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

A normal person's heartbeat frequency is regular, but now her heart is synchronizing with the vibration frequency of the cursed spirit.

She is actively adjusting and can no longer feel the pain from the shock.

Nanami leaped down from the steel frame, his short sword slashing through the water where the cursed spirit was, attempting to interrupt its attack.

But the cracks in the water closed in an instant, and the magical power of the slash was dissipated by the water layer, failing to reach the core.

"It's not working, Kujo, it's back again!" Nanami shouted.

The second wave wasn't just a sound wave; it also included a water-controlling technique, with the emerging water droplets forming a water tornado that surrounded her.

The rapidly spinning water, carrying sand and iron filings, enveloped her entirely in the center of the whirlpool.

The water blades cut through the skin, sand and iron filings burrowed into the flesh, and sound waves acted directly on the bones through the water medium, sending a sharp pain deep into the bone marrow.

But it was too late; the Falun had stopped turning.

I've gotten used to it.

Mashiro opened her eyes.

The waterspout was still spinning, but neither water, sound waves, nor anything else could cause her any harm.

She raised her hand, and Cong Yu was drawn.

“Your technique,” ​​Mashiro grinned, every word clearly audible, “I accept it.”

With a burst of speed, he passed through the vortex and appeared before the cursed spirit.

It wanted to make one last struggle, and its big mouth was preparing to launch a final attack, but a sudden jet of water hit it, interrupting its attack.

"It's over. Fall into eternal sleep."

The rain slashed down, cutting into the translucent body and tearing through its defenses. The cursed spirit's body swelled violently, countless bubbles bulging on its surface before exploding from the inside.

Water splashed high into the air, but not a single drop landed on Shiro; it had learned both water control and sound wave techniques.

Tide Sounds - Purification.

The Murasaki Blade was burning hot, its light swirling, and the curse power of a level one cursed spirit was transmitted into Mashiro's body.

Mashiro sensed the changes within her body; her total magical power had increased significantly, allowing her to fully enter the realm of a first-level sorcerer.

There are some new changes that are not yet ready to be studied.

"The difficulty is so-so, it doesn't really interest me." She looked up at Nanami and said, "I can handle the next level one mission by myself."

Nanami sheathed his sword, walked to her side, and looked down at the clothes she was wearing that were riddled with holes: "...Do you have to ruin a whole set of clothes every time you go on a mission?"

"Add a budget for clothing next time."

"I was just kidding."

“I’m serious.” Mashiro sheathed Murasame, looked down and picked up the sleeve that was hanging on her arm with only a few threads connecting it. “This time I need to wear an extra pair of pants.”

"I'll talk to the window for you this afternoon." Nanami looked at the tiny, scabbed wounds on her arm and remained silent for a moment. She always learned something new after each mission; her learning ability was terrifying.

"How precise is the water control?" he asked.

"Judging from the water volume, that water ball just now could form a needle. We'll have to try again for a larger one." Mashiro raised her hand, and the water on her clothes condensed into a water ball. "We should be able to control more at the beach or in the rain, but we need to test it in real combat."

Nanami looked at the water sphere and asked, "Is it just water control, or does it also control sound waves?"

"Together, that cursed spirit can make water vibrate at high frequencies." Mashiro waved her hand, and the water sphere dispersed into mist, refracting a small rainbow in the sunlight. "However, I can only use it to control water for now. I still need to practice to achieve cutting."

“That’s enough.” Nanami pushed up his glasses. “On the battlefield, having more skills means having more chances of survival. Your learning ability is the strongest I’ve ever seen.”

Masashi pulled at her dry collar and nodded with satisfaction. "At least it dried the clothes."

Nanami silently glanced at his still-dripping suit. "Is this service not offered?"

"I won't provide it; you have to figure it out yourself. That's what reliable adults do."

As she spoke, she looked around the warehouse and used a water control technique to drain all the water from inside.

The warehouse was restored to its original state, with an inspection door tightly closed beside it, but a flashlight lay fallen in front of the door.

“He’s still alive. He must have been swept into the pipes,” Mashiro walked over, squatted down, and picked up a flashlight. “His magical energy hasn’t disappeared; it’s just been isolated by the water.”

Nanami helped her push open the inspection door leading to the underground pipes. Behind the door was a staircase extending downwards, with the smell of seawater filling the air, and a faint response coming from deep within.

Mashiro turned to look at Nanami. "He's not dead yet."

“I’ll go down.” Nanami took off his suit jacket, folded it neatly, and placed it on the dry steps. He rolled up his sleeves. “You stay up here to help. The pipe space is too narrow; two people can’t move at the same time.”

"Don't you need me to go down?"

“I didn’t even have to lift a finger this time.” After saying that, Nanami walked down the steps into the underground area.

Mashiro stood at the entrance of the pipe and watched him disappear into the darkness, then looked down at the flashlight in her hand.

Then he turned around and sat down, placing Cong Yu across his lap, and slowly drew circles on his lap with his fingers, waiting.

A few minutes later, Nanami helped a young man with a broken leg up from the pipe.

He was soaking wet, covered in seaweed and mud, and leaning on Nanami's shoulder for support. His face was pale but he was still relatively lucid. He paused for a moment when he saw Mashiro sitting by the puddle.

Despite his tattered clothes and wounds, he remained calm and composed.

