The dark, imposing obsidian fortress of the Annihilation Raid dissolved. They reappeared in a massive, brightly lit suburban high school gymnasium. The floor was polished wood, the air smelled of stale sweat, and the windows showed a vibrant, unnerving blue sky.
The mood was instantly different. Instead of a cold, oppressive magical density, the air crackled with frantic, erratic spiritual energy.
"Oh, no, no, no, no," Okarun whimpered, clutching his head. "It's too much! I can sense so many spirits! They're fast! They're chaotic! It feels like... like the whole gym is moving at 80 miles per hour!"
"Occult energy," Gojo immediately assessed, pulling his blindfold completely off. His Six Eyes spun, taking in the chaotic spiritual information. "This is fascinating. It's disorganized and low-grade, but the speed of the phenomena is off the charts. It's like a world running on an amphetamine high."
"This is my turf," Okarun muttered, trying to look brave. "The spirits here are dangerous, but they follow rules. Mostly."
The Arbiter's voice, now sounding like a playful, yet dangerous, supernatural enthusiast, rang out.
"Welcome to Trial 4: The Occult Sprint. The exit is the far double door. The distance is 100 meters. You must cross the gymnasium floor in 60 seconds or less. Failure results in a complete system lockdown and a cumulative score penalty."
"A hundred meters in sixty seconds? That's easy! We can crawl that!" Kazuma scoffed, still picking fragments of toad tongue off his clothes.
"No, Kazuma-san! You don't understand!" Okarun cried. "In this world, the spirits aren't looking to kill you—they're looking to possess you, curse you, or, worst of all, make you look uncool! And they're all moving at lightning speed!"
As if on cue, a shimmering, translucent figure materialized in the center court. It was an entity —a terrifying, black-haired apparition. Almost a copy of turbo granny wearing a tracksuit, but this one was faster, larger, and surrounded by a swirling field of spiritual energy.
"Who's that lady?" Saitama asked, mildly interested.
"That's the Boss!" Okarun shrieked. "She's one of the closest things that can match turbo granny! And she's going to hit us with a curse so hard, we'll turn into a pile of dusty, embarrassing memories!"
The speed runner opened her mouth, and a soundless, high-frequency wave of spiritual pressure rolled across the floor.
Jin-Woo's Shadow Soldiers immediately stumbled. "The spiritual pressure is disrupting my control! Beru, Igris—hold your form!"
Gojo winced, clutching his head. "Ugh, this spiritual energy is like a poorly tuned radio frequency, hitting the back of my skull! It's debilitating! I can't think straight!"
"It's a spiritual headache!" Okarun diagnosed, his own head throbbing. "If we don't move, she'll hit us with the ultimate Bad Luck Curse!"
"Bad luck?" Kazuma suddenly looked interested. "Like my always bad luck? If it gets worse, I'll probably step on a landmine and explode the whole gym! Let's go!"
"We must adapt to the speed!" Jin-Woo commanded, realizing brute force was useless against the spiritual chaos. "Igris, Beru—create a low-speed field around us! Minimize the spiritual distortion!"
The two Shadow Monarch generals focused their energy, not on attacking, but on slowing the passage of time in their immediate vicinity, counteracting the gym's frantic speed.
"Tanjiro! Lead the way! Use your scent to find the safest path! Ignore the spirits!"
Tanjiro didn't hesitate. He took a deep breath, and his vision sharpened. The speed runner's spiritual energy was overwhelming, but underneath it, he could follow the subtle scent of the cleanest, fastest air currents on the floor.
"Follow my steps! Don't look away!" Tanjiro yelled. He moved in a continuous, elegant flow, leading the way towards the far door. "Hinokami Kagura: Waltz!"
They were moving—a chaotic, uncoordinated line following the only rational mind on the team.
The speed runner launched her attack: a high-speed projectile of spiritual force aimed directly at Tanjiro.
"Okarun! Defense!" Tanjiro cried, unable to break his rhythm.
Okarun, adrenaline surging, pushed past his fear. He channeled his own latent spiritual power, combining it with the Turbo-Granny possession, and threw his hand out. "Alien Beam!"
A shaky, shimmering, but undeniably powerful beam of psychic energy erupted from his hand, slamming into the spiritual projectile. Both attacks dissolved into a harmless shower of white sparks.
"I... I blocked it!" Okarun cheered, his terror briefly replaced by triumph. "I'm a hero! I'm amazing! HE SEES the looks.
