"But if there are too many enemies, or if their attack methods are too varied, then it will be troublesome."

She mentally assessed the strengths and weaknesses of her abilities, and after a while, she came to her senses and took out the 50,000 yen she had just received.

"My first pot of gold, though not much, is enough to cover my food and lodging for the next few days." Mashiro pondered how to use the money.

"Clothes and a cell phone are necessities, and," Mashiro looked down and sniffed herself, "I smell awful and I feel sticky. I need to find a place to stay."

She got up and stepped back into the night.

......

The 24-hour supermarket in Shibuya is lit by a cold, white light.

Mashiro pushed her shopping cart, weaving between the shelves. It was the dead of night, and the supermarket was only filled with a few office workers buying coffee and convenience store clerks. No one gave her a second glance.

She first picked out two sets of relatively inexpensive clothes, pants, shoes, and socks, in black, as they are more resistant to getting dirty.

I also grabbed a baseball cap; my face is too conspicuous, so I wanted to cover it up as much as possible.

Then I went to the food section and saw the bento boxes that only a bird could eat, so I gritted my teeth and bought three of them, along with bottled water and a large sports bag.

When she passed the toiletries section, she stopped and bought some toiletries, all in the smallest packages for easy carrying.

At checkout, the cashier was a middle-aged woman who looked tired. She scanned the items expressionlessly and announced the amount:

"Twenty-one thousand yen."

Masashi counted out the bills and handed them over, then took the change and the bulging shopping bag.

When she left the supermarket, she had a heavy backpack on her back, but her wallet was half empty.

"I still have 29,000 left..." she calculated. "I need to find a cheap place to stay, and I can only buy a phone tomorrow."

Hotels are out of the question; she has no identification and is too young. An overnight stay at an internet cafe is possible, but those places are crowded and unsuitable for someone like her who needs to conceal a knife.

She remembered a place she had seen when she passed by before.

A capsule hotel, tucked away in a back alley on the edge of Shibuya. The sign is old, the lighting is dim, and a sign hangs at the entrance that reads "Open 24 hours, 3000 yen per night".

Mashiro pushed open the door and went in. The receptionist was a bald, middle-aged man who was looking down at his phone. Hearing the doorbell ring, he looked up, saw a silver-haired little girl, and paused for a moment.

"Little girl, you've come to the wrong place."

"Accommodation, single stay." Mashiro placed three thousand yen on the front desk, her face down and her hat brim pulled low.

The man glanced at the money, then looked her over: "You...alone?"

"Ah."

Do you have an ID card?

"No."

The man frowned: "Young lady, we have rules here—"

"Double it." Mashiro interrupted him, then took out three more thousand-yen bills and gently pressed them next to the stack of banknotes from before.

This is a necessary expense.

Mashiro suppressed a pang of heartache.

The man was silent for a few seconds, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the banknotes and her low-hanging hat brim. Finally, he reached out and gathered the money into the drawer, taking out a key: "Room 307, the bathroom is at the end of the first floor. Check-out time is 10:00 AM."

"Thank you."

Mashiro took the keys, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked up the narrow stairs.

The capsule room was exactly what it seemed, measuring about two meters long, one and a half meters wide, and no more than two meters high. Inside, there was only a thin mat, a blanket, and a small shelf.

But for Mashiro at this moment, that was enough.

She tidied up her backpack, ate three bento boxes, picked up a set of clean clothes and toiletries, and headed to the bathroom.

The bathroom was a public one, but it was three in the morning, so she was alone. She locked the door and turned on the hot water.

Warm water flowed over the body, washing away blood and sweat.

She looked down at the wounds on her body; the scabs were slightly itchy as the water washed over them, a sign of healing.

Her adaptability not only works in combat, but also makes her recover much faster than the average person.

She carefully washed her body and hair; now that she was such a lovely girl, she should be even cleaner.

After washing up, she stood in front of the mirror, quietly gazing at the silver-haired girl reflected within.

With a lovely face, silver hair and red eyes, and skin so white it was almost translucent, the dharma wheel on her head added an otherworldly beauty.

“Kujou… Mashiro.” She raised her hand and gently touched the mirror, whispering her name, then smiled softly, “It’s quite a nice name.”

She didn't care too much about becoming a girl; looking at her cute appearance made her happy.

Could this also be a result of adaptation?

Mashiro pondered for a moment, dried herself off, changed into clean clothes, and stuffed her dirty clothes into a plastic bag.

Forget it, I don't want to think about it anymore. The worst outcome is just that the pilot crashes the plane.

Mashiro gave up on investigating further and returned to her room humming a song softly.

