The original owner's running instinct, honed by years of being bullied, coupled with the lightness of Cursed Energy flowing through his limbs and bones, allowed Rin to sweep through the chaotic crowd like a gust of wind.
The cries of students and the roars of Cursed Spirits behind him were quickly left far behind. When he finally stopped, an abandoned warehouse leaning against the perimeter wall appeared before him—its grey tin roof was mottled with rust.
Back against the corner, he first poked his head out to scan the warehouse's surroundings. After confirming no Cursed Spirits were chasing him and no panicked students had noticed this corner, his tense shoulders finally relaxed slightly.
Turning to look at the perimeter wall just inches away, above the two-meter-high top of the wall, a pale black [Veil] hung like a layer of congealed mist, completely isolating the campus from the outside world.
Rin knew that even if he climbed the wall, he couldn't break through this jujutsu barrier. Nevertheless, he still climbed up the gap between the warehouse and the perimeter wall—the brick crevices, repeatedly stepped upon, had long been worn smooth. It was clear the original owner had climbed here countless times to hide.
The [Veil] right before his eyes rippled with faint fluctuations of Cursed Energy, like a patch of cold, stagnant water. Rin didn't even have the interest to spare it a second glance, quickly circling along the top of the wall to the back of the warehouse.
This was where the original owner's greatest secret lay. The warehouse didn't sit completely flush against the perimeter wall, leaving a triangular mezzanine. The other side was blocked by a half-collapsed brick wall, just enough to fit seven or eight people, yet hidden like a corner forgotten by the world.
Without the slightest hesitation, Rin leaped inside.
When he landed, his soles touched level soil—it had clearly been meticulously swept. In the corner sat an old scavenged wooden chair, its legs reinforced with wire; beside it were a few dog-eared manga books and a plastic bottle half-filled with water. These were all the "belongings" the original owner had secretly hoarded.
This fragment of the original owner's memory suddenly surged into his mind, causing Rin's movements to pause.
He remembered that after the original owner's parents died, he was sent to Japan to seek refuge with his uncle, only to be treated as a "freak" because he could see Cursed Spirits. When he resisted being bullied at school, it instead resulted in his uncle's family paying compensation, which earned him an indiscriminate, brutal beating.
Over time, the original owner didn't dare go home, nor did he dare go near his classmates. He could only hide in this mezzanine, treating the scavenged junk as comfort—this wasn't some "secret base," but the only "little home" in this world where the original owner could catch his breath.
"Sorry, I'm borrowing your place to hide," Rin whispered softly, leaning over to pull out an iron rod from the corner.
The iron rod was a full meter long, its surface covered in thick rust, yet it was exceptionally sturdy. It was a self-defense weapon the original owner had specifically hidden here for fear of being bullied again. Gripping the cold iron rod, its solid weight slightly steadied his frantic emotions.
Just then, a series of messy footsteps came from outside the perimeter wall, scattered and sparse, belonging to perhaps a dozen people.
Rin raised an eyebrow. He didn't even need to think to know it was students who had discovered they couldn't break through the [Veil] and had turned to hide in the warehouse for safety.
Sure enough, a second later, he heard the old tin door of the warehouse let out a "creak" of mourning, followed by the noisy clamor of a crowd rushing in. Finally, there was the "bang" of the door closing and the "clatter" of chains being wound; they had locked the warehouse tight.
Rin ignored the commotion inside the warehouse. Sitting on the old wooden chair and gripping the iron rod, he began to sort out the current situation: the campus under the [Veil] had become a cage, with hundreds of Cursed Spirits carrying out a massacre inside. The mastermind was most likely Geto Suguru.
But he couldn't understand it. Geto Suguru's goal was to "eliminate Non-Sorcerers to sever the source of Cursed Spirits." Using low-level Cursed Spirits for a massacre was too inefficient and easily exposed his movements; it didn't fit his usual style of operation.
"Unless... he has other designs?" Rin furrowed his brows tightly.
His current position was indeed safe, but this safety was built on the premise that "there are other students to attract the Cursed Spirits' attention." Once all the students in the school were slaughtered and he was the only survivor left, even the most hidden corner wouldn't keep him concealed. Geto Suguru or the Cursed Spirits would find him sooner or later.
