Chapter 43: Transformation Through Idle Transfiguration
The alley was dim and narrow, a dead end swallowed by shadow.
Rainwater dripped from the eaves, gathering into murky streams that crawled along the broken ground. The air was damp, cold, and tainted by something far fouler than rain.
Mahito stood in the darkness with his hands in his pockets, his usual carefree smile still plastered across his face.
"Well, I've been found."
He tilted his head, looking almost disappointed as he watched Yami walk toward him at an unhurried pace.
"I was hoping to have a nice little chat with that kid, Junpei, first. You know, a heart to heart about life."
Mahito pointed lazily toward the other end of the alley, where Junpei's lonely silhouette could still be faintly seen through the rain.
"Look at him. He's got talent."
"Bullied, isolated, full of resentment toward the world."
Mahito's smile widened.
"Give him just a little power, just a tiny push to reshape his life, and he could turn into such a wonderful killing machine."
His tone was light, casual, as if he were discussing the weather or deciding what to eat for dinner.
He did not notice that with every word he spoke, the temperature in the alley was dropping.
Yami stopped ten meters away.
That distance was perfect.
Perfect for killing.
"Your smell is disgusting," Yami said calmly, calling the cursed spirit by name. "Mahito."
For a brief instant, Mahito's smile froze.
Then it widened again.
"Oh? Am I that famous already? Even a student recognizes me?"
"A curse born from humanity's hatred of itself."
Yami's hand did not yet reach for his sword. It hung naturally at his side.
But his aura had already locked onto Mahito completely.
"Your existence in this world may not be a mistake."
His voice was gentle, but every word carried a terrifying certainty.
"Your mistake was treating fragile, precious souls like toys."
In Yami's clear perception, Mahito's soul was visible beneath the surface.
It was twisted, chaotic, grotesque.
Like a monster crudely stitched together from countless screaming fragments.
"That's unfair. I'm just a newborn life," Mahito said with an exaggerated pout, spreading his hands innocently.
"Humanity gave birth to me, so isn't it only fair that I give a little something back?"
He took a step forward, still smiling.
"Like a child taking apart a toy to see what's inside. What's wrong with that?"
Before the last word fell, Mahito vanished.
The next second, he appeared directly in front of Yami.
His right arm had already transformed into a sharp blade of bone, thrusting straight for Yami's heart.
The attack was absurdly fast, far too fast for a newly born cursed spirit.
"For example, turning you into part of my collection."
Malice flickered wildly in Mahito's eyes.
Yet Yami did not even blink.
Just as the bone blade was about to pierce his chest, he moved.
Whoosh.
His body slid half a step to the left like a ghost, perfectly avoiding the blade by the narrowest possible margin. At the same instant, his left hand shot out and seized Mahito's wrist.
Mahito's eyes narrowed.
He was not surprised that Yami had dodged.
He was surprised that Yami had dared to touch him.
Mahito's technique, Idle Transfiguration, allowed him to reshape the soul of anything he touched. Against someone without Cursed Energy reinforcement, a single touch should have meant instant death.
"Hahaha, you idiot!"
Mahito laughed wildly and activated his technique without hesitation.
"Idle Transfiguration!"
Cursed Energy surged from his hand into Yami's palm, invasive and cruel, trying to burrow into his body and twist his soul into something monstrous.
Then their souls touched.
Sizzle.
A sickening sound split the alley.
"Aaagh!"
The smile on Mahito's face shattered instantly, replaced by pure agony.
What he had touched was not a human soul.
It was the sun.
A terrifying, scorching brightness erupted from the point of contact, burning into the deepest layer of his existence. Not only could Yami's soul not be distorted, it was actively melting Mahito's.
"Get off me!"
Mahito screamed.
His free hand instantly morphed into a giant hammer and smashed into the ground, using the recoil to tear himself away from Yami's grip. He staggered back dozens of steps before slamming into the wall at the far end of the alley.
When he looked down, a blackened handprint had been seared into his wrist.
It was not merely flesh wound. It reached all the way into the soul.
No matter how much Cursed Energy he poured into it, the damage would not heal. Black smoke kept rising from it in thin curls.
"What are you?" Mahito demanded, staring at Yami with genuine fear for the first time.
This was the first time he had ever encountered something that felt like a natural enemy.
"I am Yami."
Yami slowly raised his right hand and rested it on the hilt of the black katana at his waist.
"And I am the one who will cut down your sin."
Clang.
With a clear, resonant sound, the supreme grade cursed tool Shiranui slipped one inch from its sheath.
Just one inch.
Golden red light flooded the alley at once.
It was the brilliance produced when Sun Breathing resonated with Shiranui. Rain that drifted too close evaporated instantly into white mist. The damp, filthy alley was suddenly bathed in sacred heat.
Wrapped in steam and golden light, Yami stood there with calm red eyes fixed on Mahito's terrified face.
At that moment, in Mahito's vision, Yami no longer looked human.
He looked like a god of execution stepping out of purgatory.
The pressure pouring from him was so overwhelming that for the first time in his life, Mahito felt the urge to run.
"Your hands are too filthy," Yami said softly.
His voice was not loud.
But it sounded like judgment.
Then he disappeared.
Full Focus, Sun Breathing.
"First Form, Dance."
Boom.
A perfect circular slash of fire erupted through the rainy night.
It was too fast.
So fast that Mahito could not even see the arc of the blade.
He only felt a sudden chill across his chest, followed immediately by a searing agony that exploded through his entire body.
Blood mixed with black filth sprayed from his mouth.
Mahito staggered backward and looked down in disbelief.
A deep wound had been carved across his chest, so deep that bone showed through. Golden red sparks crackled at its edges, burning ceaselessly, denying any chance of regeneration.
"What kind of flame is this...?"
Mahito's voice shook.
This fire was not merely burning his body.
It was burning his soul.
"It isn't over yet."
Yami's voice came from behind him.
Like a blade already resting at the back of his neck.
Mahito whirled around and met a pair of emotionless red eyes, and Shiranui raised once more, wrapped in blazing light.
"Second Form, Clear Blue Sky."
The slash rose.
Flames surged upward like a pillar that could split heaven and earth, illuminating the black rainy night as though dawn had arrived in an instant.
In that nameless alley, the special grade cursed spirit born from human malice had finally encountered the one existence meant to oppose him.
A swordsman with no Cursed Energy.
And a soul hotter than the sun.
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 10–50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]
[One Piece, Naruto, Bleach, Soul Land, NBA, and more — all in one place.]