Cruciatus Curse

As if plunged into an ice cellar, as if standing before an abyss—the gangsters now understood, with painful clarity, the terrifying oppression those two idioms conveyed.

At this moment, even breathing required consideration of whether it might anger him. They were terrified that, in a fit of rage, he would wipe them all out.

Shirai Kuroko rested her chin on her hands and sipped her juice, looking as though she were enjoying a show. She had not sensed any killing intent from Rod, so she was not overly worried.

She assumed Rod would probably just teach this gang of thugs a lesson, much like her Onee-sama would, and leave it at that.

Misaka Mikoto shared Shirai Kuroko's view and made no move either.

What they did not know was that, to Rod, these thugs were like ants by the roadside. Being disturbed by ants might irritate him somewhat, but it would not make him reveal any so-called killing intent.

After all, if an ant bit you and you casually crushed it to death, would you feel as though some great vengeance had been avenged?

Which was precisely why killing intent was out of the question.

I'm quitting my part-time job! I've been responsible since I was little, and I've saved every cent of my wages to send my four younger foster sisters to school. But even the survival instinct I can't resist is telling me that if I go near that table, I might see the shadow I least want to see in this life.

An ordinary-looking passerby's survival instincts were frantically warning him to flee. If he stayed, he would probably be left with severe psychological trauma.

Amid the dead silence, an abrupt shout shattered the tense atmosphere.

"Sorry, Manager! I quit!" The moment Passerby A finished speaking, he sprinted out of the restaurant at a hundred-meter-dash pace, giving the manager no time to react at all.

"Hey, wait!" The manager had barely spoken when Passerby A had already vanished.

The gangsters instinctively looked toward the source of the argument, and the tension in their hearts eased slightly. One of them forced down his terror and managed to put on a smile as he prepared to apologize.

"Um..."

"Cruciatus Curse." Rod casually flicked two joined fingers, and invisible clusters of cursed power infused with "Idle Transfiguration" entered the gangsters' bodies one after another.

At once, piercing, ear-splitting wails rose and fell throughout the restaurant. The screams even shattered the restaurant's glass, showing just how unimaginable their pain was.

The gangsters curled up in agony, writhing like pale maggots. Their bodies convulsed violently, as though every nerve had been set ablaze, while every bone in their bodies seemed to struggle madly to burst free of their flesh.

If they had been able to control their bodies, the first thing the gangsters would have thought of was killing themselves, ending the agony that seemed to come from the depths of their souls.

The hellish sight of them struggling and twisting, frantically clawing at themselves until they were covered in blood, made the manager realize what the employee who had quit earlier had been so afraid of.

Any normal person who witnessed such a horrifying scene would be unable to stop their stomach from churning. Several employees, along with the manager, began vomiting profusely.

"What... what are you doing?!" Shirai Kuroko was no longer as composed as before. She sprang to her feet in agitation and pointed at Rod. Though her delicate body would not stop trembling, she still stood up to question him.

"Can't you tell? I'm teaching them a lesson." Rod answered carelessly, as though the heart-rending screams ringing around them did not exist. He casually set aside the bitter melon snail lasagna, took a sip of juice, and looked toward the gangsters struggling on the floor.

There was not the slightest hint of concern in his eyes. It was as though he were looking at an anthill flooded with molten lead—showing neither sympathy nor pity, and instead caring more about the complexity of its structure.

"S-Stop it!" Shirai Kuroko's beautiful eyes widened. The indifference of the man before her sent a chill through her entire body, leaving her unable to believe it.

The girl's kindness would not allow her to stand by and watch. Her hand instinctively slid toward the hem of her skirt, but before she could complete her next move, Rod grabbed her raised wrist. Her hands were pinned down, and her delicate body was pressed against the sofa seat beneath him.

Their posture was rather suggestive, finally snapping Misaka Mikoto, who had been somewhat disconnected since earlier, back to her senses. She hurriedly tried to persuade him.

"Mister, don't get yourself into trouble over these scum!" Although Rod's actions seemed overly extreme to Misaka Mikoto, she had never had much sympathy for these rotten gangsters. What concerned her more was that Rod might attract the Anti-Skill officers because of them. If that happened, things would become troublesome.

"Don't worry. Only six seconds have passed. Their minds will merely suffer some trauma; they'll recover after resting for a while. The fact that I didn't chop them all to pieces is already mercy on my part." Rod's low voice and face so close at hand made Shirai Kuroko, who had been flustered moments ago, dart her eyes around. A tempting blush spread across her pretty face.

The instant she noticed Rod looking at her, she instinctively turned her head away, not daring to meet his gaze.

W-Why is my heart beating so fast? It must be because of what happened just now.

By then, the gangsters' wails had already ceased. They had endured six seconds of Cruciatus Curse-like agony. Surely this would make these blind fools think carefully before causing trouble again.

"W-What happened here?" A girl dressed like a delinquent entered through the restaurant door. When she saw her underlings sprawled on the floor, covered in blood, her expression immediately darkened.

Seeing this, Shirai Kuroko activated her ability, escaping Rod's restraint. She appeared before the delinquent girl and teleported away with her in an instant, terrified that if she were even a step too slow, the same horrific scene would happen again.

"Seriously, even this rare late-night snack has become unappetizing." Rod clicked his tongue. Hearing that, Misaka Mikoto looked at the stack of plates piled into a small mountain and could not help twitching at the corner of her mouth.

"Manager, the bill. Include the damaged glass, tables, and chairs as well," Rod called out as he prepared to leave.

Upon learning that Rod would pay for everything, the manager, who had just been feeling distressed over the losses but had not dared ask for compensation, immediately brightened. He beamed with delight and became respectful and deferential.

As for the gangsters lying limp and foaming at the mouth, they were thrown out of the restaurant like garbage. The employees had seen their actions clearly. They were undeniably scum—selling Level Upper was only one of their crimes, while even worse acts of blackmail and extortion were commonplace.

Calling the police for them? As if. These people only deserved to stay with the trash.

"Wait for me, Mister!" Seeing Rod leave, Misaka Mikoto quickly got to her feet and followed after him.

The shy girl silently followed behind Rod, enjoying the tranquility of the night.