The Will to Survive

She unleashed a fully charged punch.

It blasted a massive hole through the sewer. Rubble and sewage flew through the air, fragments of pipe striking the brick walls on either side and bouncing back. Dust mingled with mist, obscuring the entire space.

But she saw no sign of the cockroach cursed spirit. Its presence had vanished the instant the blast erupted.

The woman's pupils contracted sharply. The thing had actually dodged. So fast!

An icy sensation spread from the back of her neck down her spine.

Two armored arms slipped beneath her armpits and crossed over her chest, locking her firmly in place.

Their barbs pierced her protective cursed energy and sank straight into her flesh. She struggled instinctively, cursed energy erupting throughout her body as she tried to blast the monster off her back with a shock wave.

But he did not budge-his strength was every bit as terrifying as his absurd speed.

She opened her mouth to shout, to activate her cursed technique, to launch one last counterattack.

But it was already too late.

Gu Yanzhi bit straight into the back of her neck.

His mandibles clamped down, the crack of breaking armor mingling with the snap of bone.

Once. Twice.

Within seconds, the woman's violent struggles dwindled into spasms, then stopped altogether.

Her corpse slipped from Gu Yanzhi's grasp and landed in the sewage.

Silence returned to the dark sewer.

Gu Yanzhi crouched beside the corpse and fed. Hundreds of tiny images in his compound eyes focused simultaneously on the remains in his claws.

A muffled, satisfied rumble rose from his throat.

Then he stopped.

Reason crept back into his consciousness like seawater returning after low tide.

He lowered his head and looked at his forelimbs, covered in blood and scraps of flesh.

Then he looked at the two corpses on the ground-the man's head had been crushed, the woman's neck bitten through.

He remembered what he had done. Every last detail.

This is bad! Gu Yanzhi screamed inwardly.

Even with the system's protection, he could not remain completely rational inside a cursed spirit's body.

The problem lay in the hunger radiating from his body. It was not something he could suppress through willpower-it was an instinct etched into every cell of this shell. Just as humans needed to breathe, cursed spirits needed to feed.

He had not been controlled just now. He had been himself-a version of himself that ate when hungry.

And that food was human.

He had finally ended up in a powerful body, and the battle had just shown Gu Yanzhi how strong it was. His already formidable physique had been added to Kurourushi's special grade cursed spirit body, making his stats downright brutal.

Gu Yanzhi felt a pang of regret. So I ended up as a cursed spirit?

System, you're a real piece of work.

Honestly, the feeling of being unable to fully control his own body seriously pissed Gu Yanzhi off.

At least his mind had been clear when Mahito modified him. But here, no one was controlling him-he was controlling himself, driven by this body's most primal desires.

The sensation of eating human flesh and blood was becoming increasingly addictive. The taste of those two corpses still lingered in his mouthparts, its aftereffects sending faint stabs of pain through the nerves in his brain.

His body urged him to keep going-there were more people aboveground, more cursed energy, more blood.

He took a deep breath and caught the scent of blood drifting through the air. His forelimbs shifted half an inch toward it without his permission. He forcibly pulled them back.

This can't go on.

He did not know when this body would lose control again. He did not know whether continuing to feed like this would turn him into a monster completely.

He sighed.

Gu Yanzhi decided to end this life early and collect his rewards.

A sword appeared in his hand.

The Festering Life Sword-Kurourushi's cursed tool. Its blade was pitch-black, its hilt wrapped in dark red cloth.

Since he occupied Kurourushi's body, naturally he could summon Kurourushi's cursed tool.

He tightened his grip on the hilt and, without hesitation, slashed at his own neck. The blade cut into a gap in his armor, pierced the chitinous shell, and severed muscle fibers and his windpipe.

The wound was deep. Green blood erupted from it and splattered against the pipe wall.

His body swayed, then collapsed into the sewage.

His vision began to dim, his consciousness to blur.

It's over.

Although this life had ended rather disgracefully-being driven to suicide by his own cursed spirit instincts was hardly something to brag about-at least the rewards would be plentiful. Kurourushi's original cursed energy, cursed technique, and physique were all very powerful.

Wait.

The death he expected never came.

His body was moving.

He could no longer feel his limbs, and most of his vision had already gone black, yet he could feel it-his body was twitching. All six limbs kicked mindlessly in the sewage, the muscles beneath his armor

spasming in waves. This was not driven by conscious thought, but by a pure survival instinct etched into his genes.

Cockroaches could survive for days after losing their heads.

He had cut his neck, not severed his head. This body was trying to repair itself.

An overwhelming survival instinct erupted within him.

Not his survival instinct-Kurourushi's.

He had overwritten this cursed spirit's original consciousness, but its bodily memories remained.

This shell had survived countless brushes with death and regenerations. Every one of its cells remembered how to survive desperate circumstances.

It did not want to die.

His body writhed grotesquely on the ground, its six legs struggling in an uncoordinated rhythm as he crawled toward the little boy in the distance.

Gu Yanzhi wanted to stop, but his consciousness was already too hazy to control this body driven by its survival instinct. Damn it. That kid is still there.

The boy the two curse users had tortured sat slumped beneath the shattered pipe wall. The cursed energy needles in his thighs still gave off a faint, ghostly blue glow.

His breathing was shallow, his lips pale, and his pupils were already losing focus.

The man's cursed technique had injured him too severely. Blood kept seeping from his wounds, pooling beneath him.

Gu Yanzhi crawled toward the boy.

The sword was still embedded in his neck, and he left a trail of green blood behind him.

The last thing Gu Yanzhi saw was the boy's face.

A face twisted by pain and despair.

There was no fear in those eyes-only a dying light, slowly being replaced by hatred and resentment.

The presence of a curse was slowly taking shape.

The cursed energy humans released after death could form cursed spirits-this boy was close to becoming one.

After he died, that resentment would remain here in the sewer, slowly festering, slowly taking shape.

Gu Yanzhi's consciousness plunged completely into darkness.

His body kept moving.

But he could no longer feel anything.