To be honest, Arata Hoshino felt a bit helpless.
Blood Manipulation was great in every way except for one: it was a massive drain on his actual blood supply.
Unlike Choso, the eldest of the Cursed Womb: Death Paintings, Arata couldn’t convert cursed energy into blood.
As a regular human, he faced the very real risk of anemia or hemorrhagic shock.
Consequently, he never left for a mission without several medical blood bags in his gear.
Seeing the elephant-trunk curse raise its hand to lock on again, Arata hurled a blood bag directly at it.
In that split second of confusion, the bag exploded right in the curse’s face.
The splashing blood instantly coalesced into rope-like strands, binding the creature tightly.
Arata didn’t give it a chance to break free.
With a wave of his left hand, the remaining blood in the air spun violently, forming several ring-shaped blades that whistled through the air, slashing at the curse.
However, the damage from the Slicing Exorcism was underwhelming.
Despite the fierce visual display, the blades only left shallow scratches on the spirit’s hide.
By now, the curse had torn through the restraints.
It raised its left hand, and the thick white beam locked onto Arata once more.
But with Flowing Red Scale active, Arata evaded the blast with ease.
Arata narrowed his eyes.
*This thing’s defense is higher than I thought.
Slicing Exorcism can’t cut deep enough, and Crimson Binding can’t hold it for long.
If I don’t use Piercing Blood, I probably won’t do any real damage.*
But Piercing Blood required time to charge and aim.
Given the curse’s rapid-fire attacks, finding a window to focus seemed unrealistic.
*Should I use Cursed Speech?*
The thought crossed his mind, but just as he was about to act, Gojo’s voice echoed in his head:
“You aren’t Toge.
He can only use Cursed Speech, but you’re different.
Over-relying on it will make your own technique meaningless.”
“Aside from lecturing me, all you do is scam me out of money.
No wonder Shoko-san calls you a scumbag,” Arata muttered to himself with a smirk, abandoning the idea of using Cursed Speech.
Just then, Yuta Okkotsu arrived at his side, gripping his katana with both hands.
“Senior!
I’ll help!” Yuta’s hands were shaking, but his eyes were steadier than before.
Arata glanced at him, the corner of his mouth turning up.
“Fine.
Buy me some time.”
“Right!” Yuta nodded hard.
The elephant curse raised its hand again, sweeping the thick beam across the plaza.
The two dived in opposite directions.
As Arata rolled, he fished another blood bag from his belt.
The curse moved to finish Arata off, but Yuta had already closed the distance from the flank.
He swung the katana with all his might at the curse’s back.
The spirit spun around, blocking the strike with its arm, but in that instant, it felt the overwhelming pressure of Rika Orimoto emanating from within Yuta.
Feeling provoked, the curse fired a beam directly at Yuta.
Luckily, Yuta’s reflexes were sharp; the beam only grazed his forehead.
“Yuta!” Arata’s pupils shrunken.
“I’m okay!” Yuta shouted, wiping the blood from his brow.
Arata’s gaze turned cold.
“Blood Manipulation: Convergence.”
Arata pressed his palms together, aiming at the curse.
The blood bag he had thrown earlier burst open, the crimson liquid rushing toward his palms at high speed.
The elephant curse sensed the threat and abandoned Yuta, spinning around to face Arata–but the charge was already complete.
“Piercing Blood!”
The bead of blood, compressed to its absolute limit, let out a piercing shriek as it was released.
The red bolt tore through the air at supersonic speeds.
The curse tried to counter with its own beam, but it was too late; the blood arrow punched straight through its forehead, erupting in a spray of purple gore.
The curse froze.
Its hands flickered like a dying lightbulb before going dark.
Its massive body swayed, then toppled forward, kicking up a cloud of dust and grit.
“We did it?” Yuta’s hand was still trembling as he held his sword.
Arata didn’t answer.
He stood with his palms pressed together for two seconds, then his knees buckled, and he dropped to one leg.
“Senior!” Yuta rushed over, hovering his hands over Arata, unsure where to touch.
“Are…
are you okay?”
“No…” Arata panted.
“Just…
a little dizzy.”
While Flowing Red Scale was a powerful buff–boosting strength, speed, defense, and cursed energy output–the price was steep.
It involved soaring body temperatures, skyrocketing blood pressure, and extreme cardiac strain.
Once deactivated, the user was left in a state of total physical and spiritual exhaustion.
“Yuta,” Arata sat on the ground, looking up.
“Why didn’t you release the vengeful spirit?
If you’d let her out, this would have been over in seconds.”
“You mean Rika?” Yuta scratched the back of his head nervously.
“Gojo-sensei told me that no matter what happens, I must never let Rika manifest.
I can only channel her energy into the blade.
Otherwise, the higher-ups will execute both the teacher and me.”
“Gojo was right to warn you, but do you really think those useless higher-ups could even touch him?” Arata looked at the innocent Yuta with total disbelief.
Only a naive kid like Yuta would fall for Gojo’s flimsy excuses.
Just then, the Veil hanging over the district began to dissolve, the artificial twilight replaced by normal sunlight.
Yuta let out a long breath.
“It’s over…”
Arata smiled faintly.
“Let’s go.
Time to head back.”
The black sedan drove quietly on the return trip, the scenery blurring past the windows.
Arata leaned back in the rear seat, another lollipop in his mouth.
He glanced at Yuta, who was hugging his katana, as tense as a drawn bowstring.
“Relax,” Arata said indistinctly.
“The mission is over.”
“Ah…
right.” Yuta nodded, though his knuckles remained white against the hilt.
“Senior…
that curse…
why did it appear so suddenly?”
“Who knows.” Arata shrugged.
“Curses don’t exactly send a courtesy text saying ‘I’m about to ambush you now.'”
Yuta blinked, then actually nodded seriously, as if absorbing a great wisdom.
“You’re right, Senior…”
Arata nearly choked on his lollipop.
*Is this kid seriously this easy to fool?*
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