Akuto threw his head back and laughed wildly; the taste of freedom was so intoxicating he felt he didn't deserve it.
It was as if heaven and earth could no longer contain him.
Immense power, a youthful body, and a world utterly alien to him.
"Above the heavens and below the earth, I alone am honored one!"
The corners of Akuto's mouth stretched so wide they nearly reached his ears.
Honestly, someone with a short fuse to begin with—no, even an ordinary person—
An average Joe locked in a sealed world for over a month, unable to talk to anyone, seeing almost nothing—
No phone, no internet, no food, no fun—
Absolutely nothing.
In those conditions, a normal person would lose their mind in half a month.
If you're still not suicidal after a full month, you get this. (thumbs-up)
Of course, later on, Akuto met Miko, and he had to admit the woman brought him quite a bit of amusement.
In the end, though, it came down to a choice between his own freedom and another person's life.
To Akuto, Miko was more like a pretty pet cat: beautiful fur, gentle temperament, occasionally entertaining.
If it behaved, he was happy to keep her—so long as the cat didn't bare its fangs at him.
But now the problem was he had to pick between his freedom and the cat's life.
No need for words.
"Roooar!!!"
"Food… eat…"
At that moment the Cursed Spirit behind him let out a skin-crawling shriek, drool splattering as it loomed over its prey.
Yet it sensed something different about the human and hesitated.
Akuto glanced back; the Cursed Spirit's blown-off right arm had already re-formed.
"Huh? Reverse Cursed Technique?"
"Nah." He lowered his eyelids. "Just shifting energy around."
"Enough." He stretched, turned, and walked deeper into the alley.
"You helped me out; I'm not in the mood to kill you—scram."
Akuto saw through the recovery at a glance.
Think of the Cursed Spirit as the number 100; each body part is a digit that adds up to 100.
He'd smashed its right arm, dropping it to 90.
So it borrowed energy from elsewhere, shaved one point off a perfect ten, and patched the arm back to ten.
Though it looked whole again, its total was still down by ten.
That's nothing like the Reverse Cursed Technique.
With a method like this, you can keep hurting it until it dies.
If bullets could wound it, you could simply grind it to death.
But Cursed Spirits—or people—who truly master Reverse Cursed Technique can't be killed so easily; they restore flesh without lowering the total, creating something from nothing by burning Cursed Energy.
Still, the setup had its points. Compared to the jujutsu world, the top-tier fighters here couldn't compete,
But the low-end combatants were stronger—every Cursed Spirit here could pseudo-regenerate like Reverse Cursed Technique.
Killing them demanded a higher price.
"Boring—time to find some fun."
Akuto turned to leave, and in that instant
The Cursed Spirit behind him roared and swung a fist the size of a car, intent on turning him to pulp.
"Honestly…"
With his back to the Cursed Spirit, the corner of his mouth curled.
"Stupid thing."
Rumble—!
He calmly raised a hand; that slender, pale arm easily caught the full-force blow.
Air burst outward.
Nearby walls exploded.
Miko's pleated skirt flapped and rustled.
"Right, trash that only thinks about food can't really talk, can it?"
"In that case—"
He turned, excitement flashing across his face:
"Let me have some fun!"
The instant the words left his mouth he vanished.
The Cursed Spirit looked around in panic, then glanced up.
Akuto hovered above, fist raised high.
"Here it comes!"
Boom—!
One punch slammed the Cursed Spirit to the ground; cracks spider-webbed for a dozen meters.
Its head exploded, foul liquid spraying everywhere.
He landed lightly beside it, leaned down, and cooed.
"Hey there, are you still with me?"
"Don't tell me you're done already?"
An angelic face, words anything but human.
As if stung by the taunt, the head writhed back into shape, eyes brimming with venom.
"Grrr!"
Grinning, Akuto lifted one foot:
"That's more like it."
"Give me a little more!"
Crunch—!
He stamped again; half the Cursed Spirit's torso burst.
Visibly, the creature shrank.
When it re-formed, it stood only two meters tall, a humanoid monster now.
Excited, Akuto watched it:
"Good, trash."
"Come on, push harder!"
"Try to entertain me!"
The Cursed Spirit shot him a terrified look, turned, and staggered deeper into the alley.
It felt like history repeating itself.
"How dull."
Disappointment flickered across his eyes.
He flashed beside the creature, kicked it five meters into the air, then reached out:
"Since you let me vent, I'll give you a gorgeous funeral."
"Dismantle."
Snap—!
With a bow-string twang, the airborne Cursed Spirit was sliced into a dozen pieces.
The chunks rained down as wisps of black smoke.
He yawned and turned to leave.
Suddenly he felt eyes on him and glanced toward the mouth of the alley.
There stood a spiky-haired boy staring at him.
Terror, confusion, and curiosity swirled in the boy's gaze.
To the kid, the girl had just turned superhuman: a casual leap took her ten meters high, a single punch shattered the ground, and the shockwave stung his skin.
He sensed—though he couldn't see—that she was fighting something.
Meeting her eyes, he knew it was time to go.
No—run, he had to run!
Before the boy could act—
Akuto frowned and stopped.
"Oi, brat."
The spiky-haired kid blinked; realizing he'd been addressed, he heard a voice straight from hell:
"You're holding your head too high."
Crack—!
With a grisly sound, the boy's head flew sky-high.
His face still wore bewilderment.
Blood, thick and sticky, jetted two meters from the stump.
Akuto didn't spare a glance; his attention shifted to himself.
The kid's stare annoyed him because of his body.
He looked down—flat chest, but the comic-book legs were undeniably gorgeous.
He reached out and confirmed his old buddy hadn't returned; his teeth ached at the thought.
"You maniac, what are you doing to my body?!"
"Why did you kill him?"
The voice stayed level yet carried a tremor of panic.
"What?"
Akuto's pupils shrank.
"How can this be?"