Under the bright moonlight, a massive silhouette leaped nimbly across the city's rooftops. Each jump spanned at least a hundred meters, leaving deep imprints in the hard reinforced concrete.
"Whoa, so fast!"
Feeling the high-altitude gusts whistling past his face, Kenmyo Isayama allowed himself a rare, childlike smile. Clearly, this was a special experience for him.
He spread his arms and leaned back, exposing himself to the chaotic air currents to better feel the summer chill.
"Idiot! Hold on tight, or you'll fall!"
"It's hundreds of meters to the ground from here. If you fall, you're dead for sure."
Hearing Yomi Isayama's voice from in front of him, Kenmyo sat back properly and stopped his "shouting," resting his hands on her shoulders.
He said apologetically, "Sorry, I got a little carried away."
After all, how many people in this world get the chance to hitch a ride on a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit? The thrill and the absurdity of it all had made him lose his cool for a moment.
Kenmyo was currently straddling a Grade 1 spirit, feeling the massive, furnace-like Cursed Energy reaction beneath him. Yet, it didn't harm him in the slightest.
It wasn't that Kenmyo's psionic power was strong enough to suppress a Grade 1 spirit; rather, it was thanks to his "sister," Yomi. This genuine Grade 1 Cursed Spirit belonged to her.
Unlike the students at Tokyo Jujutsu High who used innate techniques like Cursed Speech or Cursed Spirit Manipulation, Yomi relied on the Special Grade Cursed Tool, [Shishio]. It was an heirloom of the Isayama clan, long whispered to be a cursed blade because it housed a creature from Japanese folklore—the Nue.
The "Nue" was first recorded in The Tale of the Heike. It was described as having the face of a monkey, the body of a tanuki, the limbs of a tiger, and a snake for a tail. It could fly without wings and was considered an omen of misfortune.
These features perfectly matched the spirit Kenmyo was riding. However, the cursed version was far more terrifying: twelve green eyes that could freeze a person's soul with a single glance, and massive tiger-like limbs with claws that could tear through steel plates.
It turned out the legendary monster was real. Generations ago, the Isayama ancestors hadn't exorcised the Nue; instead, they used a special method to seal it within a blade as a trophy. As the clan declined, this item's value only grew, eventually becoming the symbol of the clan head's authority.
This was Kenmyo's first time seeing the actual beast manifested. Its body was so massive that he felt like he was sitting on the broad, flat back of an elephant.
A pity the Flesh Hounds consume too much energy to be summoned casually, Kenmyo thought. Otherwise, riding those would be just as stylish.
"Ken, is this the right way?" Yomi asked.
Under Kenmyo's guidance, as the Nue sprinted, the bustling night markets had faded away, replaced by darkness. They had entered the mountains.
The earlier reports from the families of the missing stated that the 300 visitors had attended an exhibition at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum in Ueno Park, Taito Ward. Taito was known for leather goods, dolls, and traditional crafts, so a "Teru Teru Bozu" exhibit there made sense.
Yomi had focused her investigation on Taito, searching every location capable of hiding 300 people, but had found nothing. Yet, her intuition told her the Butcher was still in the area.
With so many victims, moving them would be difficult. Moreover, the culprit had held a personal exhibition—a sign of an arrogant personality seeking validation for his "art."
They were now at the former site of a grain company. Several massive, abandoned grain silos stood there, looking desolate and devoid of any artistic flair—not at all what Yomi had expected.
However, Kenmyo's Flesh Hound had reached its ten-minute limit and vanished right at this spot.
Kenmyo nodded. "Yomi-nee, this should be the place."
"Maybe if we open one of those silos, we'll find our answer."
In Kenmyo's vision, one of the silos thrummed with a staggering amount of Cursed Energy—it was practically overflowing. Cursed Energy stems from negative emotions; such a dense concentration of hatred was moving even to him.
The reason Yomi hadn't sensed it was because the interior was lined with a barrier similar to a "Curtain," blocking the detection of Cursed Energy.
But that only blocks Cursed Energy. What does that have to do with my Psionics?
Standing at the scene, Kenmyo released his psionic energy in a sudden burst, like a radar wave centered on himself. In his mind, a detailed 3D map formed, rendering the terrain and the silos in perfect detail.
Silo 1 was a fermentation tower. A horrific number of severed limbs were mixed inside, slowly fermenting like some macabre fish sauce.
Silo 2 contained a high altar. A vast number of "Teru Teru Bozu" were strung together by ropes.
Silo 3 showed signs of life—likely where the survivors were being held.
In the center of the Silo 2 altar lay a mangled figure. The coordinates Kenmyo sensed were those of the Butcher, branded by the Flesh Hound.
Suddenly, inside the altar, the Butcher—whose upper body was covered in bite marks and who lay in a pool of gore—snapped his eyes open. He gritted his teeth.
"The damn rats are finally here."
What on earth was that monster from before? It was immune to his curses and had taken his left hand and half his torso in one bite.
"To think you'd turn me into this..."
Even using Cursed Energy to plug the wounds, the blood loss was too great. He was drifting toward death. Yet, for some reason, the monster had vanished into thin air, giving the "surviving" Butcher a few moments for his final words.
There is nothing that cannot be used as a sacrifice. Not even one's own body.
"Death to the withered, eternal life to the night."
Having consumed flesh and blood, the horrifying Teru Teru Bozu began to undergo a metamorphosis.
Kenmyo's face darkened. Something disgusting and swarming, like a carpet of army ants, was pouring out of Silo 2 in a never-ending stream.