Chapter Twenty-One: The Grade One Curse Part Two
The team of three individuals had confirmed their plan.
The decision, born of desperation and cold logic, hung in the shimmering air of their silver domain. There were no more debates, no moral qualms spoken aloud. The path was chosen.
They began pumping cursed energy without delay.
Kasumi, positioned at the front of their tiny huddle, closed her eyes. A faint, sputtering blue aura flickered around her good hand as she redirected the flow of the Simple Domain. The humming silver light around them intensified, focusing into a sharp point aimed at the golden barrier wall in front of them.
Their cursed energy was very little, but for the sake of survival, it was clear what they had to do.
It was a pathetic amount of power. Drops from an almost-empty well. But it was all they had, and the intent behind it was razor-sharp: create a weakness, a chink in the armor of their own prison.
—Destroy the barrier. Help the curse. Don't pay attention to any other problems. Escape at maximum speed after that.—
Obito repeated the steps in his mind like a grim mantra. A clear, precise plan without hesitation. Any hesitation in it could make the situation worse.
A clear, precise plan without hesitation. Any hesitation in it could make the situation worse.
He pushed every other thought aside—the people outside, the morality, the future consequences. Survival was a tunnel, and he was at the end of it, seeing only the light of 'out.'
Kasumi was at the front; her injury still hurt her, but after thinking carefully, in addition to her desire to live, which had sparked her hope again to stay alive, her cursed energy increased slightly.
The will to live was a potent fuel. The acceptance of a terrible choice had, paradoxically, given her a second wind. Her cursed energy, which had been guttering like a dying candle, flared with a steadier, if still weak, blue flame.
The revival of her cursed energy came due to the time she was in a state of continuous concentration, in addition to that, using the support team's barrier wasn't only for building a safe area for a period.
The Simple Domain wasn't just a hideout. It was a refining filter, drawing ambient cursed energy (mostly from the main barrier itself) and processing it into a purer, more manageable form for its caster and, by proximity, her allies.
That private area of the New Shadow Style technique was also enhancing the cursed energy of the three and increasing their healing ability, even if by a simple percentage.
It was a subtle effect, like being in a sterile environment. The Domain suppressed hostile energy and gently boosted their own natural recovery. It wouldn't heal a broken arm, but it could stem psychic bleeding and allow a sliver of energy regeneration.
Which helped them gather some cursed energy.
It was enough. Just enough to turn the key in a lock they weren't supposed to touch.
"I feel it. The factory curse won't delay much longer."
Kasumi's voice was a strained whisper, her eyes still closed, reading the energy flows through her connection to the Domain. The pressure from the main room was a tectonic plate shifting, ready to erupt.
After saying these words, Obito advanced and grabbed her shoulder and controlled his cursed energy, which had recovered slightly because of the simple domain.
His hand on her shoulder wasn't a gesture of comfort; it was a circuit connection. He focused, pushing his own meager, jagged stream of cursed energy towards her, adding his fuel to hers.
True, the injuries, physical damage, and extreme exhaustion were still present, but that had decreased to a level that made him able to move, albeit slightly.
The Domain's gentle effect had taken the edge off the system-wide shock. He wasn't well; he was merely not actively dying. It was a low bar, but he cleared it.
Therefore, while pressing his cursed energy and giving it, his focus was clearer on the idea of survival.
He visualized it: a needle of combined energy, piercing the golden wall. A tiny hole. An escape route. That was all he saw.
—Transfer energy. Don't think about anything else. Follow. You must live.—
His damaged brain was working, sending these commands in a non-sequential manner to his body so that his body would perform the painful action sequentially.
Mai's condition was a little worse. Her body was weaker, but she didn't hesitate to transfer her cursed energy, even if it hurt her.
She placed a trembling hand on Kasumi's other shoulder. Her energy output was the faintest of the three, a thin, blue trickle that felt like squeezing water from a stone. But she pushed it all, every last spark. Her face was pale, her jaw clenched against the fresh wave of migraine-like pain.
She wanted to participate in anything she could do to ensure her survival.
Participation was control. Doing something, even this terrible something, was better than passive waiting for death.
The tripartite work was increasing in precision, as if they were increasing their confidence in each other without realizing it.
There was no spoken coordination. Their energies simply… synchronized. Kasumi's steady, disciplined flow acted as the conductor. Obito's raw, desperate surge provided the brute force. Mai's precise, thin stream fine-tuned the focus. Against all odds, they were working as a unit.
The proximity to death for the three, in addition to the experiences they had undergone with each other, had made their cursed energy respond more quickly thanks to trust without awareness.
