Chapter 101: The Book of a Thousand Woes
"Moshi moshi, Onii-chan."
Hachiman let out a sigh of relief when Komachi picked up the phone. Her voice was as energetic as ever. The coordinates of the anomaly were uncomfortably close to her school.
"Are you carrying the blood-red gemstone I gave you?" Hachiman asked, getting straight to the point. It would take him some time to arrive; if an emergency occurred, that gem was her lifeline. Hachiman hadn't been stingy with it—it contained a high-level psychic shockwave and the strongest defensive shield his [Manipulation of Red Blood] could manifest. Even a Special Grade curse would be severely wounded trying to break it.
"I have it. What's wrong, Onii-chan?" Komachi sensed the gravity in his voice and stopped joking.
"There's no sign of trouble yet, but your school might be attacked. Stay indoors away from crowds to avoid a stampede, but stay away from windows. Keep the line open. I'm on my way."
The enemy's cursed energy wasn't high—Hachiman couldn't even sense it from ten kilometers away. However, thanks to the new base station built by Mechamaru, his detection precision had evolved.
Curse Users had more "polluted" energy than Sorcerers, making them stand out on his mental map like neon signs.
"No 'Curtain' has been raised," Hachiman noted. The enemy wasn't making a grand entrance; they were a scalpel aimed at a specific target.
BOOM!
A massive explosion roared through the phone, and the signal flickered for a second. "Komachi! What happened?!"
From her vantage point in the faculty office, Komachi looked out over the playground. A massive, bloody sphere of flesh—like a meteor made of corpses—had slammed into the center of the school's track. The shockwave made the entire building shudder.
"Onii-chan... a ball fell onto the playground!"
The kinetic energy tore up the turf. The "ball"—which was actually a cluster of security guard corpses stitched together to act as a literal meat-cushion—broke apart. Students screamed and scattered in a blind panic.
"Stay away from the windows, Komachi. I'm almost there."
.
.
.
The man who emerged from the meat-cushion was Kurata Nobuhiko. He had used the guards he'd tortured on the rooftop as a shield to survive a 400-meter drop. His body was covered in self-inflicted wounds from his ritual.
"Where are they? My lovely children..." His eyes were bloodshot and predatory.
Ten years ago, his logistics branch had been wiped out—a humiliation he had carried ever since. Now, his eyes locked onto two girls whose cursed energy shone like beacons amidst the "monkeys" (non-sorcerers).
Nanako and Mimiko realized the danger too late. They had been waiting under a tree, bored, when the "flesh meteor" landed. Nanako, the protective older sister, shielded Mimiko from the shockwave.
"Mimiko, are you okay?" Nanako was furious. What kind of idiot Curse User exposes jujutsu in broad daylight? If they were caught, they'd be back under the Association's thumb—and Geto Suguru was currently in no condition to protect them. He was recovering from severe frostbite to his internal organs caused by a Special Grade curse, and the girls didn't want to add to his burdens.
Nanako pulled out her phone—her technique required a camera app—and Mimiko manifested a hangman's noose made of straw.
"Let's show him what Geto-sama taught us," Nanako hissed. But as the man approached, they froze. They recognized the tattoos on his face.
"You!"
Memories of a nightmare childhood resurfaced. This man had been the one who kicked and beat them ten years ago. "Feel the pain," he used to say. "Pain is a gift from God."
"Seems you remember," Kurata grinned, resting a black spear on his shoulder. "You can call me Papa. Now, come home with me."
"DIE!" Mimiko screamed, tears streaming down her face. Her noose manifested around Kurata's neck and yanked him into the air. He clawed at the rope, his eyes bulging, his legs kicking uselessly until he went limp—a textbook hanging.
But he didn't die. He looked down at them with a purple, bloated face and a manic grin.
"So childish. You think this 'playing house' can kill me?"
The sensation of being hung actually seemed to give him a sensory high. He effortlessly snapped the cursed rope.
"I can't waste more time, or Onii-sama will scold me."
.
.
.
By the time Hachiman arrived, the police had cordoned off the area and a "Curtain" had finally been raised. The Association's local sorcerers were already engaged.
Hachiman and Mechamaru entered the barrier. Most students had been evacuated. Komachi ran into Hachiman's arms, trembling. "Onii-chan! Nanako and Mimiko are missing!"
Hachiman realized then: the target wasn't the school, it was Geto's adopted daughters. "I'll handle it. Stay with your classmates."
Inside the Curtain, the playground was a mess of craters. Hachiman saw a 15-meter-long purple python—a shikigami—trying to swallow Mechamaru, who was barely holding its jaws open. The snake's tail was coiled around the unconscious Nanako and Mimiko.
Two other Association sorcerers were fighting Kurata, but they were holding back. Hachiman noticed Mechamaru's left arm was missing and the other sorcerers were covered in burns. Meanwhile, Kurata was covered in wounds but fighting with the frenzy of a man on a stimulant high.
"Another one? Doesn't matter how many come," Kurata laughed.
Hachiman didn't waste words. A blood-red blade crept up behind Kurata's neck. Just as he was about to decapitate him, Mechamaru screamed: "STOP! DON'T KILL HIM, SENPAI!"
The blade nicked Kurata's skin, drawing a drop of blood. Simultaneously, a bloody gash appeared on the necks of Mechamaru, the two sorcerers, and the unconscious Nanako and Mimiko.
"His technique connects our bodies," Mechamaru panted. "Any damage he takes is reflected onto us!"
This was why they were losing. Mechamaru had blasted Kurata with a cannon, only to blow off his own arm. Kurata was a masochist who loved "trading" wounds.
"So I can't kill him, just bind him?" Hachiman murmured.
With a flick of his wrist, Hachiman sent out dozens of blood-threads. They wrapped around Kurata like a cocoon, binding his limbs so tightly he couldn't even wiggle. He did the same to the giant snake.
"Damn you!" Kurata's face turned purple from the pressure. He looked at the other sorcerers and began to bite his own tongue off. He wasn't committing suicide; he was preparing a ritual.
"The [Book of a Thousand Woes] is the gift of suffering!" he gurgled through a mouthful of blood. Every cultist of the Daqian Cult had a blood-soaked scripture sewn into their very flesh. By reaching the peak of agony, they could summon their "God."
In another part of the city, Yukinoshita Yukino felt her [Whip of Torment] begin to vibrate violently, as if it were coming to life.
Back on the playground, Hachiman stepped forward. Before Kurata could finish his "suicide-summoning" chant, Hachiman grabbed the man's head. Like unscrewing a bottle cap, he twisted with overwhelming force and ripped Kurata's head clean off his shoulders.
"The 'wind-up' for that move was way too long," Hachiman muttered.
"Who's going to wait for you to finish?"
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