This little girl, who looked about twelve or thirteen years old, also participated in the mission and experienced an even more brutal battle than him.

"Th-thank you." His voice was hoarse; he had swallowed a lot of seawater and was trapped in the darkness, so he couldn't speak a complete sentence.

Mashiro took the raindrop from his knees and put it back in his waistband. He stood up and looked at the simple splint on his leg. It seemed that Nanami had made it from below.

"Can you walk?"

"can."

"That's fine then." She nodded and handed him the flashlight. "I've retrieved the flashlight for you."

The young man took the flashlight, lowered his head, and remained silent for a moment. "I thought I was going to die here."

Mashiro had already turned and was walking towards the warehouse door when she heard this. She stopped and looked back. Her red eyes lit up slightly. "The message you delivered is very important. Go back and take good care of your injuries."

She continued walking out, each step leaving wet footprints on the ground.

Nanami helped the young man to sit down by the outer wall of the warehouse, took out his phone to contact the dispatch of a support vehicle, and after hanging up, dialed Gojo Satoru's number to give a brief explanation of the mission's completion.

Mashiro, who was standing nearby, walked up to the vending machine and bought two cans of latte, handing one to Nanami who had just walked over.

Nanami took it and glanced at the label on the jar: "Sweet."

"The sweet ones taste better."

Nanami didn't say anything, pulled the tab and took a sip, while Mashiro leaned against the vending machine and slowly drank as well.

A sea breeze blew, lifting a few strands of her silver hair, which she brushed aside.

“Water control, sound waves,” Nanami suddenly spoke up. “How many spells do you have now? Have you counted them yourself?”

Mashiro didn't answer with a specific number, saying, "I didn't count, just enough is fine."

“Enough.” Nanami repeated the word, accurately tossing the empty can into the trash can. “But your learning method is too dangerous. You have to observe closely in battle every time, exposing yourself to the enemy’s firepower. No matter how fast you understand, always being at the forefront and getting hit is not a long-term solution.”

Mashiro glanced at him and said, "Don't you understand the mindset of the strong?"

"Fine, fine, I have a weakling mentality." Nanami didn't continue the topic.

He recalled what Gojo Satoru had said on the phone and relayed it to Mashiro: "Gojo asked me to tell you that he wants you to demonstrate the abilities you've learned, and that he's waiting to see your mission report."

“Let him write it himself.” Mashiro threw the empty can into the trash can. “Tell him that if he wants to see the demo, he has to bring the report in exchange.”

After saying that, she turned and left, her back casting a long shadow in the midday sun.

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Since I update around 8 words every day, please leave some comments, dear readers. I don't want to write single-player games, meow.

Hope you enjoy watching!

Chapter 24 Teaching (4k)

By the time I got back to the apartment, it was completely dark.

Mashiro stood in the entryway for a moment. After the Chaoyin mission was over, she used a water control technique to dry her clothes and hair, but the salt remained.

The collar felt rough and grainy when it rubbed against the back of my neck, and the cuffs were just as uncomfortable against my wrists.

I can't stand it, I can't stand it for even a second longer.

She quickly went to the bathroom, stripped herself naked, and threw her clothes into the laundry basket.

She turned on the shower, and the hot water sprayed from the showerhead onto her head, flowing down her silver hair over her shoulders and back.

The skin was washed clean by the water, and the salt in the hair dissolved in the hot water and was then washed away.

She closed her eyes and stood there for a long time, motionless, purely enjoying herself.

The bathroom was soon filled with steam, and the condensation on the mirror grew thicker and thicker. She took a deep breath and relaxed completely.

Mashiro tilted her head and pulled her hair down to her chest to look at the ends. She noticed that her hair had grown back. It was shoulder-length when it was cut by the water blade that morning, but now it was almost up to her shoulder blades.

She squeezed out her newly bought shower gel, which smelled of mandarin oranges.

The last time I went to a convenience store with Kugizaki, she said this smelled good. She said it didn't matter, but she still bought it.

All the wounds from the previous battles on her body have disappeared, and the dozens of cuts on her arms from the water blades are now completely gone, not even the shallowest traces can be found.

She raised her arm to look closer. The skin covered by foam was smooth and intact. Her fingertips traced the deepest wound from before, and the texture was no different from the surrounding skin.

After the upgrade, her body seemed to have undergone some changes. She closed her eyes and sensed it; her physical fitness had been comprehensively improved.

I'll go to the vocational college for a thorough test tomorrow. For now, I'll continue enjoying my hot bath.

When she came out of the bathroom, she was wrapped in a bath towel, and her hair was wrapped in a hand towel. Even though the towel was pressing down on her silver hair, a few strands still stuck out from the edges and clung to the wet nape of her neck.

The dripping water gathered into a small puddle at her feet. She raised her hand, and the water in her hair was quickly drawn out, forming a fist-sized ball in her palm. Within seconds, her silver hair went from being soaked to being fluffy and dry, with a small tuft of hair sticking up at the ends.

She casually tossed the water balloon into the sink, then looked at herself in the mirror.

The silver hair was very fluffy after it was completely dry, with the ends sticking outwards and a few strands standing up on top.

She reached out and pressed down, but the few strands of hair bounced back. She tried several times but gave up.

Damn it, this mere hair dares to openly challenge its owner's authority in front of the mirror. I'll let you off this time.