A bond forged in blood, pain, and shared terror. It wasn't friendship. It was something deeper and darker: mutual dependency in the face of annihilation.
The process was proceeding with three. The curse's energy was still in the air and was increasing in density.
Outside their silver bubble, the world was turning violet. The pressure was a physical wall, a silent scream that vibrated in their teeth. They could feel the Grade One curse gathering its power for the final push against the main barrier.
The cursed barrier wall that the support team had formed was cracking.
CRACK-CRACKLE-ZZZT!
The sounds were getting louder, closer. The golden light flickered wildly, casting frantic shadows across the ruined factory floor around their hidden dome.
Kasumi, who was responsible for forming the simple domain, was the person most capable of sensing the change and gradual weakening of the barrier.
Her connection to the energy matrix was intimate. She felt each fracture propagate, each talisman burnout like a small death. The barrier was dying. It was only a matter of seconds.
But at one moment, everything changed.
The focused drill of energy they were preparing to launch… stuttered. The target shifted.
The barrier that was about to disintegrate opened directly in front of them.
Not a hole they made. A deliberate, controlled dissolution of the barrier in their immediate vicinity. A section of the golden wall simply… vanished, melting away like mist in sunlight, revealing the dark, open space of the factory yard and the night sky beyond.
The group of three was shocked. They stopped quickly from continuing because there was no need.
Their combined energy, with no target, faltered and dissipated harmlessly. They stood there, a triptych of confusion and exhaustion, staring at the sudden, impossible exit.
Kasumi, as the person at the front at this moment, said, "What's going on? Why are they turning off the barrier suddenly?"
Her voice was thick with confusion and a dawning, terrible hope. She lowered her hands, the silver Simple Domain flickering uncertainly around them. Had the support team realized their mistake? Had the Grade One backup arrived?
She felt confused, in addition to not understanding the reason that would make the support team stop the barrier at this moment.
It made no tactical sense. Unless… unless the barrier had failed completely elsewhere, and this was just a cascading collapse. But the dissolution felt too controlled, too localized.
"It doesn't matter. This means we have a chance to get out without needing to consume our cursed energy."
Mai didn't care about the reasons. She just wanted to get out of this despicable place and stay alive. Therefore, she didn't need any reason to delay.
Mai didn't care about the reasons. She just wanted to get out of this despicable place and stay alive.
Her eyes were fixed on the opening, a hungry, feral look in them. The exit. Freedom. Life. The 'why' was irrelevant.
Therefore, she didn't need any reason to delay. The moment the wall and barrier of cursed energy in front of her began to disintegrate quickly, visible to the naked eye.
She took a stumbling step forward, towards the opening. The silver Domain around them, its purpose suddenly obsolete, began to waver and fade, its light dying like a sunset.
Obito, on the other hand, his eyes were also shocked, and his mind could only think about the reason for the barrier's destruction.
His nature, which told him to think when he was in pain and to think to survive, this nature that had begun to emerge since he entered this world, was increasing little by little over time.
His nature, which told him to think when he was in pain and to think to survive, this nature that had begun to emerge since he entered this world, was increasing little by little over time.
The office worker was gone. In his place was a paranoid, analytical survivor who trusted nothing, especially not unexpected miracles.
Therefore, he couldn't prevent himself from thinking about the reason for stopping the barrier from the other side.
Something was wrong. This was too easy. This was a trap. Or a mistake with even deadlier consequences.
—
The thing Obito didn't realize was that the support team's situation had reached its maximum states.
Outside, it wasn't a conscious decision to lower the barrier. It was a catastrophic failure.
Not only were they suffering from dealing with a Grade One curse, which was above their level, but the barriers and talismans were also insufficient to repel such concentrated cursed energy that was aimed at destroying the barrier.
Narumi Seto's team had been pushed far beyond their limits. The curse's focused drills weren't random; they targeted the structural weak points of the barrier matrix with terrifying intelligence. Talisman after talisman burned out. Technicians collapsed from mental strain.
In addition to that, Kasumi wasn't connected to the barrier enough to know the damage in all parts of the factory, not only on their side.
Her Simple Domain was a local phenomenon, tuned to their immediate surroundings. She couldn't feel the barrier crumbling on the far side of the massive factory complex.
Therefore, she didn't know that the barrier in all areas was reaching its maximum state.
The entire golden dome was a network under simultaneous, coordinated attack. It wasn't just 'cracking'; it was experiencing a systemic collapse.
The curse was faster than the team of three who were seeking to destroy the barrier from one side.
While they had been mustering their pathetic combined attack, the Grade One curse had already identified a dozen critical points and was assaulting them all at once with terrifying efficiency.
