An angel...?
The boy was dazed — because he genuinely thought one had descended.
Blue hair shimmered with a holy light in the dim air, utterly out of place in this filthy warehouse, this cage soaked in blood and death.
She reached out and touched him.
Warmth spread from the point of contact. The wounds on his face sealed shut. The blood on his head dried away. Every scrap of pain receded like a tide going out. His body felt light — scrubbed clean, like something had washed through him — and even breathing came easy again.
Like receiving a sacred baptism.
But no — none of that was actually why Junpei thought she was an angel.
The real reason was her eyes. They were bright. Utterly clear.
The eyes of someone who had never once cursed another person with malice.
"Can you move?" she was saying to him. "If you can, take everyone else in here and get as far away as possible. Because when the fighting starts, this whole place might get leveled."
Junpei snapped back to himself.
Bang. Bang.
The crashes against the iron container were getting louder.
That monster was about to break out. It had already killed the kidnapper — and now it was throwing itself against the walls of the container with even greater force, each impact shaking the warehouse floor beneath their feet.
This place was still extremely dangerous.
Is the angel here to punish the demon and the wicked?
"Please be careful, miss angel." Junpei's voice still trembled, but he forced himself to speak clearly. "That monster... it's terrifying. It's already killed a lot of people."
The blue-haired girl glanced back at him and smiled, giving a small nod. "I know. Thank you. I'll leave these two to you."
She meant the two remaining kidnapping victims still inside the warehouse.
Junpei clenched his jaw. He hoisted one person under his left arm and the other under his right, locking them hard onto his shoulders.
Heavy.
His injuries had been healed, yes — but he'd never been particularly strong to begin with.
Still, he held on. Gritted his teeth and kept going.
This was what the angel had entrusted to him. He would see it done.
The rest of the captives were carried out by a swarm of small rabbits, lifted and borne toward the exit.
The Curtain wouldn't block ordinary people — they could all get through.
And so the warehouse was left with only Mahiko.
Her gaze settled on the iron container.
BANG!!
The container exploded open.
Shrapnel flew in every direction. Dust and smoke billowed to the ceiling. A strange, rank Cursed Energy oozed from the blown-open gap — thick and reeking of blood.
Mahiko smiled, her interest piqued.
A silhouette walked out from the smoke.
It was a figure gaunt as a skeleton, its torso encased in a shell of vivid crimson — a blood-red armor, like a corpse that had crawled out of some nightmare.
It looked at Mahiko. A sound pressed out from its throat: "Urgh... urgh..."
Their eyes met.
"Hello there," Mahiko said pleasantly. "How many generations back are you?"
Idle Transfiguration.
Yes — that was Idle Transfiguration.
The moment the monster had killed the kidnapper, Mahiko had already sensed it: the Jujutsu Technique this creature used was similar to her own. At the very least, the aura was the same.
Idle Transfiguration, hm?
But the technique it used was clearly weak. Crude. Worlds apart from Mahiko's own Idle Transfiguration — the difference between a finished product and a defective reject.
And yet, no matter how feeble the creature's cursed arts, the mere fact of its existence was already an extraordinary shock.
It meant the story of this world had already deviated — absolutely and irrevocably — from its original course. An existence that had never appeared in the canon was now standing right in front of her.
A Cursed Spirit born from the negative emotions humans harbored toward one another — the predecessor of her own lineage, one or perhaps two generations prior — was here.
---
"It can't be helped. Mahiko is growing far too fast, and she's far too uncontrollable." Kenjaku gave a light laugh, his tone carrying a note of weary resignation. "So I have to come prepared... which means digging up the garbage I had stored away, and seeing if any of it can be recycled."
"Were all the previous generations of Mahito inferior to the current one?" Rime asked.
"Inferior? That's an understatement. If the current Mahito is a top student, then the earlier generations were barely functional." Kenjaku narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "You know — Jogo and Hanami as they exist today are both first-generation Cursed Spirits, born from volcanoes and forests. They've been in hiding... or perhaps hibernation is the better word. Living all this time in obscurity. Dagon is the second generation. As for Mahito — she's actually the fourth."
"But there's no record of Mahito in human history," Rime said. "Your doing?"
"Mm... well. The failed generations of Mahito were all converted into cursed objects by me. Cursed Spirits ordinarily can't become cursed objects, but Mahito's soul characteristics make her an exception." Kenjaku smiled. "A cursed object carries a soul. Feed it to a human, and the object takes on flesh — possesses the body. An ancient soul is reborn in the modern era. And the Mahito I dispatched just now — that is the first generation."
"And it's about to die," Rime said flatly. "Killed by Mahiko."
"Who can say." Kenjaku shrugged. "First-generation Mahito is weak — little better than a stray dog in front of Mahiko. But I ran a new experiment on it, so one can't generalize."
Rime frowned. "What experiment?"
Kenjaku smiled. "I wanted to see what would happen when a single body receives two cursed objects at once."
---
Cursed Energy was condensing.
Mahiko blinked, startled.
"Wha—..."
Because she watched as the monster raised both hands — blood surging from its wounds, flowing between its palms and gathering to a single crimson point.
That was—!
"Piercing... Blood!"
Shrrk——
The air tore with a sharp, piercing shriek. A blood-red beam slashed across the warehouse. The premonition of danger surging through Mahiko's mind drove her body sideways — but the beam, compressed blood pushed to its absolute limit, still punched clean through her shoulder.
Because it was simply too fast.
Searing pain.
Mahiko's eyes went wide.
She'd been hurt?
Not just on the physical level — this creature had wounded her at the level of her soul.
Pain and bewilderment crashed over her at the same time.
Why could it hurt her?
No — before that question, there was a more fundamental one: why was this creature using Piercing Blood at all? That was unmistakably a genuine Blood Manipulation technique — a Jujutsu Technique belonging only to the sorcerers of the Three Great Clans.
Its Blood Manipulation was raw and unpolished — but Piercing Blood, even in the hands of the rawest novice, carried the power to pierce through anything.
Mahiko pressed her hand against the wound in her shoulder, eyes narrowing as she studied the monster carefully for the first time.
Then she saw it clearly.
This creature carried the aura of two entirely distinct souls layered within its body. One was blue — the aura of Idle Transfiguration, the same origin as her own technique. The other was crimson red, radiating a dense, bloody light.
This monster had two souls inside it. Two techniques.
Even to Mahiko's eyes — the eyes of a Cursed Spirit — this thing was aberrant beyond all description.
____
👻🔥Read More: Walnut-chan🔥👻
🔥 New history: JJK: Naoya Zenin Reborn as a Woman
Help us hit our community goals:
🎯 100 Powerstones = +1 Bonus Chapter for everyone