Lower Rank One's body swelled into an enormous ball of flesh.
Pillars of purplish-black light erupted from his eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth.
The surrounding air was sucked dry as poisonous mist surged inward, compressing into an extremely unstable energy core inside his chest.
Once that energy detonated, everything in the basin would be vaporized in an instant.
Yaha stood atop the stone pillar, his hands still in his pockets.
He watched the ball of flesh on the verge of exploding without so much as raising an eyelid.
"A pointless struggle."
He pulled out his right hand, spreading his fingers slightly.
His fingertips brushed lightly through empty space.
Cursed Technique Eight.
An invisible, enormous net crashed down.
The intensely compressed purplish-black energy core froze an instant before it could explode.
Lower Rank One's bloodshot eyes locked in place.
A faint rustling sounded.
Like a sharp engraving blade slicing through thin paper.
Lower Rank One's body fell apart.
He did not even have time to register pain.
Flesh, bones, and organs, along with that mass of destructive energy, were dismantled into perfectly uniform cubes the size of fingernails.
The purplish-black poisonous mist was severed as well.
Deprived of its host's support, the highly concentrated poison disintegrated instantly in the air, dissipating as ordinary white smoke.
Cubes of flesh rained from the sky like an eerie red downpour, pelting the wreckage below.
Every cut surface was smooth as a mirror.
Not a single drop of blood splashed out.
The instant it was severed, the blood had its very spiritual foundation cut away, letting out a faint hiss as it died completely.
Lower Rank One's head shattered into dozens of pieces.
The eyeball bearing the words "Lower One" fell onto a bluestone slab by itself.
It rolled twice, then carbonized into a lifeless pile of ash.
There was no desperate reversal, no panting after a hard-fought battle.
Only utterly one-sided annihilation.
Yaha stepped on a broken plank and jumped down to the ground.
He brushed off the hem of his clothes and slipped his hand back into his pocket.
Back in the basin village.
Yaha stood in the middle of the ruins.
Cold moonlight shone on him as the black curse markings on his face slowly faded, retreating beneath his collar.
An icy mechanical voice sounded in his mind.
[Ding! Host detected to have asserted dominance as a superior being. A member of the Twelve Kizuki has been completely annihilated.] [Roleplay level increased by 8%. Current roleplay level: 33%.] [Reach a roleplay level of 50% to unlock "Domain Expansion."]
After hearing the notifications, Yaha curled his lip.
33%.
A Lower Rank's life really was worthless. Not even enough to whet my appetite.
Still, at least the progress toward Domain Expansion was clear now.
Once I unlocked that, nothing in this world would be enough of an obstacle to hold my interest.
Even Muzan Kibutsuji, cowering in the Infinity Castle, would only be fit to become a pile of ground meat inside Malevolent Shrine.
He turned, ready to leave the basin that reeked of burnt flesh.
Time to find an Upper Rank to practice on.
Just as he took two steps.
An extremely faint sound reached his ears.
It came from beneath the collapsed bell tower to the northeast.
Yaha stopped.
That was not an animal whimpering.
It was a human child's sobbing.
The child's breathing was faint, his heartbeat chaotic.
Clearly, the commotion had terrified him, and he was trembling beneath the planks.
Yaha turned his head, sweeping his gaze over the wreckage.
When he had sliced everything apart along with the bell tower, he had indeed made quite a racket.
Someone in this village had actually survived without being melted by the poisonous mist.
Yaha stood still, his brows slowly drawing together.
Sukuna's instincts told him that the fate of an insignificant insect like this was not worth even half a second of his attention.
Simply walking away was the best choice befitting the King of Curses.
But his boot scraped against the ground for a long while, and he still could not take that step.
An image flashed through his mind: that snowy night two years ago, his sister Tsutako trapped beneath the rubble, desperately urging him to survive.
"What a pain."
He clicked his tongue in irritation, muttered a curse, then turned and walked toward the wreckage.
His military boots struck the planks with dull thuds.
Reaching the ruins, Yaha extended his right hand and grabbed a thick roof beam lying across the top.
He flexed his arm.
With a crack, he lifted the timber weighing hundreds of pounds with one hand.
He deliberately controlled his strength to keep too much dust from falling, then casually tossed the beam onto an open patch of ground more than ten meters away.
He pulled aside the broken planks, bricks, and tiles, revealing a narrow cellar entrance below.
Half of the wooden door over the entrance had already been smashed apart.
A boy of seven or eight was curled up in a corner.
His face was covered in dust, and he clutched his knees tightly with both hands.
Tears had washed two distinct white streaks through the dust on his face.
The boy saw the moonlight spilling down from above, then the black-clad youth standing over him.
Terrified, he choked back his sobs, his entire body shaking like a leaf.
With both hands in his pockets, Yaha looked down at the boy in the cellar.
"If you're not dead, climb out yourself."
Yaha's voice was cold and plainly impatient.
"I don't have time to babysit you."
Before you continue