The training ground was surrounded by woods. I plunged into that endless green, and from the first step, I was irrecoverable, fleeing at full speed.
Why run?
Jeno was right; I was the one unprepared. When Silva appeared without warning, my inherently weak self panicked and instinctively chose to flee.
I assumed Silva’s appearance was targeted at Illumi, but I happened to be there too, which led to our encounter.
I didn't respond to Silva’s words and fled abruptly. While he wouldn't consider me an enemy because of it, my actions were suspicious enough, evidenced by his decision to pursue.
A chase initiated by the first boss of the Zoldyck dungeon. How thrilling.
No, I just didn’t continue the conversation; he didn’t need to do this.
In the Meteor City dungeon, I had escaped with Illumi multiple times when encountering strong enemies, but never had I felt such intense pressure, like a tightening rope around my throat, causing me to hyperventilate and my heart to pound.
Loosening my collar to regulate my breathing, I dared not look back. I remembered there was a steep downhill ahead; if I jumped, I could temporarily disappear from his sight.
The moment I jumped, I glanced back. Silva was actually quite far away; I could only see his general silhouette. He wasn’t even running but walking.
Oh, good. He didn’t have much desire to chase, otherwise, how could I possibly slip away from under his nose? Did he really think the Zoldyck dungeon’s first boss was a weakling who couldn't even keep an eye on a child?
Where to run?
It wasn’t a lack of options, but too many.
As everyone knows, the entire Mt. Kukuroo is Zoldyck territory, and its area is considerable.
I’ll stop running and go back to the main house. I haven't done anything wrong; what is there to fear?
Just as I thought this, the sound of rustling grass startled me. I held my breath, hid behind the trunk of a tree at the base of the steep slope, and looked up to see Silva’s figure.
"..." He arrived too quickly, practically with the effect of teleportation.
I remembered in the "real world," when I was in elementary school, I once angered my mother. I couldn't remember the reason, but it seemed I had failed another test, and she wanted to spank me. So I rushed out the door and fled like lightning. She chased for a while but couldn't catch me and retreated grumpily.
At that time, I ran all the way to my grandmother's house and hid behind her, asking her to intercede for me, thus escaping punishment.
My mother, both angry and amused, said I "ran really fast."
Why am I thinking about this? Silva isn't an ordinary person. No matter how fast I run, he's faster. No matter how well I hide, he'll find me. He can catch me as if it were a game; I have no chance of winning.
Then again, does he really need to waste his time chasing me?
I can just take out my phone and call the butler, and he’ll have me brought to Silva.
Just as he must be wondering why I ran, I also don't know why he personally came to chase me.
Silva was wearing his usual training attire, his expression as stern as ever, as if he were always in a state of combat or awaiting combat. He looked like a dull and uninteresting character, except for his slightly curly, long silver hair, which was quite nice to stroke.
Even without the threat to my life, hide-and-seek itself is a heart-pounding game.
The voyeuristic desire of observing from the perspective of the hider.
The thrill of uncertainty about when I might be caught.
In the "real world" as a child, I loved this game. Hiding under the bed was too easy to be found, so I preferred hiding in the closet, using the clothes hung there as cover. I would crouch in the corner, and unless someone carefully looked through the clothes, they wouldn't find me.
Although I followed the Zoldyck teachings and concealed my presence with all my might, I believed it wouldn't be very effective against someone of Silva's caliber. He would find me.
Silva stood at the edge of the steep slope, upwind. The wind in the woods rustled his soft silver hair. Downwind, I tried to discern the wind, but I felt no special aura. If I had looked away, I probably wouldn't have noticed Silva, whose presence blended seamlessly with the environment – the Zoldyck's number one boss, a world-class assassin, his every movement imbued with stillness. How terrifying.
My palms began to sweat lightly. I bit my lip, my gaze fixed on Silva’s feet, as my line of sight might be detected by him.
What is he going to do?
What is he thinking?
Why is he standing there motionlessly?
If he wanted to, he could end this chase in an instant. I was curious about why he wasn't doing so.
I chose to remain perfectly still. From my limited vantage point, I saw that Silva also seemed to be in a state of passive observation. The crushed grass leaves lay quietly by his shoes.
