"-------!"
The two of them had no idea what had happened.
They only remembered seeing each other reach out and grip their sword hilts, and then... they lost consciousness.
When they opened their eyes again, they found themselves sprawled on the cold ground, while Duanmu Huai was still standing where he had been, looking at them speechlessly.
"Seriously? That's it? Is that all you've got? I haven't even used any strength yet, and you're already down?"
"What... did you do?"
Zen'in Mai rose while pressing a hand to her forehead and stared warily at Duanmu Huai, who merely shook his head speechlessly.
"I haven't done anything yet. Sigh, I knew you were weak, but I didn't expect you to be this weak. I've lost interest already."
As he spoke, Duanmu Huai reached into his coat, took out a business card, and tossed it over.
"If you need me in the future, you can call this number. Don't try these little tricks again. If I catch you doing it next time, it won't be settled so easily."
Zen'in Mai instinctively caught the card and raised her head, intending to say something. But by then, Duanmu Huai had already vanished without a trace before their eyes.
They really were hopeless.
Duanmu Huai looked extremely disappointed when he returned to the hotel.
He had originally wanted to see what these so-called Curse Masters were capable of, but it turned out they were nothing more than a bunch of Psykers. Of course, even among Psykers, they were only LOTA Class-level Psykers, the kind that needed to be managed by the Inquisition and the Astropathic Choir. In Duanmu Huai's eyes, however, they were basically a bunch of weaklings.
Going by this, the strongest members of this so-called Curse Master organization should only be ZETA Class-level