As the Curtain descended, the already gloomy children’s hospital became even darker.
It was as if someone had thrown a tinted filter over the sky.
Even the sunlight, which should have brought some warmth to the abandoned building, seemed cold and lifeless beneath the oppressive barrier.
Sherlock took a deep breath.
He pulled Sayafushi from its sword bag, tightened his grip around the hilt, and stepped into the hospital.
The interior was even darker than the outside.
It looked like the set of a horror movie, the kind of place where every shadow seemed deliberately positioned to make you uncomfortable.
More importantly, traces of cursed energy were everywhere.
The cold, unpleasant residue unique to curses coated almost the entire corridor.
Sherlock moved carefully.
His eyes constantly swept across the doors, ceiling, corners, and intersections ahead.
The atmosphere gave him the unpleasant feeling that something could leap out at him at any moment.
He searched the first floor.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Sherlock continued upward, checking every room and hallway until he eventually reached the top floor.
Yet something was wrong.
He had found plenty of cursed energy residue.
But not a single curse.
Not even a weak one.
That made Sherlock increasingly uneasy.
Based on everything he’d learned so far, there was something deeply wrong with this abandoned hospital.
The first problem was the cursed energy.
There was far too much residue concentrated inside the building.
Yet since entering, Sherlock hadn’t encountered so much as a single minor curse.
Then there was the target itself.
A Grade 2 curse should possess at least some intelligence, but normally not enough to hide so thoroughly that Sherlock could search the entire building from bottom to top without seeing even a glimpse of it.
Neither possibility felt reassuring.
And this cramped environment wasn’t exactly ideal for him, either.
Sayafushi was his only real offensive weapon, and a katana was much harder to use freely inside narrow hospital corridors.
By the time Sherlock finished searching the building once, his nerves were stretched tight.
There were only two explanations he could think of.
Either someone had already exorcised the curse…
Or the curse here wasn’t Grade 2 at all.
Neither was good news.
Standing before the door leading to the rooftop, Sherlock took a long breath.
Then he turned around.
Rather than step outside, he headed back into the corridor and began searching the hospital again.
What Sherlock didn’t see was the figure crouched on top of the rooftop access structure directly above him.
It watched him turn away.
Almost as though disappointed that its prey hadn’t walked into the open.
“Tch.” The figure dropped down from above the doorway.
It began creeping along the outer wall, apparently planning to circle around and toy with him.
Then…
A cursed-energy-coated katana suddenly stabbed straight through the rooftop door.
The blade buried itself cleanly into the curse’s chest.
At almost the exact same moment, the boy it had considered prey appeared directly in front of it.
Sherlock seized the sword’s hilt.
He had already suspected something when his first sweep of the building failed to locate the curse.
The rooftop was the most obvious place for an intelligent target to hide and wait for an ambush.
Sherlock hadn’t had enough information to be certain.
So he’d simply tested the possibility.
He hadn’t expected his guess to be dead on.
The instant his fingers closed around Sayafushi, Sherlock didn’t even bother getting a proper look at the curse.
He twisted the blade and slashed sideways, intending to cut straight through its torso.
The curse reacted fast.
Just before the blade could tear across its waist, it kicked Sherlock hard enough to send him flying.
Thanks to nearly half a month of Gojo’s hellish training, Sherlock no longer panicked when taking a hit.
He reinforced his body with cursed energy, used Sayafushi against the ground to bleed off some of his momentum, and rolled several times before regaining his footing.
The distance between them opened.
Only then did Sherlock finally get a clear look at his opponent.
And for a moment…
He genuinely didn’t know what to say.
Compared with nearly every other curse Sherlock had ever seen, this one was disturbingly close to attractive.
It wore the remains of an old nurse’s uniform, although the torn fabric had left it looking more like a twisted costume than actual medical clothing.
Its long legs were exposed beneath the damaged skirt, pale skin broken by thick lines of stitches running across the flesh.
Its proportions were unnervingly human.
Almost too human.
A narrow waist.
Long limbs.
A figure that, from the neck down, could easily have passed for an exaggerated character design from some late-night anime.
Then Sherlock looked at its head.
Any trace of appreciation vanished instantly.
Calling that thing a head was generous.
It looked more like a mass of medical equipment and malformed flesh fused together.
Syringes.
Tubing.
Scissors.
Masks.
Fragments of surgical instruments.
And packed into every gap were eyes.
Dozens of them.
Different sizes.
Different shapes.
All staring at Sherlock.
The grotesque head completely ruined whatever illusion of humanity the body had created.
His initial surprise lasted only a second.
Then fear settled in.
Deep, instinctive fear.
Because Sherlock immediately realized something.
This thing was definitely not Grade 2.
Its movements were too controlled.
Its reactions were too sharp.
And those countless eyes weren’t staring at him with mindless hunger.
There was intelligence behind them.
Amusement.
Cold sweat soaked Sherlock’s back almost immediately.
Even Sayafushi trembled slightly in his hands.
Inside his head, he was already cursing the higher-ups with every insult he could think of.
He’d been set up.
There was no other reasonable explanation.
Run?
Sherlock considered it for only a moment.
Too risky.
If someone had deliberately arranged this mission, then they had probably prepared for the possibility of him escaping.
And Sherlock had another reason not to flee.
He didn’t want to reveal the greatest advantage of Flying Thunder God.
Bypassing Infinity wasn’t the true secret of his technique.
Its real strength was that it had no distance limit.
It didn’t matter how far away one of Sherlock’s marks was.
As long as the mark still existed, he could sense it.
And he could teleport to it instantly.
Across a city.
Across the country.
Potentially even farther.
That was the trump card Sherlock had deliberately kept hidden.
He hadn’t even told Gojo.
There was no way he was exposing it here unless he had absolutely no other choice.
“So I really have to fight this thing…” Sherlock breathed out slowly.
He forced his trembling hands to steady and raised Sayafushi, pointing the blade toward the curse.
The curse didn’t attack.
It simply stood there.
Watching him.
Like an old cat staring at a trapped mouse it hadn’t decided to kill yet.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes.
“Great.” A humorless smile appeared on his face.
“It’s looking down on me.” Then he moved.
Sherlock hurled Sayafushi directly at the curse.
Having already been caught off guard once, the curse reacted immediately.
It slapped the incoming katana aside.
Exactly as Sherlock expected.
Flying Thunder God activated.
Sherlock vanished.
He reappeared directly in front of the curse.
Its countless eyes widened.
Sherlock’s fist, reinforced with cursed energy, slammed directly into the wound he’d inflicted moments earlier.
The impact drove into its chest.
Then Sherlock disappeared again.
A second later, he materialized in midair beside the spinning Sayafushi.
His hand closed around the hilt.
His body vanished once more.
By the time the curse understood what was happening, Sherlock had already appeared behind it.
He raised the blade with both hands.
Then brought Sayafushi down hard across its back.