Transfiguration

The moment Gu Yanzhi swung his fist, he churned the air throughout the screening room.

His Seven-Person Share physique erupted at full power, his fist tearing through the darkness with a sharp whistle.

Then his fist stopped.

It had hit nothing.

The impact he had expected never came. Neither did the sensation of contact.

His fist froze in midair, his fingers still clenched with all his strength, every muscle in his arm taut as a rubber band stretched to its limit.

An eerie silence settled over the room.

At some point, the other four had slumped back in their seats with their eyes closed, breathing evenly, their expressions peaceful, as though lost in uneventful dreams.

What Gu Yanzhi could not see was that the target of his punch-Mahito-was standing beside Blondie, one hand just lifting from Blondie's head.

The creation of that malformed transfigured human had only just begun. The skin had not yet had time to change.

Gu Yanzhi had aimed his fist at Mahito, but his bodily senses had deceived him.

That chill, that pressure, that alarm that set every hair on end-they had told him the cursed spirit was behind him, very close.

But they had not told him exactly where the cursed spirit was. His body could sense danger, but it could not pinpoint its location.

When his fist flew out, Mahito stood less than a foot beyond its path, close enough that, had Gu Yanzhi possessed cursed energy, he could have seen the flicker of surprise on Mahito's face.

But Gu Yanzhi could not see him. All he saw was his own fist suspended in midair, the light from the screen passing through empty air to illuminate his knuckles. There was nothing there.

Mahito tilted his head.

He still had half of Brownie's shoulder in his grip, and Blondie's arm had already begun to deform, fine cracks appearing across the skin.

But Mahito's attention was no longer on Blondie at all.

He let go, allowing the unfinished transfigured human to slump into the seat, and stared at the high schooler before him, who was still holding his punching stance. A rare spark of interest stirred in his mismatched eyes.

That punch had carried considerable force. For an ordinary human to throw a punch that powerful was almost impossible.

The curve of Mahito's lips slowly deepened. Then he darted close and planted his palm against Gu Yanzhi's chest.

His consciousness was stripped away in that instant.

Gu Yanzhi felt as though an invisible hand had dragged him out of his body. All his senses cut out at once.

There was no pain, no chance to struggle.

When his consciousness returned, the first thing Gu Yanzhi perceived was absolute darkness.

No light, no sound, no sense of touch.

He could not feel his hands or feet. It was as though he had been immersed in some incredibly dense liquid, pressed from every direction, yet with nothing tangible pressing against him.

Had he been stored away?

He silently assessed his situation. Mahito's cursed technique, Idle Transfiguration, could compress the bodies of transfigured humans and store them inside him, releasing them as expendable tools whenever he needed them.

That was the state he was in now-his body had been turned into a transfigured human, but the system's protection had kept his consciousness from being erased.

He was awake, yet trapped in a body that could not move, compressed into some corner inside Mahito, surrounded by nothing but endless darkness and silence.

He began reviewing his earlier punch, but the more he went over it, the more he wanted to find a hole to crawl into.

An all-out strike, a Seven-Person Share physique, a rush of air that had made even the seats' armrests hum-and he had not so much as brushed the hem of Mahito's clothes.

His bodily senses were still too crude. He could feel danger approaching, but could not determine its exact position. Humiliating. Fucking humiliating.

He spent a long time turning that moment over and over in his mind, and concluded there was nothing he could have done.

He could not see cursed spirits now. Relying on his bodily senses alone, he could at most tell roughly which direction one was in. Pinpointing it was impossible.

Time lost all meaning in the darkness.

After an unknown stretch of time-perhaps several days, perhaps dozens of hours-Gu Yanzhi felt a violent upheaval.

It was not his own body moving. It was the space he occupied.

The environment inside Mahito's body shook. Many of the transfigured humans stored there alongside him were thrown out. Mahito was probably fighting someone.

It was likely his battle with Nanami.

After another stretch of time, the upheaval subsided.

Then came an even longer stretch of darkness and silence.

Until light suddenly appeared.

Gu Yanzhi felt his body released from its compressed state. His limbs felt solid again, and his feet touched hard ground.

He squinted in the light as his vision shifted from blurry to clear.

Broken bricks and shattered tiles surrounded him. The air was thick with the smell of dust and smoke.

He quickly scanned the surrounding ruins and saw no sign of Nanami. It seemed the battle was already over.

Then he heard a voice.

"Is this your special-grade transfigured human? It certainly looks interesting."

The voice came from the edge of the ruins, its cadence unhurried, every syllable falling clearly into Gu Yanzhi's ears.

It was not loud, yet seemed to imprint itself directly on his consciousness-a pressure felt on a physical level, and even in his memories.

He had heard this voice before.

His first reincarnation. That remote mountain village. He had been running for his life through the woods. The man he had seen just before dying. The man who had spoken to him just before dying.

He could never forget that voice.

Suguru Geto.

Gu Yanzhi did not move. He stood amid the ruins, his expression vacant and his gaze unfocused, no different from the other transfigured humans Mahito had released.

He did not need to move his eyes. The edge of his vision had already caught the figure-the man standing beside Mahito.

Suguru Geto, with a line of stitches running across his forehead.

It was Kenjaku, the ancient sorcerer occupying Suguru Geto's body.

"I wouldn't call him special-grade." Mahito's voice came from another direction, light and breezy. "His baseline was a little better than an ordinary person's. Much higher muscle density and bone strength."

Kenjaku's gaze lingered on Gu Yanzhi for a few seconds, as though appraising a tool. "Interesting."