Next morning.
The sliding door to my room rattled open without warning, waking me from a refreshing sleep.
"Hey, brat. You up?"
An uninvited guest had barged in at the crack of dawn, reeking of booze. Surprisingly, it was the current clan head, Naobito Zenin. The old man, who usually found everything a hassle and barely bothered to lift his rear, had personally graced a branch-family brat's VIP room with his presence.
I kicked off my blanket and rubbed my eyes.
"What brings the Head Geezer here?"
"The verdict on your discipline was reached yesterday. Those old snakes were throwing a goddamn fit, insisting you be thrown into the Punishment Room for two days."
Naobito plopped down on the veranda and clicked his tongue.
"They're just small fry, Grade 2 or lower, but there are so many of them that lasting two days and nights will be a pain. Well, if you really don't want to go, I'll bruise my pride and use my authority as clan head to override it."
This was unexpected. I thought Naobito would be a complete bystander, but here he was, volunteering to be my shield.
However, I let out a wide yawn and gave a dry response.
"Nah. I'll just take it. I'll go into the Punishment Room or whatever."
"...What?"
Naobito's eyebrow twitched.
"Are you deaf, brat? I just said I'd handle it for you."
"No, I said I'll take it. Why bother working so hard to cancel it? I can just use those small fry as punching bags to practice my Cursed Energy manipulation."
"You stubborn brat! When an adult offers to save you the trouble, you're supposed to say 'Thank you' and hide behind them!"
"Hide? Why would I hide! I need to set those old geezers straight at some point anyway! I said I'll handle it myself! Who knows what else they'll bitch about if I don't go!"
"Tch! Look at this insolent punk, kicking away someone's goodwill!"
A clan head nearing seventy and a fourteen-year-old brat bickered back and forth across the porch like children.
Looking back, it was a funny sight. Usually, I'd be calculating profits and losses with the utmost seriousness. But perhaps it was because I instinctively sensed that in this nauseating Zenin clan, Naobito was the only adult who was consistent and had at least a minimum of common sense. Without realizing it, I had let my guard down and was throwing a childish tantrum.
Eventually, Naobito grumbled for a while longer before waving a white flag.
"Sigh, fine, fine! Do whatever you want. You're going to the Punishment Room, but follow me first."
"Where to?"
"The family vault. I'm giving you that Grade 1 Cursed Tool I promised yesterday. Better for me to pick it out and hand it over directly before that gloomy old Elder tries any funny business."
The place I reached by following Naobito was a massive underground warehouse hidden deep within the estate.
Fitting for a prestigious family boasting hundreds of years of history, the air was thick with the suffocating scent of Cursed Energy from the tools scattered around.
Naobito walked inward without hesitation and tossed me a katana housed in a cold, black-tinted scabbard.
Thud—
The weight in my hand felt significant. The moment I gripped the handle, a sharp chill coursed through my skin.
"What's this?"
"The Cursed Blade Muramasa."
At that grand name, I let out a smirk, feeling a bit underwhelmed.
"Muramasa? The sword from the Edo period in the history books? Hey, it might be a masterpiece, but it's not a Cursed Tool, is it? Just looks like a normal sword."
"Ignorant brat."
Naobito snorted.
"All those 'Muramasas' circulating in history are merely fakes made to imitate the bloodlust of this one. That thing you're holding is the original masterpiece, a proper Grade 1 Cursed Tool that has been slumbering in the Zenin vault."
Naobito's eyes grew serious.
"The ability of that sword is very simple and destructive: it 'imbibes the user's Cursed Energy.'"
"Imbibes... Cursed Energy?"
"Yeah. If you feed your excess Cursed Energy into that sword, you can manifest energy on the blade during actual combat without consuming a single drop of your internal stores. I see you using that Domain and Reverse Cursed Technique stuff, and I can tell your legs are shaking afterward. In other words, for a brat like you with extreme energy consumption, it's the perfect personal weapon."
"...!"
My eyes widened as I partially drew the blade of the Muramasa.
With a clean shring sound, a bluish blade was revealed. When I channeled a bit of my Cursed Energy into it, the sword greedily swallowed it like a living creature and emitted a sharp pulse of power.
It was definitely a masterpiece. If I could keep this sword filled with Cursed Energy, my combat endurance would skyrocket. This was a haul that more than made up for missing out on the Inverted Spear of Heaven yesterday.
"...I'll put it to good use, Head Geezer."
"Hmph. Feed it well on those vermin in the Punishment Room."
After finishing my heartwarming(?) power struggle with Naobito, I left the vault to find a servant waiting outside, bowing deeply.
"Master Hachiro. The time has come. I will escort you to the Punishment Room."
"Right, sure. Lead the way."
I fastened the newly acquired Muramasa to my waist and hummed a tune as I followed the servant.
That gloomy old elder probably thinks he's cackling as he pushes me into hell.
'Well, I've got a sword now. Time to go chop some radishes.'
To me, the Punishment Room wasn't hell; it was just the perfect sparring ground to test my new weapon and practice my Cursed Energy manipulation.
The heavy iron door slammed shut, and the darkness of the Punishment Room swallowed me whole.
