Chapter 4 - Grade One Assignment

Dark grey clouds began to gather overhead, slowly swallowing what was left of the daylight. The wind had shifted. Cold. Heavy. Wrong. The three students stood at the edge of the abandoned district, the silhouette of the warehouse looming ahead of them like something forgotten by time—and deliberately left that way.

Ren rolled his shoulders once, eyes scanning the structure. Kikyo adjusted her stance slightly, already alert, her expression sharper than before.

Ryu stepped forward, breaking the silence. “…Guys,” he said, pulling something from his pocket. “Put these on.” He held out three small communication earpieces. “We’re going in separate,” Ryu continued, distributing them. “Different angles. We don’t know how big this place is—or where the curse is hiding.” A brief pause.

“If anything goes wrong… we call it out immediately.” He placed his own earpiece in, clicking it into position. “No hesitation.” Ren accepted his without a word. Kikyo followed shortly after, slipping hers on with a quiet nod.

The air between them tightened slightly—the shift from preparation to action now complete. Then—Far above, on the rooftop of a distant building, Zion sat quietly at the edge. One leg resting loosely, the other bent, his gaze locked onto the warehouse below.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just watched. “…Don’t screw this up,” he murmured under his breath—not to them, but to the situation itself. His eyes narrowed slightly as Ryu stepped forward into the operation zone. Zion’s presence remained still.

“Let’s move!” Ryu’s voice cut through the comms. Without hesitation, all three split off, disappearing into their assigned routes. Ryu didn’t slow down. Didn’t check angles. Didn’t hesitate.

He pushed straight into the warehouse alone. The interior swallowed him almost immediately. Dust. Silence. Rotting structure.

His footsteps echoed faintly as he moved deeper, eyes scanning without stopping. Then he saw it—staircases leading downward, half-collapsed into shadow. His gaze sharpened slightly. “…Down there.” He stepped forward.

Each step creaked under pressure as he descended. The air grew heavier the deeper he went, colder too—like the building was losing its memory of warmth.

Ryu clicked his lighter open. A small flame sparked to life, cutting through the darkness in a tight orange glow. He kept moving. The last step. The moment his foot touched it—Everything broke. The world didn’t fade. It shifted. Ryu was no longer in the warehouse.

He was floating. Beneath him stretched a vast surface of still, black water—endless, unmoving, reflecting nothing above it. Around him rose something impossible.

A massive ribcage-like structure arched through the space, forming a cathedral of bone. Skulls and broken remains layered across it like discarded history. Cursed remnants clung to the structure like residue of something ancient and ongoing. The air felt… remembered. And at the center of it all— A throne. Broken. Weathered. Hollowed by time. Sitting on it was Kagemaru. Ryu froze.

Because it wasn’t just resemblance. It was him. Same face. Same body. Same presence. But refined. Older in spirit, if not in age. Kagemaru wore an old-style kimono, layered and worn like something from a forgotten era—something that didn’t belong in the modern world.

His posture was calm. Comfortable. Like he had been waiting for this moment longer than time itself should allow. His blood-red eyes lifted slowly toward Ryu. And smiled.

“It’s good to see you.” Kagemaru’s voice was calm—almost warm—as he rose from the broken throne. “Glad to finally see what my vessel looks like.”

He stepped down slowly from the pile of bones beneath him, each movement unhurried, as if time itself didn’t apply here. The crushed remains of curses and skeletons shifted softly under his feet, but he never looked down. Ryu’s eyes narrowed.

“…Kagemaru,” he muttered under his breath. His grip tightened slightly. “What is this place?” he demanded. “And what do you want?” Kagemaru paused. Then smiled.

“This place?” he repeated lightly, glancing around at the endless bone-structure cathedral and still black water below. “This is simply a space I made for myself.” A small shrug. “A place where I can think… uninterrupted.” He continued walking forward. “And what I want…”

His gaze lifted back to Ryu. “…is simple.” He stopped just a short distance away now. “I’d like to make a proposal.”

The air subtly tightened. “If you can survive five minutes of me trying to kill you…” A pause. “…then I’ll grant you something in return.”

His smile widened slightly. “Two minutes and thirty seconds.” Ryu’s expression shifted instantly. Kagemaru continued smoothly. “of me having….Control time,” he said. “Anytime. Anywhere.”

A beat. Then, almost casually— “And I won’t harm your friends.” Silence stretched across the bone-lit void. Kagemaru tilted his head slightly, watching him like this was already a concluded conversation. “…So,” he said softly, “do we have a deal?” Ryu hesitated for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he tried to process the weight behind the offer. “…What’s that ‘something’?” he asked cautiously. Kagemaru’s grin widened—slow, deliberate, almost entertained by the question itself.

