The energy was not wild, not explosive like that of a low-level Cursed Spirit. On the contrary, it was controlled and stable—a clear sign of someone who fully understood what they were doing.
Damn it… What I was supposed to deal with tonight was a Cursed Spirit. So why did I end up running into a Cursed User instead?
A flicker of irritation slipped into my mind, but I suppressed it immediately. This was not the time to complain. The situation had already unfolded, and two small lives were standing right at its center.
Calm down. I have to stay calm.
I drew in a deep breath, forcing my thoughts to remain clear under the constant interference of the surrounding Cursed Energy. Don't panic. Don't rush. Judging from the pressure I could feel, the old man was around Grade 4, possibly Semi-Grade 3.
Not particularly strong, at least compared to greater threats—but still dangerous. Especially since he was clearly focusing on using his Innate Technique on targets who had absolutely no way to resist.
Those two little girls.
The situation was still within my control. I could win, as long as I thought quickly and acted carefully, without leaving even the slightest opening. First step—barrier.
I immediately channeled my Cursed Energy into the Barrier Pen in my grip. The flow of energy felt cold against my palm, moving smoothly as it followed the Fuinjutsu patterns engraved along the pen's body.
The tip of the pen began to tremble faintly in response to the energy I fed into it, the vibration growing stronger, as if it were on the verge of being released.
In the next instant, the pen slipped free from my hand and floated into the air. It spun slowly, tracing a circular path before releasing an invisible wave that spread outward at high speed.
The space around me shuddered for a brief moment, and a barrier immediately formed, sealing off the entire alley. All outside sounds vanished completely, and even the light seemed muted. The alley was now isolated, severed from the outside world.
The old man visibly flinched.
His eyes widened as he noticed the change around him. He took a half-step back, glancing left and right, as if only now realizing that transparent walls had swallowed his range of movement. One of his hands lifted slightly—a belated defensive reflex.
"Tch! A Jujutsu Sorcerer?" the old man muttered loudly, his voice thick with annoyance as he shot a sharp glare in my direction.
By now, I was already wearing the Deceptive Ghost Mask.
My face was distorted, its features blurred and unstable, as though my very identity refused to be seen. My true facial structure was impossible to discern, even the silhouette of my head appearing subtly different. My height looked altered, and if I were to speak, my voice would sound faint and unclear, as if it came from several directions at once.
Combined with the Protective Hoodie Sweater that covered my body—its black fabric concealing my outline—I likely appeared as nothing more than a foreign shadow. A nameless figure that had emerged from the darkness of the alley, without any clear origin.
It was only natural for him to misunderstand.
Even though I wasn't old enough to enroll in Jujutsu High yet, let alone be an official Jujutsu Sorcerer, that didn't matter. Status, titles, and recognition meant nothing on the battlefield. Right now, only one thing mattered.
Put this man down, and free the two girls from the grip of the old man's Innate Technique.
I dashed forward.
The soles of my feet slammed hard against the asphalt of the alley, the impact echoing sharply through the narrow space. Cursed Energy surged through my entire body, reinforcing my muscles and reflexes, synchronizing with my breathing. Combined with the Movement-Enhancing Shoes I wore, the propulsion in my legs increased dramatically, launching my body forward like an arrow.
In the blink of an eye, the distance between us shrank drastically. My shadow flashed past, overtaking the old man's awareness itself, leaving trails of compressed air in my wake.
"So fast!" the man shouted in shock.
The man's voice trembled slightly, and from the expression on the old man's face, I knew he was genuinely shocked. His body reacted a beat too late; his Cursed Energy fluctuated for a brief moment, losing the stability he had maintained so carefully until now.
And in that instant, I knew. My decision not to train my Innate Technique today had been the right choice.
I was already standing directly behind the two girls. The distance between us was only a few steps—close enough that I could see the fine dust clinging to the tips of their shoes, even the fabric fibers at their heels that had begun to fray from wear.
Their breathing sounded calm, as if they were completely unconscious.
With a light leap, I shot upward. My body vaulted over and between them, passing over their small frames without brushing their skin or clothing even once.
In a fraction of a second, my body hung briefly in the air. The world seemed to slow; the sounds of footsteps and breathing dulled, fading into the background. Then my feet landed firmly on the hard stone of the alley floor, producing a short, sharp impact that echoed through the narrow passage.
At the same time, I manifested my Innate Technique.
Purple flames ignited in the air directly before me, appearing without a sound, as if born from nothingness itself. The violet fire glowed softly, yet it radiated an unmistakably dangerous pressure, making the air around it feel heavy and oppressive. Its color was strange—utterly unlike ordinary flames.
The purple was deep and dense, as though it devoured the surrounding light, creating an impression of darkness that swallowed all other colors. My hand immediately reached out and grasped the blade formed from those flames. Its heat did not burn my skin; instead, it felt familiar, like an extension of my own body.
The moment I took hold of it, Cursed Energy surged violently into the kitchen knife. The flow was wild, like a river released from a shattered dam. The blade trembled fiercely, emitting an increasingly intense violet glow, then began to lengthen little by little.
Its crude shape was eroded by the energy. Dull edges vanished, corners were honed away, until it transformed into a katana—slender, razor-sharp, and lethal. The light reflected along its surface looked cold and merciless.
Without the slightest hesitation, I charged straight toward the man and swung the blade at the old man.
The first slash split the air, producing a piercing whistle that tore through the narrow alley. The man was startled. The old man's eyes widened, and his body recoiled instinctively as he retreated in a rush.
His steps became unsteady, his heel nearly catching on a small stone on the ground. I did not give him even a moment to steady his breathing or regain his stance.
My foot slammed into the ground, and the second slash followed. My movement was faster, deeper, carrying an unmistakable killing intent that I made no effort to conceal. The air quivered under the pressure of my Cursed Energy.
Forced into a corner, the man leapt upward. His movements looked awkward as he tried to reach the rooftop of the building beside the alley. The tip of the katana narrowly missed his leg, leaving behind a scorching trace in the air.
"Tch!"
Midair, he twisted his body roughly. His clothes fluttered chaotically, and without hesitation, he activated his own Innate Technique.
"Illusory Flower Petals: Petal Barrage!"
Crimson flower petals bloomed around him. They appeared one by one, then dozens, then hundreds, spinning wildly like an unnatural miniature storm. Their red hue stood out sharply against the evening sky, shimmering faintly like blood reflecting light.
In the blink of an eye, the petals shot toward me at high speed, carrying a sharp pressure that pricked at my skin even before they made contact with anything.
Without giving it a second thought, I raised my left hand. Cursed Energy flowed rapidly into the Shield Watch encircling my wrist.
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