His only hope now was either for Geto Suguru to end the "experiment" and leave early, or for the people from Jujutsu High to break through the [Veil] and provide support in time.
As for relying on himself to face Geto Suguru? Rin laughed self-deprecatingly. Even with the Sharingan as a cheat, he was currently just a "half-baked" amateur who had only just awakened Cursed Energy.
He remembered the Sharingan's abilities clearly: the One Tomoe could only provide Insight into trajectories, the Two Tomoe could copy movements, and only the Three Tomoe unlocked Genjutsu. Moreover, they all required coordination with Taijutsu or Ninjutsu to be effective.
But he had never practiced Taijutsu, let alone Ninjutsu, and hadn't even mastered the most basic Cursed Techniques. Even if he could unlock the Two Tomoe in the future, who could guarantee the Sharingan could copy Cursed Techniques? Ninjutsu was the application of chakra, while Cursed Techniques were Cursed Energy transformed from negative emotions; the two weren't even the same system.
Thinking of this, Rin couldn't help but sigh, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the iron rod. He didn't notice that on the tiles of the warehouse roof, two figures were looking down at him from above—it was Geto Suguru and Miguel.
"Is this kid's Cursed Technique that of a rat? To think he'd hide so discreetly," Miguel said, wearing sunglasses, his tone full of interest. "If we hadn't locked onto his Cursed Energy fluctuations in advance, I'm afraid he really would have slipped away."
Geto Suguru's expression, however, was somewhat gloomy. His gaze swept over the old wooden chair, manga books, and plastic bottle in the corner. His voice was low: "Looking at the setup here, he must come often. Combined with his proficiency in running away just now... this child is likely bullied often at school."
He already had a plan in mind. The arranged Cursed Spirit was almost there; once Rin fell into danger, he would step in to save him. This would allow him to quickly close the distance with Rin and naturally inquire about his situation. If Rin's life was indeed miserable, it would be the perfect time to bring him into the ranks of his "family."
Miguel watched Geto Suguru's contemplative look from the side and instantly understood his plan, unable to help but smile bitterly.
Geto Suguru and that child had only just met, yet because the child was a Jujutsu Sorcerer, Geto was already so concerned—worrying about him being bullied and worrying about his poor living conditions.
He had to marvel; this was Geto Suguru. Right now, students were being killed every moment in the school, yet he was here worrying if that kid had been bullied. Was the gap in his treatment of ordinary people and Jujutsu Sorcerers really this large?
Just then, outside the brick wall at the back of the warehouse, a hunched figure was slowly approaching—it was exactly that low-level Cursed Spirit arranged by Geto Suguru. Only a half-collapsed brick wall separated it from Rin.
Rin suddenly looked up, his back instantly tensing. A cold surge of Cursed Energy was rapidly approaching, wrapping around his nerves like a venomous snake. Along with it came intense negative emotions—despair, resentment, pain—pressing down in layers, almost making it hard for him to breathe.
"A Cursed Spirit?" Rin immediately circulated the Cursed Energy within his body, forming a thin barrier around himself. With the negative emotions isolated, he quickly calmed down, his gaze locking onto the gap in the brick wall he had climbed through earlier.
A sharp claw, wrapped in yellowed bandages, was slowly reaching through the gap.
The skin beneath the bandages was a deathly grey, with dark red bloodstains clinging to the fingernails. Next, the Cursed Spirit's head poked in—it was a humanoid Cursed Spirit, its entire body draped in loose bandages, but its abdomen was split open by a massive vertical gash like a wide-open mouth. Through the gaps in the bandages, rows of densely packed, sharp teeth were clearly visible inside.
"Save me... why won't you save me..."
Pitiful whispers emanated from that crack, a mix of voices from men, women, the young, and the old, sounding like dozens of vengeful spirits shrieking at once, making one's eardrums go numb.
The Cursed Spirit moved extremely fast. In the blink of an eye, it had flipped entirely into the mezzanine, clinging to the wall like a gecko. Its green eyes stared fixedly at the iron rod in Rin's hand, the abdominal crack opening and closing slightly as saliva dripped onto the ground.
Rin gripped the iron rod tight. He knew there was no avoiding this.