"Looks like that blond kid really has a thing for brutal slaughter."
Hearing the suppressed laughter behind him, White Zetsu sighed softly.
"Hey, future kid—when are you going to send that blond guy away?"
Mirai raised an eyebrow slightly. "What? Don't tell me you actually feel like taking revenge for those cursed spirits suffering?"
White Zetsu clasped his hands behind his head, walking with an arrogant, swaggering stride. He scoffed, "Even if we're technically the same kind… those low-level creatures aren't worthy of being compared to me."
Sensing White Zetsu's cursed energy level, Naobito, who was walking at the back, couldn't help but twitch his lips again.
You're only Grade Four… and you're saying that? Seriously?
White Zetsu licked his scarlet tongue, a glint of greed flashing in his eyes. "Don't you think that kid's technique is interesting?"
"A miracle-type technique, you know. Sounds pretty cool!"
His gaze burned as he looked at Mirai. "Forget about that 9527 matter—just give Haruta to me!"
After a moment, Mirai nodded.
Seeing White Zetsu's delighted expression, Mirai added in a low voice, "You can have Haruta, but you'll have to wait a bit."
"Right now, all the Zen'in clan sorcerers are busy with assignments. If you don't want to stay here and keep cutting down cursed spirits, then don't make a move for now."
White Zetsu grumbled in dissatisfaction, "Didn't you already bring this old man down here? Just let him take over the work."
Naobito: "..."
Mirai replied calmly, "He has other tasks."
Listening to the conversation between man and spirit, Naobito's gaze toward White Zetsu shifted from initial surprise to deep wariness.
What do you mean his technique is interesting… and you want it?
Having personally witnessed White Zetsu revive from a corpse, a chilling thought surfaced in Naobito's mind.
The bodies he takes over… it doesn't seem to be simple resurrection.
They passed through a long, dark tunnel.
The howls of cursed spirits behind them gradually faded, replaced by the crisp clanging of metal striking metal.
Ahead, the darkness was lit by two dim, yellow candles. Beneath the light stood a straight, motionless human figure.
The three of them walked forward slowly. Naobito was once again speechless.
What he thought was a person earlier…
Turned out, upon closer inspection, to be a lifelike plastic mannequin.
Behind it leaned a bent clothes rack, creating an eerie atmosphere. Two wooden doors on either side of the passage stood slightly ajar.
The mannequin and rack were beside the left door, and the metallic sounds came from within.
Without changing expression, Mirai pushed open the left door. The dim scene inside suddenly brightened.
"Haruta! How many times have I told you—"
"When I'm working, don't come bother me! Or I'll really chop you up and hang you like a clothes rack!"
The bald sorcerer, his back facing them, was bare-chested except for a gray apron. In his hand, a hammer repeatedly struck the forging table, sending sparks flying.
Mirai glanced faintly at the cursed tools on the workbench and spoke, "Juzo, have you finished forging the cursed tools I asked for?"
Hearing the familiar—and terrifying—voice, Juzo's hammering paused as he quickly turned around.
"Head of the Zen'in clan! Almost done, almost done!"
"Just give me seven more days—I'll definitely finish!"
Only after he turned did Naobito clearly see his face.
Thick black paint covered the area connecting his eyes and nose. On his gray apron were printed two bones.
That heavy black paint only made the fear in Juzo's eyes stand out more vividly.
Naobito wasn't surprised. Judging by his expression, this man had probably only been captured by Mirai for around two years.
As for Zen'in clan sorcerers…
After ten years…
Their bodies would still tremble instinctively, but their eyes would be as numb as machines.
Mirai's crimson eyes swept across the room. "I'll come back in seven days."
"If it's not finished, or the results aren't satisfactory—you know the consequences."
"Rest assured, Clan Head!"
When it came to forging cursed tools, Juzo's confidence returned.
"If I can't finish, I'll turn myself into a clothes rack!"
White Zetsu glanced at the nearly completed matching uniforms on the workbench and grinned.
"Iron Man, have you finished the cursed tools I asked for earlier?"
The blacksmith—nicknamed "Iron Man" by a White Zetsu—replied, "Those two little toys were done a while ago."
Originally, White Zetsu had planned to call him "Baldy," but remembering that Mirai mentioned something about school principals, he gave Juzo a new nickname.
Juzo turned and pulled out two custom-made cursed tools from behind the workbench.
A one-meter-long, razor-sharp blade gleamed coldly.
Holding it with one hand, Juzo said proudly, "Cursed tool—Dragon Bone."
"No need to talk about sharpness. The blade automatically stores the force it endures."
"According to the user's intent, that stored force can be released from the back of the blade at any time, greatly enhancing the power of the next strike!"
He placed the blade down and then took out a pink revolver with his right hand.
Gently stroking the gun, a trace of reluctance flashed in his eyes. "Cursed tool—Crimson Sun Lotus."
"It needs cursed energy stored in advance. When fired, that energy transforms into lotus-shaped bullets that strike the target."
"I modified the barrel so the bullets have a wider area of effect and stronger explosive power."
"The gun body can hold the combined cursed energy of more than five Grade One sorcerers."
After explaining its functions, Juzo said nothing about its cute color—though a hint of reluctance and grievance could be seen.
"Not bad!" White Zetsu grinned widely.
"Iron Man, your craftsmanship is impressive."
He snatched the pink revolver and fiddled with it happily.
The color, after all, had been White Zetsu 's strong request before forging.
Girls, right? No need to think—pink is the coolest.
Behind them, Naobito's eyes flashed with a hint of envy.
At first glance, he could tell these two cursed tools were prepared for the twin sisters, Maki and Mai.
It wasn't the ownership he envied—but rather…
If only Mirai treated Zen'in clan sorcerers this way…
Thinking of this, Naobito once again cursed a certain long-dead member of the Zen'in clan in his heart.
White Zetsu suddenly opened his mouth to an exaggerated extent and performed a "sword swallowing" trick on the spot.
Holding the one-meter-long blade, he shoved it straight into his mouth!
Only after the hilt disappeared completely did he wipe the blood at the corner of his mouth and raise an eyebrow at them.
The three of them twitched their lips, utterly speechless.
With his mouth stretched that wide, the cursed spirit lodged in his throat was clearly visible.
Mirai was especially exasperated—he had just given this idiot a new body, and now the corners of his mouth were already cut open by the blade.
His face was pale enough already…
With that wide grin, he looked exactly like a clown in full makeup.
"Well then, I'll leave the enchanting to you."
White Zetsu tossed the pink revolver toward Mirai with a smile.
Mirai didn't even bother catching it—pink didn't suit him.
In about a second—
With the flicker of withered branches at his shoulder, a surge of overwhelming cursed energy…
The Crimson Sun Lotus, capable of storing the power of five Grade One sorcerers—
…was fully charged.