Chapter 29

"What should I do..."

Suguru Geto furrowed his brows, thinking calmly while summoning Hachishakusama.

Standing over two meters tall, the cursed spirit stood a shoulder's breadth above Geto. It possessed the appearance of a human female with sickly, greyish-blue skin, malformed limbs, and wore a tattered white dress topped with a pale, sun-bleached hat. Its eye sockets were hollow, devoid of eyeballs, while a vibrant red mouth was stretched into a wide, eerie grin. In its hands, it clutched a pair of old, rusted shears.

The archetype for Hachishakusama originated from a famous Japanese urban legend, which claimed the spirit would mimic the voices of a victim's relatives to lower their guard, with those ensnared typically meeting their demise within days. Its abilities included teleportation, flight, vocal mimicry, mental manipulation, hair control, curses, high-speed movement surpassing that of a car, and immense physical strength. Geto had nearly lost his life when he first encountered it, but after subjugating it, Hachishakusama had become one of his trump cards.

His mind whirring, Geto said in a low voice, "Fyodor, in a moment—"

Before he could finish, he caught a glimpse of a dark figure collapsing out of the corner of his eye, followed a second later by a soft thud. Geto froze, then turned to see the homeowner lying peacefully on the floor, snoring within two seconds. His gaze fell upon the man's dark, heavy bags under his eyes; he conceded that the man must have been exhausted to the point of collapse.

However...

"Fyodor, what are you doing?" Geto asked.

"Preventing him from being a liability," the dark-haired youth replied.

The main reason, though, was to see if it might be Kenjaku. He had joined the technical college to build rapport with the protagonists for future maneuvers—like playing the emotional card or inciting defection. Furthermore, Kenjaku was certainly lurking in some dark corner, observing them; if he could catch Kenjaku early, it would be a massive windfall.

It seemed now, however...

Fyodor lowered his eyelashes, his gaze fixed on the homeowner's face. It probably wasn't Kenjaku.

Geto looked at Fyodor with a complicated expression but ultimately said nothing, turning instead to the situation at hand. "The low-level curses I released have vanished; they must have been killed. The cursed spirit is definitely in this room. Don't stray too far from me; we've been dragged into its domain, and this is its home turf. Regardless, I’ll try to see if my own cursed spirit can manifest its domain to carve out a safe zone."

***

A hazy red light filtered into the living room from the windows.

This was Fyodor's first encounter with a domain; he felt little sense of crisis, feeling instead a restless urge to investigate. He observed his surroundings, eventually letting his gaze settle on the outside through the glass.

It was as if the world had been layered with a red filter.

The white clouds were stained crimson, like cotton soaked in blood. The sky was foggy and indistinct, resembling frosted glass; distant scenery appeared blurred and hazy. The red light washed over the flowerbeds, turning even the greenery—usually a symbol of life—into an eerie shade. The entire world felt suffocated under a shroud of blood-red horror.

Without warning, a light drizzle began to fall from the sky, connecting into a fine curtain of beads. His skin grew damp, and the air filled with the distinct scent of rain.

Suddenly, a cold droplet struck Fyodor's cheek. More rain followed, materializing out of thin air and surrounding Geto and Fyodor.

"This is the effect of Hachishakusama's domain. There is good news and bad news," Geto said.

"And the good news is?"

"Hachishakusama's domain works."

"The bad news?"

"The range is small, and it seems to have provoked the enemy."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a loud bang echoed through the room. The door that had just been locked exploded outward, drenching Geto in gore. The sudden, overwhelming stench of blood nearly suffocated him, and his stomach churned violently.

Fyodor fared much better, having instinctively ducked behind Geto the moment the door burst.

"It's here!" Geto's focus was entirely on the enemy, leaving him oblivious to Fyodor's quick movements.

A thick, rotten stench suddenly permeated the air, mixing with the metallic smell of blood, enough to make one's vision swim. Amidst the tense atmosphere, a dark shadow slowly emerged from the room.

It stood about five feet tall with a towering, bulbous skull and thick, heavy earlobes that hung down to its chest. Its upper body was bare; its belly was round, yet the skin hung loose, with rolls of fat completely covering its hips. In contrast, its legs were as thin as chopsticks, with translucent skin stretched over jagged bones—it was hard to imagine how they supported the heavy torso.

On its back grew a massive, pulsating tumor with clearly visible blood vessels, from which several slender arms flailed in a way that induced physical discomfort. Yet, the creature's face bore a look of profound compassion.

Geto tensed every muscle in his body, his sense of crisis peaking. He shouted sharply, "Hachishakusama!"

The tall cursed spirit, which had been standing quietly by his side, raised its rusted iron shears. Its figure vanished, only to reappear before the enemy, plunging the shears toward the creature's face.

At the same moment, Geto and Fyodor felt a wave of dizziness; the surrounding scene twisted, rotated, and merged. Only the cursed spirit remained unchanged. Its kindly smile, reminiscent of a Maitreya Buddha, gradually lulled the two into dropping their guard, their eyes turning hollow.

Without Geto's command, Hachishakusama vanished just before it could strike the enemy, taking its domain along with it.

The rain stopped.

The smile on the Buddha-like cursed spirit deepened. It walked unhurriedly toward the two humans, stretching out a hand to deal with Geto first, but then its gaze shifted, landing on Fyodor behind him. For some reason, the spirit bypassed Geto, its hand passing him by without pause, reaching straight for Fyodor.

When its fingers were a mere five centimeters from Fyodor, a hand suddenly seized the spirit's wrist, gripping it like a steel clamp and preventing it from moving an inch closer.

"Hmm?" A puzzled murmur sounded from above.

The Buddha-like spirit paused, looking up at its prey's face, only to meet eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment.

"?" The spirit was stunned.

This human had clearly been under its mental control—how was he awake?

"A dream...?"

The prey's murmur pulled the spirit from its confusion. A glint of murderous intent flashed in its eyes, and the multiple arms growing from the tumor on its back reached toward Fyodor.

It wasn't limited to just two hands.

Just as the other arms were about to touch Fyodor, the spirit suddenly felt an agonizing pain, and its body collapsed to the ground, beyond its control. In disbelief, the spirit struggled, using its final ounce of strength to look up along the human's legs, only to be met by the dark, abyssal violet eyes of the black-haired youth.