The stench of rot was the first thing that hit Akira's senses. It wasn't the smell of a dead animal; it was something sourer, something that felt like it was decaying the very air around him.
He was trapped. The abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of Sendai felt like a ribcage closing in. His lungs burned, each breath a struggle against the heavy, viscous purple mist clinging to the floor.
"Help... please..."
The voice was weak. It came from his younger brother, Nao, who was pinned against the rusted corrugated wall by a mass of twitching, translucent limbs. The creature—the thing—had no face, only a vertical slit filled with rows of jagged, yellowed teeth. It was a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit, born from the collective fear of being forgotten.
Akira's hands shook. He wasn't a sorcerer. He was just a high schooler who happened to be in the wrong place at the catastrophic right time. He gripped a lead pipe, his knuckles white.
Move. Do something. Anything! his mind screamed, but his legs felt like lead.
The Curse let out a wet, gurgling sound. A long, slimy tongue flicked out, tasting Nao's fear. It leaned in, its jaw unhinging to swallow the boy whole.
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
Akira lunged. He didn't swing the pipe; he threw his entire body weight at the monster. The impact felt like hitting a wall of cold jelly. He was tossed aside effortlessly, crashing into a pile of wooden pallets. Splinters dug into his skin, but he didn't feel the pain—only the cold realization of his own powerlessness.
As the Curse turned its sightless gaze toward him, a strange flickering light appeared in Akira's vision. It looked like static on an old TV, then sharpened into glowing, crimson text.
[Condition Met: Absolute Despair]
[System Initializing... Host Compatibility: 99.9%]
[Innate Technique Awakened: Sin Eater (Grade: Unknown)]
What... is this? Akira gasped, blood trickling down his forehead.
[Target: Cursed Spirit (Grade 2)]
[Status: Weakened (Hungry)]
[Prompt: Would you like to 'Consume' to survive?]
The Curse lunged, its maw wide enough to crush Akira's skull. Time seemed to slow. He didn't think. He didn't pray. He reached out with both hands, grabbing the monster's slimy jaw. Instead of pulling away, he pulled the monster closer.
With a roar born of pure survival instinct, Akira did the unthinkable. He didn't punch. He bit.
His teeth sank into the cold, ethereal flesh of the Curse.
A surge of electricity—no, agony—shot through his spine. It felt like swallowing molten lead. The Curse shrieked, a sound that vibrated in his very marrow, but Akira didn't let go. He tore a chunk of the purple energy away and swallowed.
[First Consumption Successful.]
[Absorbing Cursed Energy...]
[Strength +5 | Speed +3 | Cursed Energy Reserves +100]
[Evolution Progress: 0.1%]
The black markings on Akira's arms began to glow a sickly violet. His muscles surged with a sudden, violent power. He looked at the Curse—no longer as a victim, but as a predator looking at a meal.
"My turn," he whispered, his voice sounding deeper, distorted.
Outside the warehouse, two figures in dark uniforms landed silently on the roof. One had white hair and a blindfold, a playful smirk on his lips.
"Well, well," Satoru Gojo muttered, his Six Eyes widening behind the fabric. "That's... certainly a new way to handle an exorcism. Megumi, stay back. This one might be a bit messy."