“Glad you asked,” he replied smoothly. His tone dropped slightly, carrying a calm confidence that didn’t need volume to feel overwhelming. “I’ll grant you access to my cursed technique… and my Domain Expansion.” His eyes locked onto Ryu’s, the smile never fading. “…Temporary, of course.” “Fine… I accept your propos—”

Ryu’s words cut off instantly. Kagemaru moved. There was no buildup—no warning. Just motion. One moment he was standing still, the next he was already in front of Ryu.

“—Tch!” Ryu clicked his tongue as he jumped back just in time, the attack grazing past where his face had been a split second earlier. Red cursed energy flared to life around his fist as he stabilized his landing. “…Could’ve warned me!” he snapped.

His eyes flicked down for a fraction of a second. “Wait—why is it red now? It was black last time—”

Kagemaru dropped from above. Ryu barely twisted his body in time, the strike passing so close it tore the air beside him.

“That’s because I gave you a small portion of my cursed energy,” Kagemaru said casually, almost amused mid-combat. “And my cursed energy color is black.” He landed lightly, already turning back toward Ryu. The space between them tightened instantly.

Ryu exhaled sharply, flexing his hand as the red energy stabilized. “…So I’m using your power now?” he muttered. Kagemaru tilted his head slightly, smile returning. “No, You have your own Curse energy” he corrected.

Then—He moved again. This time faster. Ryu reacted instantly, throwing his arm up to block—BOOM.

The impact shoved him backward across the fractured ground of the void, skidding through bone fragments floating like debris in still water. Ryu clicked his tongue again, sliding to a stop mid-air. “…Okay,” he muttered, shaking out his arm. “So you’re not joking about the five minutes thing.”

Kagemaru stood where he was, hands loose at his sides, watching him like a teacher evaluating a mistake. “Of course I’m not,” he said calmly. “You agreed, didn’t you?” A pause. Then his smile sharpened. “Now survive.”

The air around him shifted—not explosively, but like pressure itself had been rewritten. Ryu felt it immediately. “…Alright then,” he said under his breath, lowering his stance as red cursed energy gathered tighter around his fist. “…Five minutes, huh?” His eyes narrowed.

“Hope you know I HAVE AN ASSIGNMENT TO DO!” Ryu shouted, already sprinting forward. “Don’t you worry about that!” Kagemaru appeared directly in front of him. There was no transition—just presence. His shin drove straight into Ryu’s chest with crushing force.

BOOM. Ryu was launched backward, slamming into a pile of bones as fragments scattered through the void. He coughed sharply, blood spilling from his mouth as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “…Tch,” he muttered, pushing himself up. “Why are you even saying that?” Kagemaru tilted his head slightly. “I say that because—” He vanished. Ryu’s eyes widened.

“—!” Kagemaru reappeared behind him instantly. Ryu barely twisted his body in time, narrowly avoiding a clean hit as the strike tore through the space beside his ribs.

“—because one century is one minute out there,” Kagemaru continued, as if the interruption never happened. His voice stayed calm.

Almost conversational. He kept moving forward—step after step—each one forcing Ryu back under pressure. “Now think,” Kagemaru said, his smile sharpening, “if one century is one minute outside…”

His eyes locked in. “…guess how long I’ve been in here?” A pause—just long enough for the weight to settle. “Remember,” he added softly, “one hundred and thirty-two years ago is when I made this place.”

Ryu didn’t immediately move. His eyes narrowed as he recalculated what he was hearing under the strain of the fight. “…So you’ve been stuck in here that entire time,” he said slowly, voice low, “while only minutes pass outside.”

Kagemaru’s smile didn’t fade. “It depends on your definition of ‘stuck,’” he replied calmly, continuing his advance.

“Jeez, you’re old!” Ryu blurted out. Kagemaru didn’t react verbally. He moved.

A blur of motion—no buildup, no hesitation—and his fist drove straight into Ryu’s chest. The impact didn’t just hit. It rang through the void like a bell made of bone.

Ryu’s body snapped backward, skidding across the floating surface as cracks of cursed energy spiderwebbed outward beneath him. He coughed sharply, air forced out of his lungs as he stabilized with one hand, boots dragging to slow himself down.

“…Tch—!” Ryu grit his teeth, forcing himself upright again. Kagemaru lowered his arm slightly, watching him with that same calm amusement.

