Sanghir couldn't accept it.
At first, he'd looked down on Kaizen, dismissing him as just another kid—not much of a challenge.
A nine-year-old boy? Please.
I'm a martial arts master.
But after their fight, Sanghir knew how wrong he'd been. Very, very wrong.
Kaizen wasn't weak—not in the slightest.
It wasn't just that the boy's physical abilities were outstanding. His combat skills were also shockingly refined. The precision, the instinct—he fought like someone far beyond his years.
And then there was the Silent Gaits.
Sanghir had never seen anything like that.
"This... this must be one of the Zoldyck family's hidden techniques," Sanghir thought grimly, a chill running down his spine.
The more they fought, the clearer it became: Kaizen wasn't just strong—he was brilliant. The kid absorbed experience like a sponge, adapting on the fly.
Every technique Sanghir used was mirrored back at him, refined and improved in real-time.
This frightened him.
If he's learning from me this quickly... What happens when I've got nothing left to teach?
In that moment, Sanghir realized: If he didn't crush Kaizen now, he'd never get another chance. The boy's growth was too fast, too dangerous.
"Hey, brat! Are you chickening out?" he taunted, desperate to rattle Kaizen.
Two options flickered through Sanghir' mind:
The first—attack Kaizen again, even if it meant getting past the Zoldyck butlers.
But he quickly dismissed the thought. Pushing past the butlers? That was suicide.
Kidnapping the boy? Also impossible.
His only choice was the second option: beat Kaizen in a straight fight, fair and square. It was his only path to survival.
Kaizen glanced at him briefly, then shook his head, uninterested in the bait. Without a word, he turned and disappeared into his room.
Sanghir clenched his fists in frustration. Damn kid...
The Next Day
Kaizen appeared again, as calm as ever.
"Let's begin," he said simply.
The butler gave a polite nod and stepped aside, leaving the two fighters alone.
Sanghir lunged forward with everything he had, holding nothing back. He knew this could be his last chance to win—and his last chance to leave the Zoldyck estate alive.
From the outset, Sanghir pressed Kaizen hard, forcing him into an early disadvantage. Sweat trickled down Kaizen's brow as he dodged and parried, struggling to keep up with the relentless onslaught.
But something gnawed at the back of Sanghir' mind: Kaizen still hadn't used the Silent Gaits from the day before.
He's holding back. But why?
Gradually, Kaizen's disadvantage began to shrink. Bit by bit, he adapted to Sanghir' attacks, slipping into the rhythm of the fight.
And then... the tide shifted.
Kaizen's movements became sharper, more fluid. He wasn't just holding his ground—he was turning the tables. The gap between them closed, and before long, it was Kaizen who had the upper hand.
Sanghir felt panic creep in.
How is this even possible?
He had known the boy was talented, but this... This was beyond anything he'd imagined. Kaizen's ability to adapt—his speed of progress—it was unlike anything Sanghir had ever encountered.
"This... this isn't normal," Sanghir whispered under his breath. "Is this what it means to be a Zoldyck?"
The butler watching nearby remained composed, though a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
Within the Zoldyck family, many believed that Killua was destined to be the strongest of the next generation. Killua had always shown promise, far surpassing his siblings like Illumi, Milluki, and Kalluto.
Even the venerable butler, Zeno's aide, Tsubone, had made it clear: Killua's potential was unrivaled.
But now, seeing Kaizen's growth firsthand, the butler couldn't help but wonder:
Could Kaizen's talent exceed even Killua's?
Not even Illumi had developed this quickly.
A loud crack echoed through the room.
Sanghir went flying, slamming into the far wall with bone-jarring force. He collapsed in a heap, his breath ragged, his body aching.
I... lost.
"I lost to a kid..."
Sanghir lay there, stunned, his eyes wide with disbelief. His body throbbed, but it was the blow to his pride that hurt the most.
The butler approached Kaizen with a quiet, measured step.
"Master Kaizen, shall I inform Lord Zeno to arrange a new training partner for you?"
Kaizen glanced down at Sanghir, who lay crumpled on the ground, too broken to move.
"No need," Kaizen replied calmly. "He'll do for now."
"As you wish."
The butler gave a small bow, and the matter was settled.
Sanghir lay there, defeated—not just in body, but in spirit.
Kaizen turned and walked away, as if the battle had meant nothing.
And maybe, to him, it hadn't.
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