On Mount Puka Puka, at an altitude of over three thousand meters, there was a notorious assassin family that had been in the killing business for generations. As long as the price was right, there was almost no one they couldn't kill, and the family was renowned for this.
The family name was—Zoldyck.
At this moment…
Huh? This beginning, doesn't it feel like I've seen it somewhere before? Is the copyright okay?
Alright, alright, to prevent mental bleeding, let's start again.
It's already xxxx year, and the transmigration/reincarnation genre is no longer fresh, even stale, right?
For example, in the widely acclaimed manga "Hunter x Hunter," the very popular Zoldyck family has been infiltrated by countless travelers from other worlds, some cutting in line, others directly replacing the original owners. Thus, the family's population has never been fixed.
Let's see which kind it is this time?
Oh, here she comes, she's here, she's a line-cutter, and she's even more diligent than the average person, cutting straight to the front of the queue.
Silva, the current head of the Zoldyck family, held their first child, but there was no joy of a new father on his face.
No, it wasn't because of preferring sons over daughters, but because this child... wouldn't cry.
Although the Zoldyck family, due to the special nature of their assassin profession and their long-accumulated "reputation," was almost mythologized by ordinary people into bloodthirsty monsters, the Zoldycks were, in fact, human.
Crying is what a newborn human infant should do, signifying the start of life, even for the Zoldycks, unless…
Contrary to the newborn hope, Silva saw the end of death in this child's eyes.
Are these the signs of premature death?
Perhaps…
Beside him, the doctor was filled with fear and sorrow. Meanwhile, his wife, Kikyo, lying on the bed and also sensing something was amiss, raised her arms to Silva, her expression anxious, yet her voice remarkably calm, "Let me see the child."
Silva bent down, his fluffy silver hair like a lion's mane, cascading from his shoulders onto the bedsheet. His expression was solemn, as if handing over a tombstone.
"No… no." Kikyo cradled the silent infant, her disbelief evident as she shouted in negation, "This can't be happening!!!!!"
This can't be happening.
Can't be happening how?
Oh, how could she… how could she give birth to such a fragile child destined for an early death!
She had been confident, always confident, that a union of the strong would surely produce strong and excellent children with the person she desired.
In the moment her confidence was severely shaken, she was so enraged that she even wanted to kill the child with her own hands. At that point, she lost control and clutched the infant's neck.
A mother is great, for a mother can grant one "life" and also grant one "death."
With complex and conflicting emotions, Silva chose to close his eyes.
However, the cessation of life did not come.
"No, she just… she just…" Kikyo murmured.
Opening his eyes, Silva saw his wife's attitude change drastically as she lovingly pressed her forehead against the infant's.
A mother is great, for a mother will forgive everything, embrace everything.
Even…
"She just can't make a sound," Kikyo whispered, her voice entirely different from her usual fiery demeanor.
This was the first time Silva had ever seen Kikyo so gentle.
Perhaps this was the magic of maternal love.
After a comprehensive examination, the infant's vital signs were so good they were almost perfect. The only flaw was that she lacked vocal cords, hence she could not make a sound.
But she had escaped a disaster. Now that her mother had chosen to keep her, she would love her, even if she were mute.
To put it mildly, apart from the inability to vocalize, her physical condition was excellent, and she was a very beautiful child whom anyone would find adorable.
Perhaps because she had witnessed death from the moment of her birth, the child's eyes were still filled with death, like lifeless glass spheres, eyes of the dead.
Perhaps time could heal.
Perhaps…
Right, she still hadn't been given a name.
Let's call her…
"Mors," Silva looked at his wife and suggested, "Mors, how about this name?"
Silent, born of death.
"Okay, I'll go with your suggestion."