[Absorbable Cursed Energy detected. Points +8,900]
As the "Curtain" dissolved from the sky, the scene within was revealed back to reality.
The former grain processing plant was gone, replaced by mangled metal scraps. The entire valley looked as if it had been plowed over by a hundred excavators and bulldozers; the cratered ground was littered with claw marks and deep pits.
Tucked beneath a shard of broken iron plate partially buried in the soil lay a Teru Teru Bozu doll. It remained perfectly still, even though it was face-down in the dirt, not daring to make a single sound.
"To think I'd have a trump card left—splitting my soul beforehand with a soul-dividing technique!"
The grimy doll's face wore a look of human-like, deep-seated resentment, its teeth metaphorically gritted.
"What exactly was that dead dog's origin?"
The Butcher hadn't died initially. Because the injuries from the Flesh Hound's bite were too severe, he was forced to abandon his physical flesh and anchor his soul into a Teru Teru Bozu he had crafted personally.
What he didn't realize was that this act had neutralized the Brand placed on him by the Flesh Hound; once the heart stopped and the body died, the Brand vanished.
The massive Teru Teru Bozu monster outside looked like a Vengeful Spirit formed after a curse user's death, but it was actually a manifestation of the technique the Butcher had accumulated over twenty years. All the cursed energy he had stored for decades had been expended in that fight.
When the "Cursed Spirit" was about to be disemboweled by the Nue, he had used the monster's body as cover to dive deep into the mud.
"Damn sorcerers! To push me this far..."
He could talk tough in his head, but if the Butcher had to face that young girl again, he wouldn't dare. The previous duel had obliterated his pride as a curse user. Why did a human exist who could command a Grade 1 spirit, and with such lethal swordsmanship?
The sensation of flesh being ripped open... the Butcher never wanted to experience that again.
Ever since that freak from the Gojo family appeared, life for us curse users has been hard enough. We just wanted to spread fear.
Generating disasters in front of ordinary citizens to let their personal curses absorb negative emotions was the bread and butter of curse users. The curse the Butcher bore came from a legend spanning a thousand years.
It began with a monk who was said to be able to stop continuous torrential rain by singing, which caught the attention of a certain Imperial family member. At a time when Tokyo was hit by a once-in-a-century storm, this noble found the monk, hoping his song would stop the rain.
But could the rain really be stopped by a song?
The first attempt failed. The noble, feeling cheated, ordered the monk's hands to be cut off. The second failure cost the monk his legs. By the third time, the noble didn't want to hear him sing anymore; he cut off the monk's head, wrapped it in white cloth, and hung it from the temple eaves, claiming that only then could the Heavens hear the "song" clearly.
Miraculously, the rain slowed. The nobles, delighted, believed they had found the secret to summoning sunny days.
Consequently, the eaves of the entire temple were hung with human heads wrapped in white cloth, swaying back and forth. Soon, the sky cleared. But in that temple, not a soul could be found; the vegetation grew wild. Only in the temple well could one see the severed hands and legs that filled it to the brim.
In ancient times, the whim of those in power decided lives. This was the curse the Butcher carried: "The Teru Teru Bozu stuffed with a corpse."
If everyone in the city feared the Teru Teru Bozu, that terror would strengthen the Butcher's curse, perhaps even allowing him to touch the power of that realm. Unfortunately, he fell halfway; twenty years of effort had gone up in smoke.
It was impossible not to feel resentment. The doll likely didn't notice that in its emotional turmoil, it accidentally leaked a tiny trace of cursed energy.
"What is it, Ken?"
Suppressing the combat-form Nue back into the cursed tool was clearly more taxing for Yomi Isayama than the battle itself. Her face was pale, giving her a slightly sickly appearance.
"Yomi-nee, wait for me a moment."
Kenmyo had felt something was off. That monster earlier was undoubtedly a Grade 1 spirit, yet the points he received were only 8,900. It was a full 1,100 points less than the Grade 1 spirit he had killed last time.
The one Yomi exorcised was far stronger, yet the points were lower. If he didn't know the system absorbed cursed energy directly without a middleman, he'd suspect there was a transaction fee. There was definitely something he didn't know, and that flicker of unfamiliar cursed energy confirmed his suspicion.
"If I'm not mistaken, there might be a fish that slipped through the net."
Hearing this, Yomi—despite the wasteland before her—didn't hesitate. She reached for her blade to guard the area, but a broad hand grasped her wrist, preventing her from drawing.
"Yomi-nee, you've exhausted yourself in the fight. Rest. Don't push it." Kenmyo shook his head at her. "Let me handle this. There's no need to trouble yourself with a small fry."
If the thing had any strength left, it wouldn't have passed up the chance to strike a weakened Yomi. Since it remained still, it was clearly hiding, waiting for them to leave. Being at the end of its rope, Kenmyo was confident he could handle it.
Kenmyo used the most direct method: coating his eyes with psionic energy to observe the scarred wasteland. Soon, a Teru Teru Bozu surrounded by pitch-black cursed energy appeared. Though it had minimized its presence enough to fool Yomi, it could not escape the [True-Vision Eye].
Kenmyo crouched, his palm touching the ground. Dark blue psionic energy surged into his fingertips, sparks of electricity jumping visibly. He released it into the ground all at once!
With a flash of light and a crackle, the ground before him was coated in a blue glow. The spot where the Butcher hid received Kenmyo's "special attention."
[Cursed Energy detected. Points +1,300]
Hearing this, Kenmyo knew the job was done. Once he cut the power, the area smelled of charred meat, and a thin wisp of smoke rose from where the doll had been buried.
With the Teru Teru Bozu dealt with, dark clouds gathered in the night sky. With the fall of the first drop, a torrential downpour began, quickly covering Tokyo in a deluge.
[Key-type Special Equipment detected. Do you wish to collect?]
Though surprised, Kenmyo didn't hesitate and clicked confirm. A Teru Teru Bozu icon appeared in his system inventory, occupying one slot.