“Two minutes left,” Kagemaru said lightly, almost like a reminder rather than a threat. The bone structure around them creaked faintly, as if responding to the escalation.

Ryu wiped the corner of his mouth, eyes narrowing as cursed energy flickered back around his hand—stronger this time, more controlled. “…Yeah,” he muttered, stance tightening. “I heard you.” He exhaled once.

Kagemaru didn’t pause. The moment Ryu stepped forward again, the pressure snapped back into place—he was already there. Another strike.

Ryu barely raised his guard in time, but the force still broke through, sending him sliding across the black water surface again. Ripples of bone-white energy spread outward in fractured rings.

“…Still standing,” Kagemaru said, almost impressed, as he straightened slightly. “Good.” Ryu forced himself up again, breathing heavier now, stance lower. “…Shut up,” he muttered, wiping his arm across his mouth. “I’m not done yet.”

Kagemaru tilted his head. “Of course you’re not,” he replied calmly. “You still think you’re fighting to win.” He stepped forward.

The air tightened again. “This isn’t a battle of strength,” Kagemaru continued, voice lowering slightly. “It’s a measure of how long you can stay you while I take pieces away.” Ryu’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve been hit worse,” he said flatly, cursed energy flaring tighter around his fists. Kagemaru smiled again. “Good,” he said softly. “Then show me.” He vanished from where he stood.

Ryu’s instincts screamed—He turned just in time to block, but the impact still folded his guard inward. The force pushed him back, heels skimming across the void. One minute left. The thought didn’t need to be said—it was just there, hanging in the tension between every breath. Ryu steadied himself mid-slide, forcing his body to stop. “…Fine,” he muttered.

His cursed energy changed. Denser. Sharper. Controlled. Kagemaru appeared again in front of him—but this time, Ryu didn’t retreat.

Their fists collided in the center of the void—force against force—sending a violent ripple through the black water beneath them. Bones in the distant structure shuddered faintly, not breaking, not reacting like something under strain… but acknowledging impact like a language it understood. Ryu didn’t back up this time. He pushed.

Kagemaru’s arm shifted slightly under the pressure—just enough to register interest. “…There it is,” Kagemaru murmured. Ryu grit his teeth. “I’m not playing your game anymore.”

Kagemaru leaned in slightly, voice calm against the clash. “No,” he agreed. “Now you’re starting to play mine properly.” The two locked for a brief moment longer. Then Kagemaru twisted—And everything shifted again as the next exchange began.

The clash broke suddenly. Kagemaru twisted his wrist, slipping Ryu’s guard for just an instant—and that was enough. A clean strike landed.

Ryu’s body was launched back across the void, skimming the surface of black water before he forced himself to halt, boots carving sharp trails through nothing as he stabilized. Silence followed. Not empty—charged.

Ryu exhaled slowly, shoulders rising and falling as he straightened again. His grip tightened, but his stance held.

Across from him, Kagemaru didn’t pursue immediately. He just watched. “…Good,” Kagemaru said at last, almost satisfied.

The bone-like expanse around them remained unchanged, endless, unbothered—like the fight had never been about time in the first place. Ryu wiped his mouth once, eyes locked forward. “…Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.”

“A deal is a deal” Kagemaru said as he snaps his finger, a Contract between the two has been made, Kagemaru gets two minutes and thirty-seconds of control time anytime anywhere, and Ryu gets Kagemaru’s Curse Technique and Domain.

Ryu’s vision snapped back into place like a severed connection reattaching. He stumbled—boots scraping hard against cold metal instead of the void. “…Huh—?” The air was different. Heavy. Damp. Metallic. He was no longer in Kagemaru’s domain.

Ryu stood on top of a massive underground pipe system, the surface wide enough to walk across, stretching deep into the darkness on both sides like veins beneath the city.

Below him: an endless industrial abyss of tunnels, rusted frameworks, and low mechanical hums that vibrated through the metal under his feet. Then he felt it. Presence. Slowly, his eyes lifted. Ahead of him stood a curse. Completely still.

White—entire body pale and seamless like unfinished stone. A single brown stripe ran from where an eye should have been, trailing down the side of its head, continuing along its neck, and wrapping around its entire left arm like a binding mark. No eyes. No face. Not even the suggestion of one.

Just absence where expression should exist. It didn’t move. It didn’t breathe. But it was aware. Ryu tightened his stance immediately, cursed energy flickering faintly around his hand again.

“…What the hell is this place now…” he muttered under his breath, eyes locked on the thing ahead of him. The silence below the city pressed in tighter.

“...So you’re the Grade One curse,” Ryu said quietly.

