious must have fixated on the earring and conjured it without my knowledge.
He ran past the butlers' villa, past the ancient, silent trees, the family estate looming ahead. He ducked behind a large banyan and tried to reverse the process, to will the earring back into the dream world. A faint shimr of Nen enveloped it, but it remained stubbornly attached to his ear.
It seed that conjuration was a one-way street. This was not good news for his plan to help Tanjuro. The fundantal law of mass-energy equivalence might not apply in the bizarre world of Nen.
He stepped out from behind the tree and continued back to the main house. It was 4:25 AM. Gotoh would be arriving in five minutes. Roy was doing so stretches on a windowsill when a tall, imposing figure rounded the corner.
"Father," Roy said, dropping his leg.
Silva stopped, his gaze sharp and cold. "What day is it?"
"Tuesday."
"When is your test?"
"Next Sunday."
"See that you rember," Silva said, and walked away, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
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