Dōjigiri Yasutsuna—said to be the greatest masterpiece forged by the legendary smith Yasutsuna during the Heian era. In the hands of Minamoto no Raikō, it was used to sever the head of the demon king of Mount Ōe—Shuten-dōji—and bring about his end. From that moment on, the blade came to be known as Dōjigiri.
The blade before Tokiya Shingen was slightly longer than average—just over a meter by his estimate. The hilt was wrapped in black cord, the guard was circular with hollowed sections and intricate patterns etched into it.
The scabbard, however, was made of redwood—and gave off a peculiar feeling.
The moment Shingen grasped the sword, he sensed it.
Cursed energy.
That confirmed it—this was indeed a cursed tool.
He wrapped his hand around the hilt and slowly drew the blade.
A flash of cold light leapt into the room.
Along with it came a surge of stronger cursed energy.
So the scabbard had been suppressing its presence.
And judging from its condition, it wasn't nearly as old as the blade itself—likely crafted later by the Gen family to conceal Dōjigiri's aura.
The blade gleamed sharply, its mere presence radiating danger.
Yet—
Dark, faint brownish-black patterns crept across the surface, clashing strangely with its pristine edge, giving it an eerie, unsettling look.
"…It's definitely a fine cursed tool."
Shingen glanced at Naoto.
"You're certain they were targeting this?"
Naoto nodded, thinking back.
"That day, Grandpa brought me here to look for some books—just for fun. Then I saw this fish-like monster crawling toward the sword."
"It probably didn't expect me to see it… My attacks didn't do much, but then I remembered the sword. I drew it and cut it—and it left a huge wound before running away."
Shingen thought it through.
This didn't quite add up.
The sword had been concealed inside the scabbard, its presence masked. You wouldn't notice it unless you were right in front of it.
And this was their ancestral home—no outsiders had access.
Which meant—
The intruder had prior knowledge.
They knew about the sword.
Shingen spoke calmly.
"The enemy came prepared."
"My advice—don't keep this blade in your home."
"Either let Naoto carry it… or hand it over to the school."
"To you, it's a family heirloom. But now that a curse user is targeting it, they won't hesitate to do anything."
Masaki understood immediately.
He hesitated for a moment—but family safety came first.
After all, this room was filled with heirlooms. Armor, weapons—Dōjigiri was just the most famous.
"…Shingen, you can deal with the one hiding in the shadows, correct?"
Shingen replied without hesitation:
"If he shows himself, I can kill him instantly."
"Most curse users like this are executed anyway."
Naoto gasped softly.
"Sorcerers… kill people?"
Shingen paused, then explained:
"Normally, we only exorcise curses."
"But curse users… many of them stop being human."
"They indulge every desire until they're consumed by darkness."
"I once encountered one who tortured and murdered several innocent women."
"For people like that—death is mercy."
"We're… something like the jujutsu version of police."
"We're on the side of justice!" Naoto said firmly.
Masaki looked at her—equal parts pride and concern.
Shingen didn't elaborate further.
This job wasn't easy.
He was strong enough to handle most threats—but for weaker sorcerers, encountering a powerful curse could mean instant death.
Still—
She would have to learn that reality herself.
Once you awaken a cursed technique, your life diverges from ordinary people forever.
Even if you tried to go back—you wouldn't truly belong.
And curses didn't only target sorcerers.
Even "normal" people encountered them.
Masaki spoke again.
"Then… could you keep Dōjigiri for now?"
Shingen considered, then nodded.
"That works."
"In that case, we don't need the scabbard suppressing it anymore."
"If the enemy is still after it, I can use it as bait."
"But your security is tight—I won't stay here. Otherwise, they won't make a move."
Masaki smiled.
"I'll arrange a place for you outside."
"If you need anything, tell Riko."
Shingen placed Dōjigiri into a simple, ordinary scabbard.
Now—
Its cursed energy was far more noticeable.
Even Naoto, after standing near it for a while, began to feel uncomfortable.
"I'll take a walk nearby," Shingen said.
Naoto immediately spoke up.
"I'm coming too!"
Masaki sighed—but allowed it, on the condition that Sugihara Riko accompany them.
They left the estate.
No car—just walking.
Riko followed silently behind, almost easy to forget.
After a while, Naoto couldn't hold back.
"Shingen… aren't you curious about my technique?"
Shingen replied while guiding White Wolf to scan for residual cursed energy.
"Revealing your technique can strengthen it through a binding vow."
"But some techniques rely on secrecy. If exposed, they become weaker."
"So I don't usually ask."
Naoto thought for a moment.
"Mine might be the first type."
"I call it 'Spirit Form'."
"I can leave my body—like a ghost."
Shingen stopped.
A soul-related technique?
That was rare.
Extremely rare.
Even he had barely heard of anything similar—aside from certain curse abilities.
"…How well do you understand it?"
Naoto made a troubled face.
"Not much… I thought it was just a superpower."
"That's fine," Shingen said.
"If you enroll, someone will teach you."
They continued walking.
White Wolf found nothing unusual.
Eventually, they reached a river.
A cool breeze drifted across the water.
"Shingen… if something feels like a ghost story—does that mean it's a curse?"
Shingen looked up from his phone.
"You've encountered something like that?"
Naoto shook her head.
"No—my friend."
"She's been acting strange… scared."
Shingen considered.
"It's possible."
"Urban legends—school ghost stories—they can give rise to curses."
"She might've run into something like that."
"Has anyone died at your school? Something unusual?"
Naoto thought.
"Ghost stories, sure… every school has them."
"But deaths… I'm not sure."
"Though—I know someone who might."
Shingen looked at her.
"You're worried about your friend?"
Naoto nodded softly.
"She doesn't have many friends."
"If I don't care… no one will."
Shingen typed a quick message to Gojo.
"Then let's check your school."
"If there's a curse—we'll exorcise it."
Naoto smiled brightly.
"Thank you! You really are a hero."
"…Me too!"
Shingen stared at her.
Oh no. She's one of those…
Still—
This worked in his favor.
If a curse appeared, it might draw out the hidden enemy.
And even if not—
He could use Dōjigiri as bait.
Something about this situation felt… off.
"You don't have school?" he asked.
"I took leave!" she replied proudly.
"My principal knows my dad."
Soon, they arrived.
A prestigious private school.
Normally, Shingen—and White Wolf—wouldn't get in.
But after Riko handled things, he was allowed entry.
White Wolf stayed at the gate.
Inside—
Students filled the campus.
And surprisingly—
Almost everyone greeted Naoto warmly.
"You're popular," Shingen remarked.
Naoto blinked.
"You probably are too, right?"
Shingen shrugged.
"Half and half."
They made their way to the occult club room.
Inside, a boy with a buzz cut was narrating something dramatically.
Knock knock.
"Keisuke."
The boy turned—eyes lighting up.
"Naoto! You're back!"
After introductions, Naoto explained their purpose—carefully.
Keisuke thought for a moment.
"…There are some stories."
"You've all heard the usual ones, right? Piano sounds, mannequins, Hanako-san…"
"But there's one that stands out."
He leaned forward.
"…The legend of the thirteenth step on the staircase."