No response.

The curse stood completely still—white, hollow, faceless—like something that existed only because nothing had ever looked at it long enough to define it.

Ryu’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“…Weird.” A sharp clap echoed through the underground tunnel. Not from the curse. From inside him. The sound hit like a switch being flipped. Ryu’s body froze mid-breath.

Then it changed. His posture straightened unnaturally as control shifted. Cursed energy destabilized for a fraction of a second—then surged violently outward.

Black markings erupted across both sides of his face at once, jagged and ink-like, crawling from his neck up across his jaw and along his cheekbones in mirrored, unnatural symmetry. They framed his expression like something carved rather than drawn, spreading toward both temples. And both eyes shifted. Deep blood red.

Unstable. Focused. Heavy with intent that didn’t belong to him. Purple and black cursed energy began to pour outward from his body in slow, swirling clouds, distorting the air around him like pressure made visible. The underground tunnel seemed to shrink.

Not physically—intentionally. Like reality was being forced to acknowledge a stronger presence occupying it. Kagemaru exhaled through Ryu’s body slowly. “…Found it,” he said, voice calm—but no longer fully human. The faceless curse remained still.

Kagemaru tilted his head slightly. Both red eyes locked onto it. “…Let’s see what you are,” he added. And the space between them tightened. Kagemaru’s presence fully settled into Ryu’s body. The air tightened instantly. The underground tunnel didn’t change in size—but it felt like it had run out of room to exist properly.

A slow breath left his lips, controlled and unfamiliar in its calm. “…Still too restrained,” Kagemaru muttered through him. His hands lifted slightly.

Cursed energy surged outward in a compressed burst, and the remaining fabric on his upper body was torn apart by raw pressure alone—ripped away by force rather than touch, as if reality itself rejected anything unnecessary around him. His body was fully revealed. And the markings answered.

Jagged black streaks spread across his entire frame in mirrored patterns, crawling from his neck down his chest, across his arms, and wrapping around his torso like layered seals etched into flesh. The design was intricate and aggressive—almost ritualistic—like something ancient and predatory had finally surfaced from beneath the skin. On both sides of his face, the markings intensified, framing his blood-red eyes with sharp, unnatural symmetry.

His gaze changed with them. Heavier. Colder. Older. Black cursed energy began to pour off him in slow, swirling clouds, distorting the air around his shoulders and back like heat haze made manifest—warping space without breaking it.

The faceless Grade One curse remained still. Kagemaru tilted his head slightly. “…There we go,” he said quietly. Then his voice lowered. “Much better…” Kagemaru said. Before the tension could break—The ceiling gave way. Not slowly. Not gradually.

A section of the roof above the curse collapsed inward in a single, violent drop—concrete and steel folding under overwhelming force. Impact. The entire pipe system shuddered.

Dust and debris exploded outward as something slammed straight through the curse’s position. There was no struggle. No resistance. Just a brief, distorted moment—and then it was gone. Erased instantly.

Silence followed. A figure stood where it had been. Zion. He straightened from his landing, fragments of concrete sliding off his shoulders as the air settled around him. His presence alone stabilized the space, cutting through the lingering distortion like a blade.

“…Should’ve known,” Zion said calmly, brushing dust from his sleeve, “you’d try to take over the second I let you out of my sight.” His gaze lifted. Locked directly onto Kagemaru. “…Uncle.”

White cursed energy gathered in Zion’s palm—clean, controlled, almost silent as it condensed. He stepped forward into stance, posture grounded, precise—no wasted motion, no hesitation.

Across from him, black cursed energy coiled into Kagemaru’s hands, thicker, heavier—like something that didn’t flow so much as press outward. He rolled his shoulder once, settling into a stance that felt less practiced… and more remembered. The space between them tightened instantly.

Kagemaru’s lips curled into a slow grin. “…Well,” he said, voice low with amusement, “would you look at that.” His red eyes locked onto Zion’s. “Once again…”

The energy around them surged—white against black, control against dominance. “The Strongest Kaizen Sorcerer of Today…” A pause. His grin sharpened. “…versus the Strongest Curse in history.” Neither moved. But everything around them braced for impact.

In an instant—both moved. Zion vanished. Not a blur. Not a dash. Just gone. This isn’t like one hundred and thirty-two years ago… his thoughts sharpened mid-motion. He’s adapting faster… reading faster… The air snapped.

