The small, winged creature hovering near Julian’s face was instantly recognizable.
In the Culling Game, every registered player received a dedicated Kogane.
They served as a direct line to the system, answering basic queries and processing rule additions.
Kogane tilted its pale insectoid head, eyes blinking in mild confusion as it observed the human in front of it.
Most newly arrived players were either hyperventilating or screaming for answers, yet this one stared back with zero surprise.
“Is there anything you wish to ask, Player?” Kogane asked, fluttering in a tight circle.
Julian shook his head.
“No.
I’m good.”
He had read the rules, watched the events unfold, and knew the framework of the game better than almost anyone currently trapped inside the barriers.
“Very well,” Kogane chirped, its tone deflating slightly.
“I shall withdraw.
Call upon me whenever you require assistance.”
As the shikigami began to fade into a puff of white mist, a thought struck Julian.
He reached out quickly.
“Wait!
Hold on, I do have one question!”
Kogane snapped back into visibility, its large eyes brightening.
“Ask away, Player!”
“Which colony is this?”
Ten colonies spanned the country during the Culling Game.
Julian knew the major battlegrounds—Tokyo No.
1, Tokyo No.
2, Sendai, and Sakurajima—alongside six minor zones like Lake Gosho, Niigata, Nagoya, Kyoto, Osaka, and Hiroshima.
But right now, he had no idea where the barrier had dropped him.
Kogane tilted its head again, clearly baffled as to how a participant could enter a barrier without knowing its geographic boundary.
Still, it answered without hesitation.
“You are currently located in Tokyo Colony No.
2.”
Julian’s breath hitched.
Tokyo No.
2…
He turned his head, taking in the towering rows of rusted shipping containers, giant cranes, and industrial loading docks.
This was the harbor district.
The very place where Kinji Hakari would eventually clash with Hajime Kashimo, the thunderous sorcerer from four hundred years ago.
A cold shiver ran down Julian’s spine.
If he bumped into Kashimo at his current level, he wouldn’t even serve as a warm-up.
Forget Kashimo, Julian thought, shaking the salt water from his damp hair.
I need to focus on basic survival first.
As he wrung out the hem of his shirt, another detail struck him.
He had been speaking plain English, yet Kogane understood him perfectly.
A brief text ping flashed across his internal vision.
[ System Translation Protocol: All verbal communication within the barrier is automatically translated into the primary language of the target entity, including sorcerers, curses, and shikigami.
]
“At least you’re useful for something,” Julian muttered under his breath.
He adjusted his clothes and took his first steps toward the maze of shipping containers, intending to scout the immediate perimeter.
“Excuse me…
are you alright?”
A timid voice called out from behind a blue container.
Julian turned.
A middle-aged man in a wrinkled business suit was ducking behind the metal frame, peering out with wide, terrified eyes.
Seeing Julian pause, the man took a hesitant step forward, clutching a battered leather briefcase against his chest.
“Do you know what’s happening?
I was at my desk, and suddenly everyone just vanished!
Where did the city go?”
Julian analyzed the man’s posture, his trembling hands, and the sweat soaking his collar.
A non-sorcerer.
People who were inside the barrier parameters when Kenjaku raised the curtains were trapped inside.
They were given a Kogane upon entry, but without cursed energy, ordinary humans couldn’t see or hear the shikigami.
They were completely blind to the mechanics of the game.
Julian looked at him with a trace of pity.
The Culling Game was a meat grinder, and the survival rate for trapped civilians was practically zero.
He wasn’t Yuta Okkotsu; he didn’t have the power to shepherd helpless people through an active war zone.
But leaving him with a warning cost nothing.
“This is a closed barrier,” Julian said, keeping his distance.
“Find a deep place to hide and stay out of sight.
That’s your only shot at making it out.”
He turned on his heel to leave, but as he took his second step, he caught the man’s expression in the reflective glass of a nearby control booth.
The panic in the man’s eyes had vanished.
In its place was a strange, heavy look of quiet guilt.
Julian froze.
Guilt?
Before the thought could fully form in his mind, a flash of pale light burst from his peripheral vision.
A sudden, crushing force slammed directly into his temple.
The impact blew through bone and tissue before his nervous system could even register the pain.
As the light in his eyes rapidly snuffed out, a trembling, distant voice echoed over the dark.
“I’m sorry…
they said they’d let me go if I baited someone…”
[ Attempt Failed: 10 ]
[ Cause of Death: Ambushed via coordinated trap at spawn coordinates.
]
[ Evaluation: Extreme lack of situational awareness.
Easily baited.
]
[ Clearance Reward: Moderate increase in Cursed Energy capacity.
Basic Cursed Energy Control.
Slight increase in Martial Proficiency.
Slight increase in Impact Resistance.
]
Julian sat up on the white floor of the void, his hand instinctively flying to his left temple.
“Son of a…”
He stared at the evaluation panel, piecing together what had just happened.
Spawn camping.
Because entry points within each colony were fixed, veteran players or ruthless sorcerers set up traps around known drop zones, using terrified non-sorcerers as live bait to pick off newly arrived players before they could orient themselves.
Julian rubbed his temple where the phantom pain lingered.
The projectile had been fast, linear, and lethal—likely a high-caliber firearm reinforced with cursed energy, similar to the weapon setup used by sorcerers like Mai Zen’in.
He let out a long, slow exhale, forcing the anger down into his chest.
“Fine.
Camp the harbor all you want.
See what happens next time I walk through those containers.”
He dismissed the death report and opened his updated status window.
Defeating the aquatic curse before his final drop had drastically altered his reward payout.
This wasn’t just a minor increment—the system had re-evaluated his base capabilities.
[ Name: Julian Iglesias ]
[ Rank: Grade 4 Sorcerer ]
[ Cursed Energy: Grade 4 Baseline ]
[ Cursed Technique: None ]
[ Skills: Basic Cursed Energy Output ]
[ Evaluation: Has achieved the baseline standard of a Grade 4 Sorcerer.
Officially entered the world of Jujutsu.
Lacks an innate technique, but functions adequately as front-line fodder.
]
Julian stared at the rank line, a slow grin spreading across his face despite the lingering soreness in his head.
“Grade 4…” He clenched his fist, feeling the faint, steady pulse of energy resting in his core.
“I’m officially a sorcerer.”