Tender green leaves, trampled during their most vibrant season.
I thought of those he had killed.
Oh, it’s unimportant. Those people merely exist in a different form, in the form of Zeni.
Just as a famous quote from the "real world" goes: money isn't truly spent; it just accompanies you in a different way.
"...Mel? " Silva's voice was quiet, about the same volume as when speaking face-to-face.
I raised my gaze. As he finished the last syllable, he wasn't looking in my direction but straight ahead, as if gazing into the distant future.
The human voices faded, yet he remained motionless, his eyes unblinking, like a heavy, solid marble sculpture.
"..." Is he waiting for me to come out voluntarily?
I remembered dogs that, even when pulled by their leashes until their faces distorted, refused to budge from their spot. For some reason, I felt a similar defiance.
The wind brought the fresh scent of grass sap, the same aroma as freshly mowed lawns in the "real world." I thought it smelled much like newly cut watermelon.
As a child, I loved chilled watermelon in midsummer. It was sweet, a comforting coolness, the scent of happiness.
As I grew up, I could no longer feel that way. I just found watermelon seeds troublesome; I didn't need to eat watermelon.
Bright things slowly faded. Growing up is truly boring.
During my stalemate with Silva, I pondered these trivial matters until Silva moved his right foot and turned backward.
Then his left foot, landing.
He was walking away.
Silently.
Unhurriedly.
Simultaneously, I ran in the opposite direction.
I ran very fast. The speed limit in this world was much higher than in the "real world." I felt like I was a gust of wind; before my feet even fully touched the grass, I had taken my second, then third step.
The grass rustled as if blown by the wind. I ran.
The dappled sunlight filtering through the trees burned into my eyes, a blurry, shifting gold. I ran.
The giant beasts raised by the Zoldyck family did not attack their masters; they stood quietly, their claws and fangs hidden beneath their fur. I ran.
Running in the "real world" was usually for reasons like "being late," "PE class," "sports day," "playing games," or "fear of punishment." I had decent explosive power and participated in 100-meter races, but I reacted a beat late to the starting gun and finished last. In relay races, I was also a beat late, dragging the team down.
I was always a beat slower than others, which led to failure.
...I'm so stupid.
Upon reaching the school gate, I realized I had forgotten my red scarf. Without it, I couldn't enter the school. I ran back home, which was about a thirty-minute walk away, to get it. I ran some parts, walked some, gasping for breath.
I ran back to the main house, my forehead slightly sweaty. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and went back to my room.
Taking off my shoes, I placed them on the shoe rack behind the door. I hugged the faded rabbit stuffed animal on my bed and hid in a corner of the room, among the old belongings that I had tried hard to convince Kikyo not to discard—we were of the same kind.
Toe to toe, knee to knee, chin resting on the rabbit's head. Its long ears brushed against my cheek. I curled up in the narrow darkness, surrounded by ordinary silence, listening to my own breathing, which had become noticeable after running.
My breathing gradually calmed, becoming the faint breaths honed by years of training.
The Zoldyck brand was so vividly etched into this body that I had no complaints. I was willing, even pleased, because this path was the right one given the current circumstances.
No one disturbed me. Kikyo was busy with Milluki's preschool education. Silva was busy with Illumi's assassin training. Zeno was working outside. They all had their own things to do, and they were all very busy.
I didn't feel lonely. In the "real world," I was accustomed to spending time with myself. I ate the meals my mother left for me before she went to work, watching cartoons on television while I ate.
I didn't need a TV guide; I constantly changed channels, and over time, I learned which channels showed cartoons at what times.
During the hours without cartoons, I watched TV dramas. I didn't understand some of the plots back then, but I still found them captivating.
Television was interesting, and books were interesting too. They filled my time. Later, games were added. I relied on them to find happiness, until that happiness gradually faded away.
Life, from its birth, is a march towards extinction, a rush towards death. This is the ultimate meaning of life.
I just ran a little faster.
In the silent darkness, the passage of time became ambiguous, and the boundaries of the world blurred.
["What are you looking forward to?"]
"..."
["What are you waiting for?"]