Zion reappeared directly in front of Kagemaru, arm already pulled back—no wind-up, no warning—his fist driving forward with full intent. Impact—Almost. Kagemaru caught his arm. His grip locked in, and in the same motion, his knee drove upward—then transitioned into a brutal gut kick that landed solid. Zion’s body lifted slightly before being launched backward, boots scraping violently across the pipe as he slid. Metal screamed under the friction.

Zion stopped himself. He raised his hand slowly, crossing his index and middle finger while the rest of his fist tightened. “…Compression Guard.” A faint smirk touched his face. Nothing happened. At least—nothing visible.

Kagemaru stared for half a second.Then—he smiled too. “…I see.” He vanished. Not retreating repositioning.

He reappeared behind Zion instantly, already mid-motion, his leg whipping forward in a precise, lethal kick aimed straight through Zion’s centerline. But—It stopped. Mid-air. Like it had collided with something that didn’t exist. “…What—”

The space in front of Zion refused to complete the interaction. Kagemaru’s leg hovered just a fraction away from contact—close enough to land, but unable to finish the strike. His eyes sharpened.

Without hesitation, cursed energy surged into his leg—black energy exploding outward, wrapping around it violently as he forced more output into the attack. The pressure intensified. The pipe beneath them began to crack.

Still—it wouldn’t connect. Zion didn’t move. “…Snap Expansion Strike.” The moment the words left his mouth—space inverted. The compressed boundary snapped outward violently.

Kagemaru’s own force—everything he had just committed—reversed direction at the point of failure. The kick didn’t land. It rebounded. Kagemaru’s body was launched backward instantly, tearing through the air before crashing into the rubble behind him, debris erupting outward on impact. Silence followed.

Zion lowered his hand slowly, rolling his shoulder once as if resetting. His eyes stayed locked forward. “…You can’t hit me,” he said calmly. A faint smirk formed. “…not while Compression Guard is active.”

Kagemaru let out a quiet chuckle, low and amused. “I had my fun…” he said, voice drifting like smoke. “Glad to see… you haven’t changed since then… dear nephew.” The air shifted.

The markings etched across Ryu’s body began to fade, peeling away like ink washed by rain. His eyes dulled back to normal, the cursed glow extinguishing in an instant. His hair settled, losing its distorted edge, returning to its natural state as if nothing had ever possessed him. Ryu staggered slightly, then his expression snapped into panic.

“I TOLD HIM NOT TO ATTACK ANYONE!” he barked, voice cracking with frustration. Zion walked forward slowly, eyes locked on him, calm—but sharp enough to cut. “You idiot…” Zion said flatly. “How did you let him take control?” Ryu clenched his jaw.

“It’s not that simple…” he replied. “We made a contract. He gets two minutes and thirty seconds of control… and in return, I get access to his cursed techniques and Domain.” A pause.

Then Ryu’s voice dropped, more tense. “The problem is… I don’t even know what his cursed technique is. Or what his Domain actually does.” The silence that followed felt heavier than the fight itself. Both Ren and Kikyo dropped down through the broken opening above, landing lightly on the cracked ground below.

Kikyo glanced around, hands on her hips. “Yo… what happened here?”

Ryu exhaled sharply, still tense, brushing debris off his shoulder. “Nothing good,” he muttered. “Almost got my ass kicked by that curse. Sensei Zion showed up just in time to bail us out.” He paused for a second, then added more quietly, “Barely.”

Kikyo’s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the scene… until they landed on Ryu’s torn shirt. Ren followed her gaze and blinked. Then a grin crept onto his face. “…What happened to your shirt, man?” Ren asked, letting out a short laugh.

Ryu looked down at himself, clearly annoyed. “Oh. That?” he said flatly. “Got ripped during the fight with the curse.” Kikyo raised a brow, unimpressed. “Uh-huh…” Ren snickered again, clearly not buying how casually Ryu said it, while the atmosphere of the destroyed area told a very different story.

Ryu exhaled through his nose, pushing himself upright as the tension in the air finally began to settle.

“Well… it’s time we should get going,” he said, glancing around at the wreckage one last time. “First assignment’s done… even if Sensei had to step in and kill it.”

His tone carried a mix of frustration and relief—like he was still processing how close things had been. Ren stretched his arms overhead, joints popping slightly. “Agreed.” Kikyo gave a light shrug, rolling her shoulders back. “Sameee.”

For a moment, all three just stood there—students still learning what it meant to survive in a world like this, where even a “first assignment” could spiral into something far worse. Zion remained a few steps behind them, silent as ever. His gaze lingered on the shattered ground, like he was reading something no one else could see.

Then he turned away. The wind shifted through the broken structure as the group began to walk out, leaving behind the aftermath of their first real encounter.