The curse was much faster than them, and its target was the entire factory, not just one point.
Its intelligence wasn't human, but it was brutally logical. It didn't care about three hiding ants. It wanted the cage gone. So it attacked the cage's entire structure.
—
A sound of shattering erupted in all parts of the factory.
KABOOOOOM—CRASH-SHATTER!
It wasn't a single sound, but a symphony of destruction. The golden barrier didn't just open a door; it imploded. The entire dome shattered into a million fading shards of light, dissolving into the night air like golden snow.
From the outside, everyone was falling to the ground, suffering from severe exhaustion, and their minds were almost burning from trying to use spoken talismans, to using paper talismans and seals.
The support team lay scattered around the perimeter, some unconscious, most groaning in pain, their uniforms stained with sweat and, in some cases, blood from nosebleeds. The backlash from the barrier's destruction was immense.
But while the support team was falling to the ground, the movement of Narumi Seto's body kneeling on the ground was different.
He was on his knees, but his head was raised, his eyes wide, not with defeat, but with shock and… awe?
Where his body was trembling, and at the same time, the sound of footsteps walking directly in front of him towards the factory door was heard.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
*A calm, measured, unhurried sound of leather soles on concrete. The footsteps of someone who was not running, not panicking, but simply arriving**.
His movements, his formal clothes and his confident expression, in addition to the watch he looked at and said in a low voice:
The man who walked past him was tall, dressed in a impeccably tailored blue suit, a white shirt, and a blue tie. His blonde hair was neatly combed. He wore thin, black-framed glasses. He checked his wristwatch with a slight frown.
"I must finish this work before it becomes 9:00."
His voice was calm, almost bored, as if commenting on a mundane deadline for a paperwork submission.
He was saying that with indifference, unconcerned with the cursed energy or the barrier that was being destroyed.
The cataclysmic release of malice from the factory, the screaming support staff, the shattered barrier—none of it seemed to register as anything more than a minor professional inconvenience.
He was holding the cleaver that was in his grip with a light movement, and while taking it out, the barrier shattered.
With a casual, practiced motion, he drew a heavily wrapped object from his side—a cleaver-shaped cursed tool. As it cleared its sheath, the final remnants of the barrier's resistance seemed to give way completely, as if acknowledging a superior authority.
Narumi looked at the shaman who was moving calmly while the confidence that had been lost minutes ago began to return.
He stared, his mouth agape. The sheer, unflappable normality of the man's demeanor in this hellscape was more shocking than any display of power.
He said, "Mr. Kento Nanami..."
The name was a breathless whisper, a prayer answered by the most unlikely of gods.
He said it, not believing that a Grade One shaman had arrived at the place.
Kento Nanami. The 7:3 sorcerer. A man who treated jujutsu as a job and preferred his overtime to be predictable. He was here.
—
Nanami moved with extreme coolness and went directly to the place where the barrier had shattered.
He didn't run. He walked with purposeful, efficient strides, his cleaver held loosely at his side. He stepped over fallen support staff without a second glance, his eyes fixed on the gaping maw of the factory entrance, from which a tide of Grade One cursed energy was now pouring out like a visible, violet-black fog.
But to his surprise, there were three individuals looking at him with shocked eyes.
As he reached the threshold, his sharp eyes, accustomed to assessing battlefields instantly, took in the scene just inside the ruined doorway. Not the curse he expected to be charging out, but three battered, bleeding teenagers, standing in a dissipating silver bubble.
One of them was wearing the black Jujutsu uniform of Kyoto Academy with black pants, but torn; his shoulder was bleeding blood. That was Obito.
Obito stood swaying, his uniform jacket ripped, a deep gash on his shoulder still oozing crimson. His face was pale, streaked with grime and blood, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock, exhaustion, and dawning, unbelievable hope.
While the girl on the other side had her arm shattered and twisted, bleeding directly from her stomach intermittently; her breathing was intermittent, but she showed unnatural calm. That was Kasumi Miwa.
Kasumi held herself upright by sheer will, her broken arm cradled against her stomach, which was stained dark red. Her breathing was shallow, ragged, but her gaze, though clouded with pain, was focused and clear. She still held her katana in her good hand, its blade pointing down.
And on the other side of Obito was Mai; her face had turned red from extreme fatigue, and her veins were pulsating, but her body wasn't very damaged, but she was in a state of exhaustion.
Mai leaned heavily against a piece of broken machinery, her face flushed with exertion and strain, the blood vessels in her neck and temples standing out. She looked like she might vomit or pass out at any second, but her eyes were locked on Nanami, burning with a desperate intensity.
