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Hunter x Hunter: The Sun Breathing Zoldyck - 15
🕑 Added 2025-09-30 18:44:12 +0000 UTCChapter 15: On the Morphological Changes of Nen Abilities X Food-Guarding Maha
When people mention the Zoldycks, they think of one thing first. The world's number one assassin family.
Two names always surface: Zeno Zoldyck and Silva Zoldyck. Top-tier experts who are incredibly powerful, cold, and ruthless by nature. They dislike communicating with others and have eyes only for missions and money.
Their reputation speaks for itself—there's no one the Zoldyck family can't kill. If there is, it's only because the money wasn't enough.
But veteran Hunters like Netero know a different truth. The person who built the Zoldyck family's transcendent status wasn't Silva or even Zeno.
It was Maha Zoldyck.
The ancestral figure who single-handedly created the entire dynasty. The family's true pillar and most mysterious existence.
The old man appeared from nowhere, his dry face sagging with loose skin. At first glance, he seemed on death's door—a dried corpse that could pass away at any moment.
Roy stood and bowed without a trace of disrespect. Everything this great-great-grandfather showed on the surface was completely unreliable, just like his age.
If something put him in a bad mood, forget Silva—even Netero might not gain any advantage. His grandfather had once said that throughout the entire continent, "President Netero is the only person who has fought Maha and lived."
That showed just how significant his prowess was.
Maha drifted in like a ghost and sat down lightly. No regard for anyone or anything.
His chopsticks flew like the wind, methodically working through the rice and dishes. Though he seemed slow, his chopsticks moved so fast they created afterimages. Roy couldn't worry about etiquette—he pulled out a chair and sat across from him.
Half of both dishes had already disappeared.
'That speed...' The young man's heart tightened.
He hurriedly grabbed his chopsticks and picked up a piece of eggplant. In another glance, three-quarters of the food was gone.
By the time he managed another mouthful of rice, "clang"—two empty plates sat on the table. Only a few tomato slices lay forlornly on top, and only because the old man couldn't chew them.
"Great-great-grandfather..." Roy's chopsticks froze mid-air.
The old man burped contentedly, pretending not to notice his resentful gaze. He vanished in an instant with wind at his feet.
Faintly, they could hear him lamenting about being old and frail with poor teeth. He was leaving the remaining tomato slices for his good great-grandson to supplement his vitamins.
Roy and Gotoh stared at each other, speechless.
The young butler coughed and chose his words carefully. "Young master, how about... cream mushroom soup again tonight?"
Roy felt his stomach churning and immediately waved his hand. He took Yukigakure back from Gotoh and walked toward his bedroom.
Tonight was a waning moon, matching his current mood—neither good nor bad. Though it was regrettable not to eat his own cooking, his great-great-grandfather's reaction proved something important.
His culinary skills hadn't deteriorated too much. With some practice, he could probably recover them completely.
Handling little ones like Takeo and Shigeru shouldn't be a problem.
With this confidence, Roy left the corridor and pushed open his bedroom door. Just as he was about to place Yukigakure on the sword rack Gotoh had prepared by the window, his gaze swept across the room and focused.
A book he'd never seen before lay quietly on his desk. Its pages fluttered gently in the evening breeze from the window, making soft "rustle" sounds.
Roy frowned. He was absolutely certain this didn't belong to him.
Walking closer and examining it by moonlight, the yellowed pages clearly had some age to them. The title page was so blurred it was barely legible, with only a faint line of small text visible:
"On the Morphological Changes of 'Nen' Abilities."
"Nen abilities... Morphological..." The young man suddenly thought of something.
"Could this be a reference book?"
He quickly left the bedroom and hurried to that small room he passed almost daily. The room was lit with dim light, playing cartoons continuously twenty-four hours a day.
Through the window, he could see a withered old man lying on a rocking chair, fast asleep. He lay on his back, sleeping deeply.
Roy stood by the window quietly watching for a while. He gripped the book tightly and bowed respectfully.
The old man seemed tired or perhaps had been sleeping in one position too long, and one side had gone numb. He simply turned over, showing Roy a small but somewhat hunched back.
Only after Roy left the window did he half-open his eyes. He sighed softly and said to a corner in the darkness, "Come out."
The darkness writhed strangely, then revealed a human figure.
Silver hair and beard, a metal collar around his neck, and a close-fitting robe with eight large characters: "One Kill Per Day, Active Career."
"Grandfather, good evening." Zeno bowed to Maha.
The old man rocked his chair with creaking sounds, too lazy to acknowledge him. Zeno didn't mind—like a daily check-in, he came by every day. He began helping Maha massage his shoulders.
Assassin hands could wield blades and also give massages. In terms of understanding body structure and pressure points, if the Zoldyck family claimed second place, no one would dare claim first.
Naturally, Zeno's technique was unparalleled.
He worked from Maha's neck to spine to hands and feet, saying casually, "Why did Grandfather give away Father's notes so readily? If I'd known one meal could make you so happy, I should have learned to cook back then."
"You?" Maha snorted coldly. "You dare cook, but I wouldn't dare eat it. A bunch of people who only know how to kill, just like your dead father—all arrogant fools with eyes on the top of their heads."
Zeno remained silent. His father Zigg had become a taboo for five generations of the Zoldyck family.
He had accompanied Netero to the Dark Continent, brought back a dragon from there, and repeatedly warned on his deathbed to beware of the "curse." Now the dragon was kept in the back mountain, but the "curse" had yet to show itself.
This was why Zeno had visited Maha's side daily for all these years since his father's death. He feared the old man might contract something terrible and pass away.
Fortunately, though Maha's vitality had somewhat declined over the years, his overall condition remained stable. Today he'd even been in the mood to eat several extra bowls of rice—undoubtedly a good sign.
Zeno said with surprise, "I didn't expect Roy, despite his lack of talent, to have a knack for cooking. I'll have to try it sometime too."
"He's my great-grandson!" Maha suddenly opened his eyes wide, glaring at Zeno. "From now on, only I get to taste it!"
Zeno: "......"