"..."
I clutched the fabric of my sleeve.
A knock on the door made my movements falter. I suppressed my breathing.
"Miss Mel? " It was the butler's voice.
Without permission, the butler couldn't enter the master's room, yet his voice grew closer. I heard him explain, "I apologize for disturbing you. It is now dinnertime, and Mrs. Kikyo is waiting for you."
"..." I remained silent in the closet.
"Miss Mel? You are in here, aren't you?" the butler said with near certainty. "Madam saw you enter the room and you haven't come out..."
Kikyo's cybernetic eye wasn't just for show; her surveillance capabilities had always been strong.
Did you think bringing out Kikyo would scare me? I remained unfazed, staying quietly in the closet.
Unlike the outcome of my previous standoff with Silva, the butler, to report back to his employer, opened the closet directly with great deference and caution, wasting no time.
Zoldyck butlers are certainly not to be trifled with; ordinary people are not qualified to work here.
"Miss Mel." The butler bent down.
"..." I hugged the stuffed animal tighter.
"...Miss Mel?" The butler lowered his posture further, kneeling down and extending his hand to me, a troubled expression on his face.
I was indeed causing her trouble, and I wanted to see how she would handle it.
That's right, I was being unreasonable, but so what?
According to Zoldyck rules, she is a subordinate, and I am the master. She cannot offend the master.
"Miss Mel, may I ask if this means you 'don't want to go'?" the butler asked tentatively.
"..." I showed no reaction.
"Understood. I apologize for disturbing you. I will report this truthfully to Madam." The butler stood up and bowed deeply to me.
Before she could close the closet door, I reached out and stopped it, then stepped out myself.
If Kikyo were to come, she would definitely pry for details and talk endlessly, which would be troublesome. I didn't want to deal with that.
I was the last to arrive at the dining room. The butler pulled out my chair for me; it was my usual seat, next to Illumi. Kikyo sat opposite me, with Milluki beside her. Silva sat at one end of the dining table, and if Zeno were present, he would sit at the other end.
Maha, however, was quite... well? Free-spirited? This ancestral figure of the Zoldyck family, much like his presumed ET-like appearance, seemed to exist in a state of detachment, rarely participating in family gatherings. I wondered what he did alone.
The European-style long dining table, covered with a pristine white tablecloth, was very long. I felt that this table probably carried expectations of family prosperity. To fill this table, at least twenty people would need to be seated.
As a result, only five people sat there, making it appear vast and empty. Furthermore, one of the Zoldyck dining rules was "no talking during meals," which contributed to the desolate atmosphere. It was less lively than me eating while watching TV in the "real world"; even alone, I was more lively than them.
So be it. At least the food here was delicious. Professional chefs, carefully selected ingredients—ordinary restaurants couldn't compare. Crucially, I didn't have to pay... I would repay them by working for them later.
Therefore, I ate with a clear conscience every day and had a great appetite. Today, I finished all the food on my plate.
After the meal, the current head of the family, Silva, quietly excused himself, signifying that there was nothing to discuss. Everyone was free to do as they pleased. Kikyo was urging the picky Milluki to finish his remaining food, and Illumi was leisurely eating his after-meal fruit. I lightly hopped off my chair and headed straight back to my room.
Unexpectedly, I encountered Silva in the hallway I had to pass through.
He stood with his arms crossed, his back leaning against the wall, appearing to be in a waiting posture.
The well-developed muscles in his arms were particularly pronounced in this pose, exuding a fierce destructive power. Even without having read the original work, I was certain he could flatten my head with a single punch, in the literal sense of the word.
"..." I felt like an obedient student running into a gangster with tattoos blocking the road after school.
"Mel." He lowered his arms, his sharp, vertical pupils precisely locking onto my figure.
It is said that the gaze of a powerful predator can cause its prey to abandon all resistance.
As if my soul had been captured by this piercing gaze, I stood frozen, allowing him to slowly reach out and gently rub my hair.
He was offering solace, and I was showing docility.
"I heard you've been watching Illumi's training a lot these past few days," Silva said, pausing as if in deep thought. "Do you want to train with Illumi?"
"..."