The Grade One shaman looked at the three with surprise before saying in a voice with a hint of relief mixed with some disbelief:
"Are you really alive?"
His voice was its usual low, measured baritone, but there was a slight, almost imperceptible crack in its professional detachment. He adjusted his glasses with a finger.
When the Jujutsu council had contacted him because he was close to the location, he had been informed that there were no survivors from the students who had entered to exterminate the Grade Three curses.
The report had been clear: three Grade Three students, mission parameters catastrophically exceeded, Grade One energy signature detected, barrier at critical failure. Prognosis: Fatalities assumed. His mission: contain and exorcise the emergent Grade One curse.
Therefore, he had been quick to go to that location; it was the first time in a long time he had ignored work hours.
A small, personal rebellion against his own philosophy. He hated overtime, but he hated the wasteful death of children more, even if they were, statistically, already gone.
His eyes behind the black glasses were angry, and his neatly combed blonde hair moved with extreme coolness while facing the cursed energy coming out of his body.
As he'd approached, his aura had been one of focused, professional irritation. The cursed energy rolling out of the factory was a nuisance, a mess that would require paperwork and likely ruin his evening. His own power, a sharp, golden ratio of lethal intent, had been rising to meet it.
But at this moment, his eyes were relieved. He didn't want these students to die, but in the end, he had accepted that this was a reality.
Finding them dead would have been a tragedy, but a predictable one in their line of work. He had mentally prepared for it during his brisk walk to the site.
But finding them alive, even with serious injuries, was a pleasantly surprising relief.
It was an anomaly. A statistically improbable positive outlier. It didn't make him happy—Nanami didn't do 'happy'—but it settled a cold, hard knot of professional dissatisfaction in his gut.
And he wasn't the only one who was shocked.
Narumi Seto, who was watching from a distance, was stunned, and the astonishment turned into guilt in the moment that followed.
Narumi, who was watching from a distance, was stunned, and the astonishment turned into guilt in the moment that followed.
He saw the three figures, bloody but standing, in the doorway. The reality of what he had almost done—sealed them in to die—hit him like a physical blow.
—He would have killed the students if he had opened the barrier.—
The thought was a venomous whisper. But the truth was worse: he hadn't opened it. He had reinforced it. He had tried to seal their tomb.
He looked at the students' injuries, which were already severe; all three of them were injured to the point that blood was coming out of their bodies.
From his vantage point, he could see the dark stains, the unnatural angles, the pallor of their faces. They were alive, but they were hanging by a thread.
They were trembling, in addition to that, their breathing was abnormal; even from a distance, he could see that.
Kasumi's short, pained gasps. Obito's ragged heaves. Mai's shallow, rapid breathing. They were in shock, in severe pain, on the verge of collapse.
—Dammit. I expected them to be dead.—
He had been sure of it. How could new Grade Three people survive in front of a Grade One curse for all this time? More than an hour had passed since they entered. It was impossible for them to survive, and the protocol said so.
He had been sure of it. How could new Grade Three people survive in front of a Grade One curse for all this time?
His logic had been impeccable. His decision had been by the book. The book was wrong. The book had nearly murdered three kids.
He wanted any idea to make him stop feeling guilty, but in the end, he wouldn't be able to move. He was stunned.
He remained on his knees, paralyzed by a guilt so profound it felt like a physical weight. He couldn't even stand to go help them.
—
Obito opened his eyes, shocked. The moment the barrier shattered, a man appeared before them wearing a formal blue suit, a white shirt, and a blue tie, black-framed glasses, in addition to blonde hair, and his eyes hid sharp blue. He was looking at them with great calm.
The man was an island of order in the sea of chaos. His suit was crisp, untouched by dust or blood. His demeanor was that of a salaryman who had stumbled upon a particularly troublesome leak in the office, not a sorcerer facing a Grade One curse.
But Obito, in addition to the other two, Kasumi and Mai, felt the look of relief from the man who said to them:
Nanami's sharp gaze swept over them once more, a quick, professional assessment. The relief was there, in the slight relaxation of his shoulders, the minute softening around his eyes behind the glasses.
"It's good that you're alive. Well done."
He said that as if he hadn't expected anyone to survive before his arrival, and as if he was looking at a talking corpse standing before him.
He said that as if he hadn't expected anyone to survive before his arrival, and as if he was looking at a talking corpse standing before him.
The praise was automatic, professional. 'Well done' for not being dead. It was the highest compliment a Jujutsu sorcerer could often hope for.
But any of them couldn't move. Each of them had reached their maximum capabilities.
