Atsuya Kusakabe was having a terrible day.
He had planned to slack off. That was his whole plan. When the super barrier plan was announced, he had calculated exactly how to look busy while doing absolutely nothing. Let the Special Grades handle the heavy lifting. That was what they were for.
But someone—he didn't know who, but he had suspicions—had assigned him to a node alone. No partners. No backup. Just him, his sword, and an endless tide of Cursed Spirits.
Then the super barrier collapsed. Then Kamo Itsuki's clone appeared and put up a new barrier. Then the Cursed Spirits started swarming like someone had rung a dinner bell.
And now he had an invigilator. Kamo Itsuki's clone sat on the barrier's edge, watching him with that calm, unreadable expression, making it impossible to even find a good spot to nap.
The only saving grace was the spirit-slaying sword. Kamo had promised he could keep it after the battle, and it was worth more than his entire life savings. With this blade, exorcising Cursed Spirits was like slicing vegetables.
At first, the promise of treasure had motivated him. He had cut through spirits with genuine enthusiasm.
That had lasted approximately three minutes.
Now his arms ached, his feet hurt, and he was desperately scanning for a blind spot where Kamo's clone couldn't see him.
He was just about to duck behind a collapsed billboard when the sky roared.
A passenger plane fell from the heavens.
It descended like divine judgment, metal screaming against air, engines dead, wings trailing smoke. Kusakabe's heart stopped. He saw the impact before it happened—the plane slamming into the guardian barrier, exploding into fire and twisted steel, destroying everything it touched.
Except the barrier held.
The plane crumpled against the dome like paper against glass. Fire blossomed outward, consuming empty cabins, empty seats, empty cockpit. The explosion rocked Ginza, shattering windows for blocks, toppling cars, sending Cursed Spirits fleeing in panic.
But the barrier stood firm. Ripples spread across its surface, absorbed, dissipated.
Kusakabe exhaled. Then he noticed the barrier's light flickered, just slightly, before stabilizing.
'How many more hits can it take?'
Kamo Itsuki's clone turned, his gaze fixed on a distant point in the ruins. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Kusakabe followed his eyes.
A figure stood amid the wreckage, silhouetted against burning buildings. He was already forming another Cursed Technique, his hands moving through complex seals, the air around him shimmering with power.
Reishi Hoshino. Ancient Sorcerer. Contemporary of Kenjaku and Tengen.
Kusakabe sighed deeply. "He just had to show up when I was about to take a break."
He moved.
Black lightning. That was the only way to describe his charge. Kusakabe flowed through the ruins like water, each step precise, each breath measured. The New Shadow Style demanded perfect control, and he had trained in it for decades.
He drew his sword.
*「新陰流・居合・抜刀」
New Shadow Style: Iai — Batto. *
The blade cleared its sheath in a flash—a strike honed by years of practice, condensed into a single, perfect moment. It was speed. It was precision. It was art.
Reishi Hoshino smiled.
His hands flickered. Receipts—ordinary paper receipts—unfolded between his fingers, each one inscribed with dense, ancient script.
*「再契約映像・ドローン群」
Re-contract Image: Drone Swarm. *
Dozens of drones materialized from nothing, forming a living wall of metal and rotors. They intercepted Kusakabe's strike one by one, each drone sacrificing itself to slow the blade. Sparks flew. Metal shrieked.
The Batto halted inches from Reishi's throat.
Kusakabe's eyes widened. Reishi's smile widened.
Some drones survived. They banked, reoriented, and fired.
Bullets ripped through the air. Kusakabe twisted, sword becoming a blur of deflection, but he was off-balance, his perfect strike broken. A round grazed his shoulder. Another tore through his sleeve.
He retreated, putting distance between them, reassessing.
Reishi Hoshino stood among his drone swarm, ancient and untouchable.
"Not bad," the sorcerer said, examining Kusakabe with mild interest. "For a lazy swordsman."
Kusakabe wiped blood from his cheek. "Not bad yourself. For a museum piece."
The drones hummed, waiting for their master's command.
The real battle had begun.
Atsuya Kusakabe had not survived this long in the jujutsu world by panicking. When the drone swarm descended, his body moved before his mind fully registered the threat—decades of New Shadow Style training translating thought into action with no wasted motion.
He flowed through the hail of bullets like water through rocks.
*「新陰流・居合・夕月」
New Shadow Style: Iai — Evening Moon. *
His blade traced a silver arc against the smoke-filled sky—beautiful, lethal, precise. The sword light curved around the drone formation, found the gap Kusakabe had been tracking since the first exchange, and struck directly at Reishi's throat.
The ancient sorcerer's hand flickered. Another receipt unfurled.
*「再契約映像・防弾盾」
Re-contract Image: Bulletproof Shield. *
Light solidified into barrier, catching Kusakabe's blade with a sound like a bell ringing. The strike deflected, but Kusakabe was already moving, already flowing, already pressing.
His sword became a storm.
Reishi retreated, step by step, his feet finding purchase on rubble that should have been unstable, his hands never stopping their dance of summoning. A katana appeared in his grip—he had some skill, some memory of the blade—but Kusakabe's spirit-slaying sword sheared through it in three exchanges.
Kitchen knives flew from Reishi's hands like thrown stars. Kusakabe's blade traced circles in the air, deflecting each one.
A truck materialized above Kusakabe's head, summoned from some stored contract. He sidestepped, and it crashed into the ruins behind him, exploding on impact.
A house began to form around them, walls rising from receipts, enclosing the battlefield. Kusakabe cut his way out before the roof could close.
Through it all, his advance never stopped. Each summoned object bought Reishi seconds. Each second, Kusakabe closed the distance by a step.
There.
The range he needed. The distance where his Simple Domain could reach.
Kusakabe planted his feet. Breathed. Expanded.
*「簡易領域」
Simple Domain. *
The invisible field enveloped them both—a pocket of absolute control where Reishi's summoned objects would falter, where Kusakabe's blade would be law.
Reishi's eyes widened. For the first time, something like fear flickered across his ancient features.
Kusakabe's hand found his sword's hilt.
*「新陰流・居合・抜刀・極」
New Shadow Style: Iai — Batto — Extreme. *
The blade sang.
Once. Twice. A dozen times. Silver light filled the Simple Domain, each strike finding its mark, each cut precise and absolute. Reishi Hoshino's body, held immobile by the domain's pressure, could not evade. Could not block. Could only stand as the sword carved through his defenses, his flesh, his very existence.
When the light faded, there was nothing left of the ancient sorcerer but a scattering of paper receipts, drifting on the hot wind.
Kusakabe sheathed his sword.
The battle was over. The drones had fallen silent without their master. The summoned objects had dissolved into paper. Only the Cursed Spirits remained, milling uncertainly at the edges of the battlefield, waiting for someone to tell them what to do.
Kusakabe looked at his spirit-slaying sword, then at the empty space where Reishi Hoshino had been.
'I need more practice,' he thought, turning away. 'The sword and I aren't in sync yet. Lost control of the force at the end. Didn't mean to cut him into so many pieces.'
He walked back toward the guardian barrier, already cataloging the remaining Cursed Spirits, calculating the most efficient route to exorcise them.
'Sorry about that, unknown Curse User. I'm actually very gentle. Really.'
He paused, glancing back at the drifting paper.
'Well. Most of the time.'
Above him, Kamo Itsuki's clone watched with something that might have been amusement. The guardian barrier pulsed steadily, untouched. The Cursed Spirits were still numerous, but now, without their ancient leader, they were just cleanup.
Kusakabe drew his sword again and got back to work.
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