The room was small, but she wasn't tall either; at 144 cm, she could lie down easily, with Cong Yu within reach, ready to be pulled out at any time.

She closed her eyes, but didn't fall asleep immediately, her mind wandering as she considered her future direction.

The accumulation of curse power is too slow. Cong Yu can absorb the curse power that dissipates when a cursed spirit dies, but the amount is far too small.

At this rate, to advance to level two, it's estimated that we'll need to deal with a dozen or so level three cursed spirits.

"It's too inefficient..." she murmured, then sighed.

But there was no better way at the moment, so she turned over and gradually drifted off to sleep.

The chirping of birds and the sounds of other guests outside the door woke Mashiro. She glanced at the clock in the room: seven in the morning.

Her body had almost fully recovered; the wounds had mostly healed, leaving only faint red marks. She moved her limbs and felt quite good.

Check-out time was 10:00, but she didn't plan to stay long.

She packed her things, slung her backpack over her shoulder, hung the raincoat around her waist, used her coat to cover herself, put on her hat, and waited until the noise in the corridor gradually disappeared before she left the room.

When I left the capsule hotel, the receptionist had been replaced by a young female employee. I only glanced at her and didn't ask any questions.

Mashiro stepped into Shibuya in the early morning.

Early risers were already out on the streets. Office workers hurried by with their briefcases, students walked toward the bus station in twos and threes, and breakfast shop staff cleaned the entrance.

She found a coffee shop, bought a breakfast set meal including coffee and bread, and sat by the window to eat while observing the outside world.

At this time, the concentration of cursed energy in the air is much lower than at night. Most cursed spirits lurk in the shadows, waiting for nightfall, but there are always exceptions.

She saw a fly's head crawling slowly on the side of a building across the street. Further away in the small park, there was a faint reaction of a level-three cursed spirit.

They're all too ordinary; there will be window treatment.

The so-called "window" is a kind of monitoring organization in the world of sorcery, responsible for searching for information on sorcerer spirits and assigning and formulating missions.

It is mainly composed of people who can see the spirits of the curse but have weak curse power and no spells.

After finishing the last bite of bread and drinking her coffee, Mashiro got up and left.

I went to the mobile phone store and spent 10,000 yen on a second-hand phone. I didn't have much money left.

But that's not the point right now.

"Alright, we've finished eating and drinking, it's time to start the hunt."

Thinking about the cursed power he could absorb after removing the cursed spirit, Mashiro licked his lips and revealed an excited smile.

Chapter 5 Lawyers and Maxims

She left the station and walked westward.

There was a strong magical reaction there last night; we can go check it out today.

At 10 a.m., Mashiro arrived at an old commercial district in the western suburbs of Tokyo.

Most of the buildings here were built twenty or thirty years ago and are now largely abandoned. The streets are deserted, with few pedestrians, and the concentration of curse energy is significantly higher than in central Shibuya.

She stopped in front of an abandoned office building.

There was a level-two cursed spirit in the building, its aura murky and carrying a rotten smell.

Although she was at a level that only a master like Fushiguro Megumi could barely contend with, she was still full of confidence.

"This one will do."

She gripped the hilt of Cong Yu's knife and walked into the building.

The battle lasted for twenty minutes.

The cursed spirit was a corpse-type creature with a festering body that could spray corrosive pus and extend tentacles from its wounds to entwine itself.

Mashiro initially suffered a setback when pus sprayed onto her left arm, causing a large area of ​​her skin to ulcerate instantly. The pain was so intense that she almost dropped her knife.

But instead of retreating, she charged forward to meet the attack.

Click-clack.

Let the pus spray onto your body again and again, and let the tentacles wrap around your limbs again and again.

Adapt, adapt, adapt.

When she was sprayed with pus for the tenth time, she felt the corrosive pain had lessened by 70%. The tentacles' grip also seemed weak; she could break free with a little effort.

Then, draw the knife.

As the rain swept across the corpse's neck, the cursed spirit collapsed, turning into black smoke that was absorbed by the rain. Mashiro felt her cursed power increase again.

“Level 2 curse spirits can indeed absorb more curse power,” she estimated. “To reach level 2, about seven or eight of these would be enough.”

She can now exorcise level two cursed spirits on her own, which means she has combat power at the level of Fukuro Megumi.

"How about we go to Sendai and make contact with Itajitsugi? It's about time."

She pondered this as she stepped out of the abandoned office building; the sunlight was rather harsh.

The festering wound on her left arm was healing, but the new skin was very tender and turned slightly red when exposed to sunlight. She pulled down her sleeve to cover it and continued walking.

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