The adrenaline that had sustained them through the planning, the energy transfer, the shock of the barrier's collapse—it was gone. The sight of a Grade One sorcerer, of safety, was the release valve. Their bodies, held together by desperation alone, began to come apart.
The moment one of them came out of the barrier, he felt as if his body was several times heavier.
The oppressive weight of the Grade One curse's domain, which had been partially held back by their own Simple Domain and the main barrier, now settled on them fully. It was like stepping into a gravity well.
The first to begin was Mai falling on her face.
Thud.
A soft, final sound. Her legs simply gave out. She pitched forward, her consciousness fleeing the moment the external threat was neutralized by a higher authority. She didn't even try to break her fall.
She lost consciousness the next moment. She was ready to run outside, but the presence of the Grade One shaman in front of her dispelled all the fear that had controlled her.
The primal 'run' signal was cut off. The fear was replaced by a void, and into that void rushed the full, crushing weight of her exhaustion and injuries.
There was no feeling of relief; there was a feeling that the body couldn't cross the second degree of difficulty. She lost consciousness while looking at the ground in astonishment because she could survive.
Her last thought was a detached, distant surprise. Oh. I might live. How… strange. Then darkness.*
Kasumi was holding the sword. She was ready to escape to survive, to fight in another battle; she would have made an effort to survive or fight until death, death to stay alive.
Her warrior's spirit, the one that had been prepared to help destroy the barrier or make a final stand, was still active. But her body was sending different signals.
But now she looks at the Grade One shaman, and her body had told her—Stop now. You won't be able to move after this. This is the end.—
The command was biological, undeniable. Her systems were shutting down, prioritizing essential functions. The light reaching her eyes began to flicker.
The light that was reaching her eyes began to flick out. Her heartbeats were decreasing to the limits she had exceeded to reach this place.
Her heartbeat, which had been a frantic drum, slowed to a sluggish, weak thump. Thump… …thump….
The limits she had surpassed to reach this place began to feel as if she had crossed the finish line.
She had done her duty. She had led her team. She had fought until there was no fight left. Someone more capable was here. Her job was over.
The girl lost consciousness in front of Nanami Kento and fell beside Mai without realizing it.
Her grip on the katana loosened. The blade slipped from her fingers and clattered to the concrete floor with a soft clang. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed in a controlled, graceful slump next to Mai's prone form.
Obito stood, breathing in wonder, looking at the man in front of him as if looking at a savior.
Nanami was now looking past them, into the depths of the factory, where the violet-black fog was coalescing into a distinct, menacing humanoid shape with blade-arms and multiple eyes. The real work was about to begin. But Obito only saw the man who represented life.
He felt as if he was on the brink of death a moment ago. Even with running, if the curse came out, no matter how fast they were, all the people here would die. His life would also end.
The mental image was vivid: the blade-armed curse tearing through the support team, then chasing them down. No escape. His second life, this unwanted, terrifying life, snuffed out in a rust-filled factory.
This life that he didn't want to be in this world was going to end in the ugliest way possible.
The bitter irony of it all. Reincarnated into a hellish power fantasy, only to be killed by a random boss monster in a filler arc. What a stupid way to go.
Therefore, he looked at the man and said one thing before losing consciousness, before the last atoms of awareness in his head disappeared:
"Please... kill it."
The words were a raw, desperate whisper, devoid of any pride or strategy. Just a final, fundamental plea from one living thing to another who had the power to grant continuation.
Obito lost consciousness at this moment.
His vision tunneled, the image of Nanami's sharp profile against the factory darkness being the last thing he saw. Then, the world dissolved into a warm, welcoming, painless black.
His body swayed for a second, then followed the two girls to the ground, joining them in a heap of battered black uniforms and blood.
---
Kento Nanami watched the third student collapse.
He adjusted his tie with a slight, practiced motion.
He looked from the three unconscious forms at his feet to the fully-formed Grade One curse now stepping out of the shadows of the factory entrance, its blade-arms whirring, its three eyes fixed on him with cold, intelligent malice.
The curse had achieved its goal. The cage was gone.
Now it faced the exterminator.
Nanami raised his wrapped cleaver, Ratio Technique already calculating the optimal points of division in the curse's form.
7:3.
A sigh, almost inaudible, escaped his lips. Overtime. On a Thursday.
But at least the kids were alive. That made the paperwork slightly more tolerable.
He took a step forward, his shoe making a soft tap on the concrete.
The final fight began, not with a roar, but with the calm, professional focus of a man doing a necessary, if unpleasant, job.
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End of Chapter.
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