It wasn't until the suffocating pressure completely vanished that Himeno, as if drained, slumped down, almost collapsing to the ground. She gasped violently, her back completely drenched in cold sweat.
"Himeno?" A nearby team member called out cautiously, their voice still trembling.
"Himeno! Himeno!" The team member called out a few more times before rousing Himeno from her daze.
"Huh? I..." Himeno came back to her senses, her face still pale with lingering shock.
"Go back and register, follow the procedures, sign the highest confidentiality agreement, and then... you can leave the base to rest." The captain, who seemed to have recovered, spoke in a hoarse voice, his face etched with the numbness and exhaustion of someone who had seen too much death.
"Don't put too much psychological pressure on yourself, Himeno. This kind of intervention by an existence of this level, leading to unforeseen circumstances in the mission and heavy casualties... though uncommon, it's not the first time."
"I'll help you carefully draft the report, focusing on the threat level of that unknown existence and... its demonstrated 'limited cooperation' attitude. As for the fallen comrades..."
The captain's voice lowered. "Compensation and posthumous recognition will be handled with the highest specification."
He patted Himeno's shoulder, his tone carrying a hint of helpless comfort. "This is our job. Facing incomprehensible power, just surviving is a blessing. Adjust your state as quickly as possible, because... there will likely be more tough battles ahead."
Himeno nodded silently.
Supported by the squad leader, she and the other surviving team members staggered to their feet. They began to gather their comrades' abandoned equipment, process the scene, and prepare for evacuation.
Everyone's face was filled with a heavy and complex mix of emotions from their near-death experience.
Meanwhile, Utaha, already several streets away, was walking home. Sukuna's consciousness seemed to have temporarily quieted down, having obtained a useful information channel, largely returning control of the body.
Dragging legs that felt as heavy as lead back to her relatively spacious and tidy apartment, Utaha locked the door behind her, temporarily isolating herself from the bizarre and peril-filled world outside.
The motion-sensor light in the foyer lit up with a soft glow, illuminating her delicate face, which was etched with exhaustion.
Sukuna's consciousness had long since receded like a tide, shrinking back into that mental realm of mountain-high corpses and seas of blood—a place she could not peer into, existing only on the fringes of her perception.
He was likely engrossed in studying his newly acquired 'devil-related' abilities.
Utaha could vaguely feel the restless energy within her body settle down, replaced by a weariness that seeped deep into her marrow.
She didn't even have the energy for her daily pre-sleep skincare routine. Tossing her bag onto the sofa, she headed straight for the bathroom.
As a rising star who had made a name for herself in the light novel world, her royalty income was quite substantial, allowing her to rent this apartment with a private bathroom.
At this moment, a bathtub where she could soak and relax felt like a godsend.
Warm water flowed over her body. Beneath the misty steam was a seductive physique that would drive countless perverts wild.
Her skin took on a healthy, pale pink hue from the warmth, shimmering with a pearl-like luster from the moisture.
Her tense nerves relaxed slightly. Utaha submerged herself in the water until only her nose and above remained, her eyes staring blankly at the blurred lights and shadows on the ceiling.
The hot water enveloped her skin, but it couldn't warm the chill deep in her heart.
Everything that happened today flashed through her mind like an out-of-control film reel.
"Heh..." She let out a weak, self-mocking chuckle.
Just a day ago, her biggest worries were deadlines and reader comments. Now, she had to sit in a bathtub and figure out how to 'get along' with a thousand-year-old King of Curses living inside her.
First, she had to recognize a fundamental fact: Sukuna was by no means a 'good person' in the conventional sense, nor could he be measured by modern human moral standards.
Utaha's thoughts began to clear, analyzing him with the same cold logic she used when designing character settings for her novels.
He was a 'King of Curses' from a thousand years ago, his hands stained with blood—a legendary demon god. His code of conduct was rooted in a dark age where the strong preyed on the weak and human life was treated like grass. 'Might is right' was likely his most basic tenet. To expect him to have modern concepts of human rights or compassion was nothing more than a pipe dream.
Secondly, through observation and... testing, she could determine that Sukuna was a being with a heavy sense of 'distance,' or rather, an extremely strong sense of 'personal domain.'
Utaha recalled the few times she had tried to 'direct' or 'question' him, and his blatant annoyance and warnings. He didn't allow anyone to tell him what to do, whether it was an order, a request, or a so-called 'suggestion.' All his actions, whether saving or killing, could only stem from his own will, interest, or some unfathomable 'playful mindset.'
Like today, when he stepped in to save Eriri and the people from the Exorcism Division.
It wasn't out of some sense of justice for the underdog, and certainly not because of her pleas. It was simply because, at that moment, he found it 'interesting,' or the Ghost Devil was an eyesore, or he just wanted to test his newly acquired power.
To him, it might have been like someone brushing dust off their clothes or feeding a stray cat on a whim. The result of saving lives meant nothing to him, whether the process satisfied some need of his was the key.
So, Utaha warned herself, she must never develop any unrealistic fantasies just because he occasionally, or even unintentionally, did something 'good.'
Pinning hopes on the 'kindness' of a powerhouse who had lived for over a thousand years was less practical than hoping her royalties would double on their own.
So, what was the bottom line for 'coexisting' with such a being?
Utaha reached a preliminary conclusion: keep her distance, try not to actively provoke him, don't try to interfere with his decisions.
She could be playful with him, but she couldn't push her luck. His willingness to joke around didn't mean he would be more tolerant. At the same time, she had to find every possible way to increase her value and her control over the situation.
'I don't expect him to become a good person, but at least I need to make him feel that I, the 'landlord,' still have value and am not a nuisance to be discarded at any time.'
***
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