"Damn it!"
Jogo punched the blackened tree trunk beside him. The intense heat instantly scorched the bark to charcoal, and the trunk snapped in the middle and crashed to the ground.
He turned around, wisps of white smoke pouring from the opening atop his head, his bulging eyes filled with irrepressible fury.
"Why do we have to run? Huh?!"
"Are you telling me the seven of us can't handle one Satoru Gojo?!"
Huojin stopped walking.
He turned around, the light core in the center of his chest shining a little brighter than before.
"Jogo is right."
His voice was low, but it carried a distinct undercurrent of the same suppressed agitation.
"Seven special grade cursed spirits against one human sorcerer."
"And we have to run away with our tails between our legs?"
His gaze swept over the others, and the light core flashed inside his chest.
"It would be humiliating if word of this got out."
Hanami stopped and turned to face Huojin and Jogo.
Her bearing remained composed.
"Under normal circumstances, we have almost no chance of winning a direct fight against Satoru Gojo."
"You all felt the power of that Red just now. That wasn't his full strength."
"That man's cursed technique is itself a conceptual defense. Not one of our current means of attack can break through his Limitless."
She paused, her gaze passing over their faces one by one.
"Retreat is our only correct choice right now."
The light core inside Huojin's chest abruptly brightened.
"So you're saying we have no chance even with seven against one?"
A muffled rumble came from his chest.
Hanami met his gaze without backing down.
"None."
Huojin's light core flickered violently several times, like an ignited fuse burning rapidly inside him.
The soil at his feet began to tremble faintly.