The ornate purple kukri was blocked out of thin air. It was as if a wall had manifested in the atmosphere. It was exactly like before, when he had blocked the woman's sudden strike against Felt.
Although it wasn't the first time Felt and Subaru Natsuki had witnessed this scene, seeing it again still sent a shock through their hearts. As for Old Man Rom, who was seeing it for the first time, his eyes were wide enough to swallow someone whole.
Satoru Gojo continued his warm-up as if no one else were there, while the woman remained silent, launching a continuous barrage of attacks from every conceivable angle. Yet, whether it was from above, below, or aimed at his vitals, it was utterly futile. Her attacks—the blade in her hand—simply could not breach that layer of invisible air to harm even a hair on Satoru's head.
After more than a dozen consecutive slashes, the woman halted her movements.
"Hmm... no ripple of Mana, and it doesn't seem like magic. It looks like some kind of peculiar Divine Protection," she remarked. She didn't continue the assault but stood in place, looking at Satoru with genuine interest.
"A Divine Protection?" Satoru looked up with a smile and said candidly, "Wrong~"
"Is that so?" The woman's pupils constricted. Her originally seductive expression turned faintly morbid, as if she had seen something that filled her with manic excitement. "Then that's even more wonderful!"
With that, the woman's figure lunged forward again. A flash of brilliant white light streaked from her hand.
"Oh? Swapping blades? That looks quite vicious," Satoru remarked casually, adjusting his sunglasses.
The ornate, jagged purple kukri was gone. In its place was a thick short-sword, nearly as wide as the woman's waist, resembling a butcher's cleaver used for hacking bone. Just from the sound of the blade cutting through the air, one could tell that compared to the previous kukri, the power behind this was on a completely different level.
"Speaking of which, I'm just about done warming up. Let me get a good feel for your strength then." Satoru's voice dropped as the last word fell. "Please... don't disappoint me."
Suddenly, the woman felt as if the air wall she had encountered during her previous attacks had vanished. Her blade hacked toward him without hindrance.
However, in the absence of the invisible barrier, what awaited her was Satoru Gojo taking the initiative to attack.
Clang!
The blade whistled past Satoru's body, hitting only air. The woman slammed her left foot into the ground, her body sliding sideways like an arrow leaving a bow. Her other hand silently drew a purple kukri from her waist, thrusting it toward his side. Her movements were fluid and seamless, each strike precisely aimed at a lethal point, a sight that made the heart race with fear.
Yet Satoru maintained that same casual, lazy demeanor, as if he didn't care about the fatal attacks at all. He even had the leisure to offer lighthearted pointers: "Nice moves. Pity, though—no matter how fast the blade is, it's useless if you can't touch the person."
With a perfectly timed sidestep, Satoru avoided the strike with effortless grace. In the opening between her attacks, he suddenly threw a punch.
Bam!
The woman reacted with extreme speed, crossing her arms in front of her and using the flat of the cleaver to block Satoru's fist. But the terrifying force transmitted through the blade was far beyond her expectations. It directly carried her backward, slamming her hard against the far end.
Boom!
The woman's figure flew back, crashing into the wall and overturning a pile of junk, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Speed is at Special Grade level, but power is quite a bit lacking, Satoru evaluated silently, looking toward the direction she had been thrown.
Clearing the debt was just a casual joke. What truly interested him were the abilities possessed by the powerhouses of this world. Until now, this woman had only been fighting with her physical body, without utilizing any special powers. It was truly curious, and he couldn't wait to investigate.
Whish! Whish!
Faint whistling sounds rang through the air. Satoru let out a yawn and reached out, casually snatching something from the air. Two needle-thin spikes, as long as chopsticks and incredibly sharp, appeared in his hand.
"Needles? Quite a rare weapon."
The moment Satoru caught the needles, the dust was blown away. The woman, completely unharmed, had already charged in front of him, swinging a slash. Satoru shook his head and, with even greater speed, slapped the woman's wrist, causing her slash to lose its aim. Simultaneously, his other hand reached out directly to grab her throat.
The woman reacted instantly; her bone-cleaving sword hacked toward his arm, but that invisible force reappeared to block it all.
"Heh."
Satoru easily squeezed the woman's slender neck. With a gentle application of force, he spun her around, pulling her into his embrace so she was facing away from him.
"Strange aura. You seem to have a very interesting power inside your body." Satoru lowered his sunglasses slightly, observing the woman's body at extreme proximity. His eyes seemed capable of penetrating her pale skin to see directly into her depths.
Feeling the breath from behind her and the warmth of the hand on her neck, the woman's breathing quickened slightly. An abnormal flush appeared on her face, and then...
Squelch!
The long blade of the purple kukri in the woman's hand was driven straight into her own abdomen, her hand even submerging into the wound. At such close range, the blade pierced through her body and emerged from her lower back, thrusting straight toward Satoru.
Satoru, who was observing the strange power within her, merely glanced down with a dull gaze, then looked as if he had discovered something fascinating.
"I see." Those icy blue eyes, which seemed to contain the entire sky, flashed with a peculiar light. "You are actually quite similar to a Cursed Spirit."
As he spoke, the woman felt the hand on her neck loosen slightly. She seized the chance to wrench herself free, completely ignoring the wound in her stomach or the fact that a knife was still lodged there. With a flash of movement, she put distance between herself and Satoru.
Then, without hesitation, she pulled the kukri directly out of her own gut. Thick blood erupted, mixed with fragments of internal organs, falling to the floor and filling the air with a pungent, metallic stench. To any other human, such a severe wound would mean certain death. Yet this woman acted as if she hadn't been injured at all, her fighting stance completely unaffected.