Curse Return: Demon Void Girl Doesn't Want to Be a Weakling

The perspective shifts to Mashiro's side.

Mashiro released the communication button, and the corridor fell silent again.

No trace of magical power could be sensed in the direction where Lu Suo disappeared; only the cracks on the ground caused by the sound waves remained.

Although they didn't leave Lu Suo behind, they at least taught him a lesson, preventing him from swaggering away.

And this thousand-year-old deity has plenty of ways to escape, so it's still somewhat acceptable.

She moved her shoulders, and her shoulder joint made a cracking sound.

The spell power has been used up quite a bit, but it can still be used. Louhu and Tuogen are still down there, so we can't waste time elsewhere.

Mashiro turned and walked towards the stairwell.

The stairwell at Shibuya Station was riddled with holes from the previous battle, and large sections of tiles had peeled off the walls, revealing the structure beneath.

Half of the ceiling lights were off, and the remaining ones flickered overhead, casting an inconsistent light on the stairwell.

The air was filled with the smell of dust and gunpowder.

Mashiro walked down the stairs, her footsteps amplified in the narrow stairwell, each step echoing.

On B4F, at the stairwell lay the remains of several cyborgs, their bodies reduced to grayish-white powder, scattered across the floor by the wind blowing in from the ventilation vents.

Mashiro stepped over the wreckage and continued down to the fifth underground level, the place where Gojo Satoru was sealed.

As soon as Mashiro went downstairs, she saw several cyborgs climbing down from the ceiling in the corridor.

Their bodies were twisted beyond recognition, their arms replaced with bone blades, and they pounced on Shiro the moment they saw her.

Mashiro didn't stop; Murasaki emerged from his palm, the blade gleaming silver under the light.

She walked forward, a flash of light from her side, and the cyborg's body was severed in the middle, the upper and lower halves falling to the ground.

Before the cyborg behind could react, the blade had already slashed upwards across its chest.

The third cyborg pounced from the side, his bone blade aimed at Shiro's neck.

Mashiro tilted her head slightly, and the bone blade grazed her ear, missing its mark.

Cong Yu thrust his hand back into its throat, pulling it out with a wisp of gray cursed energy residue.

The three bodies fell to the ground almost simultaneously.

Mashiro flicked the bits of food off her knife and continued walking.

But unsurprisingly, another cyborg arrived.

Another large group; it seems that after Gojo Satoru was sealed away, the remaining people were also transformed.

They poured out from both sides of the corridor at the same time, blocking both the front and back.

Mashiro stopped, looked around, and then sighed.

We can't expend too much spell power now, so we can only waste a little time.

Her eyes narrowed, and white magical energy began to emanate from Cong Yu's blade.

She walked forward first, and the blade flashed, drawing a horizontal line in front of her. The cyborg at the front was cut in half at the waist.

Then he immediately turned around and attacked from behind, with another blade flashing behind him.

Two flashes of light cleared out the enemies at both ends, leaving piles of wreckage on both sides of the corridor, with gray powder drifting in the air.

She walked through the pile of wreckage, and Cong Yu returned to her body.

She quickened her pace and arrived at the platform on the fifth basement level.

The automatic ticket gate was smashed and deformed, with fragments of the gate scattered all over the ground.

The sign on the wall fell down and broke in two; the writing on it was no longer legible.

Abandoned trains were parked on the tracks on both sides of the platform. The train bodies were dented in several places by something, the windows were shattered, and glass shards covered the edge of the platform.

These are not unusual phenomena; what is truly unusual is the extremely hot air here.

It's not a normal high temperature; there's clearly a heat source continuously radiating heat.

The air was filled with a familiar, sulfurous smell.

With each step forward, the temperature rises a little.

A thin layer of sweat seeped from Zhenbai's forehead, and the back of his clothes was slightly damp with sweat, clinging to his skin.

She walked to the center of the platform.

At the end of the platform, the vending machine had been melted into a twisted lump of metal, with molten liquid still dripping from its surface.

The bench next to it was burned down to its metal frame, the GG lightbox on the wall was warped by the high temperature, and the posters inside were charred black.

The old acquaintance of Zhenbai, Louhu, was standing next to the pile of molten metal.

With each breath, the plug in his ear exhaled a thin stream of warm air, and his single eye reflected the embers still burning around him.

When he saw Mashiro walk in, his one eye darted around and fixed its gaze on Mashiro.

"Hey kid, long time no see."

Mashiro stopped a dozen steps away from him, and Congyu gently held her hand.

She wouldn't mind if the other party started by spouting trash talk.

"Who are you?" she asked him, feigning confusion. "I'm sorry, I can't remember the weak person's name."

"You bastard... I'm Louhu!"

Lou Hu's face instantly turned ugly, and he clenched his fists tightly.

"Oh, Louhu." Mashiro nodded. "I remember the one I cut in two."

She shrugged, her tone dismissive: "You should have said it was the one that got cut in half earlier, why did it take you so long to figure it out?"

Lou Hu's eyes were wide open, almost bursting, but he still managed to suppress the rising anger within him.

He smirked: "You're only good at talking now."

"Are you all alone here?" Mashiro looked around but didn't see any other spirits.

Was it on a higher floor? She didn't queue on every floor when she came down.

"Hmph, I'm enough to deal with you on my own." Louhu looked at Mashiro, who was looking around nervously, and mocked, "Without Gojo Satoru's protection, I could kill you with one hand."

Mashiro looked away and stared at him: "Do you know that Masato is dead?"

Louhu's one eye widened for a moment, then he lowered his head, clenched his teeth, and a plume of smoke spewed from the top of the crater.

"I know, I sensed he was gone." His voice grew deeper. "It was Xia Youjiegan, wasn't it?"

"right."

"That bastard." Louhu's fingers tightened, and she said bitterly, "I never trusted him. He's too naive."

He looked at Mashiro, who had raised a knife in front of him, sparks rising from her body.

Flames from the crater erupted from time to time, shooting out from overhead.

"The real person is dead, Hanami is dead. We cursed spirits have been hunted by you sorcerers from the very beginning." He paused, "but we were not born to be killed."

Louhu's cursed power surged forth. "You've finished speaking, brat. You're about to die."

Mashiro didn't answer; saying more wouldn't make a difference given their differing stances.

All they could do was fight with all their might to kill the other.

"You seem to have forgotten one thing."

Mashiro gripped Murasame with both hands, the blade gleaming silver in the embers of the platform. "You're the challenger!"

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