Tokiya Shingen had successfully drawn the curse away from that place steeped in fear.
The bad news—
he had also moved beyond the barrier.
The barrier set earlier had mainly been meant to block ordinary civilians. It didn't restrict sorcerers much, which meant—
while luring the curse out—
he had inevitably smashed a hole through it.
At this rate, the barrier wouldn't hold for long.
Fortunately—
the battlefield Shingen had chosen lay deep in a stretch of wilderness.
No roads.
No people.
The chance of civilians witnessing what was about to happen—
was minimal.
"Absorbing fear, huh? Pretty strong ability…"
Shingen rolled his shoulder slightly, staring at the curse.
"Too bad there's no fear here for you to feed on."
"If you fed on anger instead…"
He paused.
"Ah, whatever."
"Either way—you're dead today."
"Not even Jesus can save you."
"I said so."
His right hand tightened slightly in midair.
A pale blue surge of cursed energy gathered—
compressing—
twisting—
Until it formed a short spear-like construct.
Its color shifted.
From blue—
to white.
At a glance, it looked like a mass of drifting mist or cloud—
constantly flowing within his grasp.
This—
was a new experiment.
Shingen's technique had always enhanced speed—
making attacks difficult to defend against.
But fundamentally—
its power still depended on his cursed energy output.
So he had asked himself—
What if the technique itself could be projected outward?
Not to accelerate the enemy directly—
though that was theoretically possible.
Accelerating a target could mean accelerating their lifespan—
but at his current level, that wasn't a reliable offensive method.
Instead—
he explored a different approach:
Combine technique with attack.
Upon impact—
accelerate the spread of damage.
Accelerate the collapse of the enemy's body.
A delayed destruction—
forced to occur instantly.
He had spent a long time refining this idea—
even discussing it with Satoru Gojo.
With the help of the Six Eyes—
progress had been much faster.
Though—
he still hadn't mastered it.
The form was unstable.
But usable.
Shingen took a throwing stance—
Then—
The world skipped.
The spear crossed time itself—
and slammed into the curse.
The impact staggered it.
Chunks of flesh exploded outward—
but what fell to the ground—
was already withered.
Decayed.
The damage—
far exceeded expectations.
A nearly one-meter-long wound tore across its body—
and the surrounding flesh had already reached the brink of "death."
Normally—
a curse with its reserves should have begun regenerating instantly.
But not this one.
The wound twitched—
barely.
Because something else was happening.
The foreign cursed energy—
had invaded its body.
Like removing the foundation of a structure—
collapse spread instantly.
No process.
Only result.
Its body couldn't keep up.
By the time it reacted—
the damage had already run its course.
Shingen watched as the curse's body swelled again—
split open—
revealing clusters of eyes within the cracks.
Then—
Black beams fired wildly toward him.
He blocked the first—
at significant cost.
Then vanished into the smoke.
Another spear formed—
technique fused once more.
This works…
Shingen thought as the attack struck again.
Applying the technique to a defined concept—
causing only negative effects on the target…
He smirked slightly.
"Let's call it…"
"Arrow of Time."
Why arrow, not spear?
Didn't matter.
He could shape it into arrows just as easily.
Blades or other forms—
weren't as practical.
Raising his left hand—
drawing back his right like a bow—
Three slender arrows formed.
With a thought—
they fired.
They pierced the curse's body simultaneously.
Before they could detonate—
two more waves followed.
The curse's counterattacks collapsed into chaos—
beams scattering wildly into the sky.
Unable to track Shingen—
it resorted to indiscriminate destruction.
But every attempt—
was disrupted.
Wave after wave—
"Arrow of Time" tore it apart.
Its body became a ruin.
And here—
with no fear to feed on—
it had no way to recover.
Every attempt to flee—
failed.
Shingen's cursed energy still surged—
but his mind was exhausted.
Blood streaked his face—
whether his own—
or the curse's—
he couldn't tell anymore.
"…Time to end this."
The curse—
now missing three of its arm-like limbs—
was barely holding together.
Shingen activated his technique once more—
and closed the distance.
His fists hammered into the exposed cluster of eyes—
like crushing a jar of grapes.
Black light flashed.
Wet, cracking sounds echoed.
Then—
silence.
The curse's body collapsed—
turning to ash.
Exorcised.
Shingen finally exhaled.
The fight had been short—
but intense.
His worst injury—
came earlier—
when he tried to reverse time on the victims.
He had pushed past his limits.
The rest—
was fatigue from repeated technique reversals—
and testing his new ability.
Turning back—
the barrier had nearly dissipated.
With enough cursed energy remaining—
Shingen used his technique—
and returned instantly to the main building.
The victims had been freed.
Their faces—
a mix of disbelief—
relief—
and fragile hope.
Like a living painting.
Shingen didn't linger.
He headed straight to the top floor.
There—
he found Kento Nanami.
And a group of captives.
Thirteen in total.
Twelve men.
One woman.
Shingen appeared suddenly.
Several people gasped.
Nanami turned sharply—
weapon raised—
then relaxed.
"You're back."
"You handled it?"
Shingen nodded.
"It's exorcised."
"My technique is speed-based, after all."
"Thanks for the concern."
Nanami's gaze softened.
"Good work."
"With this mission—your Grade 1 promotion should be secured."
But Shingen didn't smile.
He pointed at the bound criminals.
"What happens to them?"
Nanami paused.
Images flashed in his mind—
the horrors they had seen.
"They'll be arrested."
"The ringleaders may face execution."
"The rest—depends on the court."
Shingen's expression remained cold.
Blood staining his face—
he looked more like a killer than a savior.
Nanami's tone hardened slightly.
"Someone will judge them."
"You must not kill them."
What he didn't say—
was just as important.
If Shingen acted—
if his cursed energy residue was traced—
the higher-ups would pounce.
Relentlessly.
Shingen smiled faintly.
"I know."
"I'm not that stupid."
"Let's take them down."
"Then call the police."
He tied the ropes together—
and began dragging them.
Bodies slammed against the floor—
down the stairs—
banging—
bleeding—
unable to stand.
By the time they reached the first floor—
the victims were already gathered.
They had tried to escape—
only to be blocked by an invisible wall.
So they waited.
And then—
they saw them.
Their captors—
dragged like animals.
Whispers spread.
Shingen tossed the rope aside—
stretched—
and turned to Nanami.
"This place is filthy."
"Let's wait outside."
"Our job's done, right?"
Nanami glanced around—
at the victims—
their fear shifting into anger.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
"Work hours are over."
"I already called the police."
"They'll be here in about three minutes."
They walked out—
ignoring the desperate cries behind them.
The door closed.
The screams—
cut off.
Nanami spoke quietly:
"Even if we're not directly responsible…"
"There'll still be consequences."
Shingen shrugged.
"Let Gojo-sensei deal with that."
"I'm hungry."
"Let's grab food—and a drink."
Nanami didn't even look at him.
"You're underage."
"Juice only."