Inside the massive basement where not a single sliver of light entered, the sounds of bones clattering, flesh being mangled, and eerie, unidentifiable screams and negative gibberish crawled into my ears.
"Kieeeek! Buy a child's ticket please... chocolate please... click, clack... Today's weather is... Kyaaak! News of a triple-collision in the city center... Die, just die! Mom's not here, you're all alone now... don't push me... beep, beep... stop hitting me... @#$%&!#$!&$#"
Dozens, no, at least a hundred Cursed Spirits of Grade 2 or lower were swarming everywhere. At that horrendous noise, I furrowed my brow and dug at my ear with a finger.
"Man, so noisy. My eardrums are gonna pop. Guess that's why they call it the Punishment Room."
The physical threat wasn't the main issue. Forced to endure this maddening noise and the swamp of dank Cursed Energy for two days and nights without sleep—that was the psychological breakdown the old elder intended.
I tapped the hilt of the Cursed Blade Muramasa at my waist and scanned the surroundings.
The space was quite large. It would be a hassle and look rather undignified to go running around trying to slash every single cockroach-like spirit hiding in the corners.
"Let's do this the easy way."
I brought my hands together into a seal, pulling a blank canvas out into the world.
"Domain Expansion."
Rumble—!!
An incomplete domain, yet to be imbued with a sure-hit or lethal technique.
A barrier like pitch-black ink flowed out of my mental image, surging across the floor like water. The domain instantly painted over the walls and floor of the Punishment Room, completely enveloping it.
"Now, since you're all trapped in my territory, you'll probably get pissed and swarm me all at on—"
I had been internally hoping the Cursed Spirits would react to the pressure of my domain and rush me in a frenzy, but I stopped talking and let out a dry laugh.
"...Uh-oh."
My prediction was completely off. The Cursed Spirits, who I thought would go wild after losing control of the space, were instead crushed by the sheer weight and alien quality of my domain's Cursed Energy. They were paralyzed with terror.
The creatures shrieked and scattered to the darkest corners of the basement, huddling together in fear.
"Dammit. If they hide and tremble like that, it's even more of a pain to go find them."
I stood still, stroking my chin in thought. Was there a way to gather those scaredy-cats in the middle and sweep them all away at once?
As I observed the area, a specific group of spirits caught my eye.
Born from the fears of children at schools or playgrounds, perhaps? About half of the Grade 2 spirits were in the forms of grotesquely distorted children or were muttering in lisping, infantile voices.
'...Children, huh?'
I let out a smirk. Standing in the center of the pitch-black Punishment Room, I began to move my lips and slowly sang a song.
"Mommy goes to pick oysters... in the shade of the island...♪"
An out-of-place, sweet lullaby echoed through the dismal basement.
At that jarring sound, a child-shaped spirit hiding in the corner flinched and tilted its head. Even in its monstrous instincts, some remnant of a child searching for its mother seemed to remain; it began to drool, as if findng the sound pleasing.
"The baby is left... all alone...♪"
As my song continued, the infantile spirits hiding all over began to crawl out of the darkness one by one. Ensnared by the lullaby, they walked toward me with light steps until they were right in front of me.
By the time dozens of Cursed Spirits had gathered nicely in a circle around me...
"..."
I wiped the gentle smile from my face and spat out the next line of the song in a voice frozen cold.
"And is torn to pieces and dies."
Instantly, the air in the Punishment Room froze over.
Instead of the sweet lyrics and cozy lullaby they expected, a desperate, cruel sentence had shattered the atmosphere.
Realizing they weren't receiving the sweet comfort they desired, the child spirits' faces contorted like hideous demons.
"Waaaaah!!"
"Liar!! Mommy!!"
Enraged, dozens of Cursed Spirits unsheathed their sharp claws and lunged at me from all directions.
As I was being perfectly surrounded, I casually placed my hand on the hilt of the Muramasa.
'A normal cursed energy slash might not kill them all in one go. In that case...'
Instead of negative Cursed Energy, I flooded the blade of the Muramasa with a positive force generated through Reverse Cursed Technique. In other words, 'Positive Energy'—an absolute toxin to Cursed Spirits.
The Cursed Blade, which imbibes energy, greedily sucked up the Positive Energy and emitted a brilliant white light.
Shring—!!
In a split second, the Muramasa left its scabbard, drawing a white crescent moon in the air.
A chillingly white moon that mercilessly tore through the spirits, which were nothing more than remnants of filthy grudges.
Flash—!!
"Gi, gyaaahhhhhh!!"
Dozens of lunging Cursed Spirits were cleanly bisected by a single strike imbued with Positive Energy. White smoke billowed from the severed surfaces as their bodies dissolved into nothingness in an instant.
It was an overwhelming, one-sided slaughter.
And as they saw their kin turn to ash before their eyes, even the remaining spirits hiding in the corners were infected with that horrific combination of rage and terror.
Uwaaaaaaargh—!!
Giving up on hiding, every single Cursed Spirit left in the Punishment Room lost its sanity and began to charge at me in a mad frenzy. A tsunami of monsters filled the room, pouring down as if to bury me whole.
I lightly flicked the blood—or rather, the residue—off the Muramasa's blade and gave a satisfied smile at the approaching horde.
"Come on then."
The real punishment had begun.
"Because two days is way too short."