"Domain Expansion: Restless Gambler!"
Accompanied by the pulsing beat of high-energy J-Pop, Hakari Kinji didn't hesitate for a second to enact his "Binding Vow" of full disclosure.
Leveraging the most basic "Sure-Hit" effect of a Domain, the intricate rules of Restless Gambler were forcibly uploaded directly into Kenjaku's brain.
"A slot machine? A lottery with a 1/239 success rate? Guaranteed jackpot within thirty spins?"
A vein pulsed violently on Kenjaku's forehead. In over a thousand years of existence, he had never encountered a Domain so profoundly... bizarre. If he had to describe it in a single word, it would be "cluttered."
It had no lethality. No direct offensive technique. It didn't even harm the opponent. Its sole purpose was to serve as a stage for a game of chance. If Hakari hit the jackpot, he would be granted infinite cursed energy and an immortal body.
But the odds—1/239? The conditions were absurdly steep.
Even Ryu Ishigori and Uro Takako, standing on the sidelines, rolled their eyes. A 1/239 chance? You might as well have not opened the Domain at all!
"Huh? What's with those looks?" Hakari barked, catching their expressions out of the corner of his eye. "We're on the same team, aren't we? A little encouragement wouldn't kill you!"
"Tedious," was Kenjaku's blunt evaluation. He blurred forward, closing the distance to Hakari in an instant, and threw a punch weighted with malice.
BOOM!!!
At the edge of death, Hakari's instincts screamed. He flooded his abdomen with cursed energy just as Kenjaku's fist connected. He was sent spiraling back, smashing through several stone pillars before skidding to a halt.
Hakari looked down at his stomach. The wound was searing, a burning agony that defied regular healing.
"An attack targeting the soul!"
The three of them grew grim. They had been briefed on Mahito's "Idle Transfiguration." Once the soul was touched, the battle was usually over.
"Tch! No wonder he looks like that. He's completely hijacked Mahito's body!"
"Are you kidding?" Uro muttered. "I thought he could only possess humans."
Kenjaku chuckled. "If you're so curious, go ask Mahito himself in the afterlife!"
He lunged at Ryu and Uro, his right arm swelling until it was the size of a truck, slamming down like a falling building. Uro grabbed the space in front of her and yanked; the massive fist was diverted 180 degrees, swinging back toward Kenjaku's own face.
"Tch! A troublesome ability," Kenjaku grunted. The giant arm dissolved into a dense thicket of squirming tentacles, lashing out at Uro from every conceivable angle.
"Granite Blast!"
A surging cannon of cursed energy vaporized the tentacles. Kenjaku shifted his mass, his arm becoming a thick, heavy shield that braced against the impact of Ryu's blast.
"Idle Transfiguration... it really is convenient," Kenjaku said, stepping out of the smoke unscathed. He looked at the two reincarnated sorcerers with disdain. "Two ghosts I brought back to life... where did you get the courage to stand against me?"
POW!!!
A cursed energy-laden fist smashed into Kenjaku's face, making his ears ring.
Hakari burst out laughing, his knuckles bloodied. "Don't go forgetting about me!"
Kenjaku twisted his body to dissipate the force, his right hand becoming a jagged cleaver that sliced through Hakari's side, taking a massive chunk of flesh with it.
To his shock, Hakari didn't even flinch. Ignoring the fatal wound, the gambler laughed and landed another heavy blow squarely on Kenjaku's nose.
THUD!!!
This time, it was Kenjaku who was sent flying. He scrambled out of the rubble, wiping a gush of blood from his face.
While he had inherited Mahito's technique, he was an interloper; his soul didn't perfectly synchronize with the cursed spirit's body. He couldn't protect his form with the same absolute efficiency as Mahito. Physical attacks actually hurt him.
Kenjaku looked at Hakari and froze.
The wound that had nearly bisected the man was gone. Not a scar remained. He looked up at the holographic slot machine above Hakari. The icons spun frantically before clicking into place: Three '6's. A Jackpot.
On the very first spin.
Kenjaku's eye twitched. "You call that a 1/239 chance?"
Hakari let out a boisterous, manic cackle. "What can I say? I'm just that lucky!"
(I'm certainly not telling you that I cheated the odds!)
Now, with infinite cursed energy and an immortal body, Hakari abandoned all caution. He charged Kenjaku like a wild beast.
Kenjaku's interest was piqued. He met the charge head-on, his hands shifting into razor-sharp scythes. He hacked and slashed at Hakari, sendings bits of flesh and blood flying into the air.
Hakari didn't care. He grabbed Kenjaku by the head and began a brutal, rhythmic pummeling. His own wounds—some deep enough to expose bone and organs—healed instantly. His Reverse Cursed Technique, fueled by the infinite overflow, operated automatically and without cooldown.
The rate of his regeneration was faster than the rate of Kenjaku's damage.
"Idle Transfiguration!"
Kenjaku slammed his hand onto Hakari's chest, only for his face to contort in frustration.
Hakari couldn't perceive his own soul, but he didn't need to. He simply used his inexhaustible supply of cursed energy to coat his soul and body in a layer of protection so dense it was practically an armored shell.
With infinite energy, he could afford to be as wasteful as he wanted.
Kenjaku's expression soured. What kind of freakish fighting style is this?
His martial arts were average, his cursed energy control was crude, and even his Domain was as garish as his personality. Yet, this reckless, unga-bunga style of combat was proving incredibly difficult to manage.
"Thin Ice Breaker!"
"Granite Blast!"
While Kenjaku was preoccupied with the immortal brawler, two massive energy attacks slammed into his back!
BOOM!!!
Kenjaku's arm-shield absorbed some of the impact, but he was still sent skidding across the hall.
"Haha! This is it!" Hakari shouted, tearing off his shredded shirt to reveal corded muscles. "This fever is incredible! I'm taking off!"
He was back in Kenjaku's face in an instant, fist raised high.
"Enough!" Kenjaku roared.
Incredible fever? He felt nothing but irritation. In his eyes, Hakari was full of openings, yet the man used sheer quantity to overwhelm quality. To a master like Kenjaku, this was a vulgar way to fight.
He checked the time. The four minutes and eleven seconds were nearly up. The Domain would collapse, and the invincibility would fade. When that happened, he would tear this gambler limb from limb.
Bang! Crash! Thud!
Using his vast experience and the fluidity of Idle Transfiguration, Kenjaku weathered the three-way assault. Finally, the timer hit zero.
Hakari's titanic cursed energy signature flatlined. The neon lights and the music of the Domain shattered.
Kenjaku's killing intent flared. He glared at Hakari with predatory eyes. "I'm going to slaughter you."
"Domain Expansion: Womb Profusion!"
Seeing the move, Ryu and Uro immediately began weaving their own seals.
"Domain Expansion: Rolling Gear!"
"Domain Expansion: Sunlit Emptiness!"
But Hakari was faster. He laughed, his hands moving into the familiar mudra.
This was his trump card: because his technique was so focused on the Domain itself, he didn't suffer from a significant technique burnout. As long as he had the energy, he could chain them indefinitely.
"Domain Expansion: Restless Gambler!"
Kenjaku's eye jumped. He stared at the holographic slot machine above them.
Click. Click. Click.
The first reel: Heroine. The second reel: Heroine.
Kenjaku's mouth hung open as he began to curse. "Motherf—"
The third reel: Hero.
Kenjaku swallowed his insult. Thank God.
I knew it! Even with luck like that, there's no way this kid can hit the jackpot twice in a row!
Read The Full Story at: Patreon.com/zefyrus