"I'm going to turn into a dusty pile of embarrassment!"
"Not bad, Kid!" Gojo praised, still wincing from the spiritual noise. "Now, distract the ugly one! I'm going to help the short guy run!"
Gojo rushed to Kazuma's side. Since Gojo couldn't use Infinity to stop time, he did the next best thing: he used his immense, ungodly physical strength to throw Kazuma twenty feet at a time, calculating the trajectory to land him perfectly behind Jin-Woo.
"WE'RE BEING USED AS A PROJECTILE! I DEMAND COMPENSATION!" Kazuma shrieked in mid-flight. He landed on Jin-Woo's back.
"Hold on. You are the 'Weakest Entity.' Your low spiritual signature is an asset," Jin-Woo stated, maintaining his defensive field.
They were fifty meters from the exit. The timer read 00:25.
The speed runner had changed tactics. She was now moving, rushing toward them at supersonic speed, intending to land a physical, high-speed punch, turning them all into spiritual dust.
"She's too fast! She's faster than Okarun!" Tanjiro yelled.
Gojo tried to step in her path, preparing to meet her with a physical punch, but the spiritual distortion was too great. "I can't lock her speed! Her concept is too chaotic!"
Jin-Woo saw the attack coming. He couldn't kill her, or the Arbiter would penalize them for excessive force against a spiritual entity. He had to stop her.
He took a deep breath, risking his Mana reserves. "Skill: Ruler's Authority!"
Jin-Woo deployed the telekinetic force, not to attack the runners, but to grab the air around her and hold it still. The speed runner the invisible wall of force, screeching in soundless fury as her massive momentum was instantly halted.
"She's frozen! Now, Saitama!" Jin-Woo commanded, his face straining from the effort.
Saitama, who had been lazily walking, finally stepped forward. He understood the assignment: disable the threat, don't destroy the environment.
He walked right up to the paralyzed speed runner. Instead of punching her, he simply reached out and performed the most humiliating, low-concept attack imaginable.
Saitama flicked her tracksuit with his index finger, pulling the material slightly away from her body.
The tiny, insignificant action of adjusting the clothing was enough to disrupt the runners tightly wound spiritual anchor to the physical world. Her immense speed was tied to the concept of her tracksuit.
The speed runner instantly dematerialized, screaming a high-pitched, soundless wail of pure, existential indignity as she was dispelled from the dimension.
"That was unnecessary," Saitama said, adjusting his own singed collar.
"It was a brilliant counter!" Gojo roared, his headache immediately receding. "She was defeated by a fashion critique! I love this team!"
00:10 flashed the timer.
"The clock is still running! Move!" Jin-Woo yelled, already sprinting the last thirty meters.
The Nexus Six, now operating with terrifying speed and chaotic energy, rushed the double doors. Okarun threw himself at the handle, his Turbo-Granny strength ripping the door open, "ain't no way I'm staying another second, can't let momo be sad" and they tumbled through just as the timer hit 00:00.
They were back in the pristine white void. The spiritual pressure was gone, replaced by the silence.
"TRIAL SUCCESS: POINT AWARDED."
Kazuma, gasping for air, stood up, brushing the dirt off his clothes. "I'm still alive! And I think I still have my stolen toad tongues! My luck is finally turning... oh, wait. I landed in a puddle."
Jin-Woo and Gojo exchanged a look of mutual exhaustion and grudging respect. They had to rely on low-concept physics and embarrassing spiritual disruptions rather than their true god-tier powers.
"The next trial will be different," Jin-Woo stated, rubbing the phantom ache in his Mana Core. "The Arbiter is cycling through our weaknesses. Low-concept, high-concept, speed. Only Tanjiro's world remains."
Tanjiro stood tall, his breathing steady. "My world is simple. Demons and blades. But the true threat is poison, blood magic, and finding the one, true weak point. We must conserve our energy and coordinate, or we will be overwhelmed by the blood magic."
"I'm ready for a world that can't be destroyed by a single punch," Gojo declared, putting his blindfold back on. "Let's see if your world can give me a decent challenge, Swordsman-kun."
"I'm ready to steal a Demon's kidney!" Kazuma yelled, pumping his fist.
The Arbiter's voice returned, heavy and final.
"Prepare yourselves. You have twelve hours of rest. The Final Trial will test the limits of your physical endurance, your discipline, and your ability to cut through the impossible. Do not fail."