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

At 1 p.m., Mashiro bought fried noodles, bread, and bottled water from a roadside stall on a shopping street and ate them while sitting on a park bench.

There weren't many people in the park. A few elderly people were playing chess in the distance, and a mother was pushing a stroller past.

She ate her bread, her gaze sweeping over her surroundings.

Then, she saw someone.

A man in his twenties or thirties, dressed in a simple suit and carrying a briefcase, was sitting on a bench not far away, looking down at a document.

He looked at it intently, his brows slightly furrowed, occasionally making a mark with his pen.

Mashiro's gaze lingered on his face for a few seconds.

That face... looks familiar.

She searched her memory.

Comics, plot, characters...

She remembered.

The sun shines brightly.

The lawyer who awakened his magic in the cycle of death and destruction.

Right now, he hasn't awakened his magic yet; he's just an ordinary person.

Mashiro continued eating her bread, but her gaze remained fixed on it.

Hiromi Hiraka seemed to have encountered a problem. He put down the documents, rubbed his temples, and sighed.

Then he looked up and met Mashiro's gaze.

The two stared at each other for a few seconds.

Hiromi Hirakawa was taken aback for a moment, then gave her a professional, gentle smile and nodded slightly. Mashiro expressionlessly looked away and continued eating her yakisoba bread.

But Hiromi Hinoki didn't seem to intend to end this chance encounter so easily.

He put away the documents, stood up, straightened the hem of his suit jacket, and then walked towards Mashiro.

Mashiro didn't look up, but the hand holding the bread tightened slightly.

"Excuse me." Hiromi Higurashi stopped two steps away from the bench, his voice gentle and polite. "I noticed you've been sitting here alone for a while. I apologize if I'm being presumptuous, but you look... as if you need help?"

Mashiro slowly swallowed the bread in her mouth and looked up.

Upon closer inspection, Hiromi Nichisha appears younger than in the manga, but fine lines have already appeared around his eyes.

Thirty-six years old, a public defense lawyer—that's his current identity. His suit was an inexpensive ready-made one, but it was ironed perfectly, and his leather shoes had worn edges but were clean.

He exudes a serious, almost rigid, air about him.

It was a role she respected.

It's a character she likes.

Mashiro suppressed her excitement at meeting a character from the original work and tried to answer in a calm tone: "No need."

"Is that so?" Seeing that Mashiro didn't leave immediately, Hiroshi's gaze lingered on her for a moment, from her obviously oversized baseball cap to her slightly tattered black tracksuit, the unnatural bulge at her waist, and the several shallow scabs on her bare wrists.

“If you encounter any difficulties, you can contact social welfare organizations, or…” He paused, took out a business card from his briefcase, and handed it over with both hands.

"I am a lawyer. Although I mainly handle criminal defense cases, I also have some knowledge of laws related to the protection of minors. If you need legal advice, you can contact me. The first consultation is free."

The business card was simple, with white background and black lettering, containing only the name, affiliation, and contact information.

Mashiro looked at the business card but didn't take it immediately.

A gentle breeze blew through the park, and the laughter of children drifted from afar.

“Attorney Hiromi Nichisha.” She read the name from the business card in a very soft voice.

"Yes." Hiromi Nichisha maintained the posture of handing out his business card.

Mashiro finally reached out and took it. The business card still had a faint scent of paper and felt very substantial.

She stared at the words for two seconds, then looked up at Hiromi Ryukyu.

"Do you believe in the rules?" she suddenly asked.

Hiromi Nichisha paused for a moment, then replied seriously, "As a legal professional, I believe that rules are the foundation for maintaining the operation of society."

"What if the rules themselves are flawed?" Mashiro continued. "If the rules protect people who shouldn't be protected and punish people who shouldn't be punished, what would you do?"

This question clearly went beyond ordinary pleasantries. Hiromi Hitsugaya straightened up, frowned slightly, but still thought carefully before answering: "The legal system itself has a mechanism for correction. If injustice is found in the rules, it can be corrected through various means such as legislative procedures, judicial interpretations, and the accumulation of precedents. This is precisely one of the significances of the work of legal professionals."

A very standard answer.

The answer is very obvious.

A slight smile curved at the corners of Mashiro's lips.

"Is that so?" She put the business card in her pocket and stood up from the bench. She only reached Hiroki Nichisha's chest, but the way she looked up at him was unreadable to him.

“Attorney Nissan, you’re a good person,” she said. “In this world, good people often live very tiring lives.”

Mashiro understood that this person was the type who would go to great lengths for the sake of justice, and her advice might not be effective.

Hiromi Hiraka opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but Mashiro didn't give him the chance.

"It's good that you believe in the rules. But one day, you will encounter dilemmas that the rules cannot resolve. You will encounter crimes that cannot be measured by legal provisions. You will encounter enemies who stand in the loopholes of the rules and laugh at you."

Her voice was calm, and her eyes were straightforward, which made Nichisha continue to listen attentively.

“When that time comes, remember one thing,” Mashiro pressed down on his hat, his crimson eyes appearing particularly deep in the shadow of the brim, “Rules are tools, not shackles. When you truly want to judge something, you need more than just legal provisions.”

She raised her hand and pointed to the location of Hiroshi Ryoma's heart.

"It's about having the awareness to make the rules work for you."

After saying that, she stopped looking at Hiromi's expression and turned to leave.

Hiromi Higurashi stood there, watching her receding figure, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper. He subconsciously raised his hand to his chest, where the faint touch of her fingertips seemed to linger.

"Rules are tools, and the awareness of judgment..." He repeated these two sentences in a low voice, feeling that there was some important information hidden in these words, but he had no clue. "Who is that girl?"

Mashiro had already left the park and rejoined the flow of people on the street.

She touched the business card in her pocket, her fingertips brushing over the four characters "日车宽见" (Riche Kuanjian).

"That's all I can do," she murmured to herself. "The rest is beyond my control."

She had no idea how much impact those words would have in the future.

Perhaps Hiromi will forget this strange silver-haired little girl tomorrow, or perhaps these words will leave something in his heart, taking root and sprouting on the day the return of death arrives.

For now, she's had a blast being a riddle teller.

Mashiro looked up at the western sky. The afternoon sun was a bit too bright. She pulled up her hat brim and continued walking.

There are also cursed spirits that need to be exorcised.

We still need to accumulate strength.

She is still too weak.

Chapter 6 Learning Techniques

After leaving the park, Mashiro didn't linger and went into Shibuya Station.

Sendai is 300 kilometers to the northeast, less than two hours away by Shinkansen. But the price of a ticket at 10,000 yen is too high.

"I'm broke." She stood in front of the ticket machine, looking at the scrolling ticket prices, and clicked her tongue softly. "I need to make money."

She counted the cash in her wallet. After deducting the money she had set aside for tonight's accommodation and food, she couldn't even afford half a Shinkansen ticket. Night buses were cheaper, but they still cost several thousand yen, and they departed much earlier.

"The most urgent tasks are to obtain mobile funds and improve my spell power, reaching level two or even level one as soon as possible," she pressed her waist, where Cong Yu sat quietly in her scabbard. "Only then can I have the ability to utter insightful remarks when I come into contact with the core level."

When you're not strong enough, what you say isn't profound wisdom, but rather empty boasting.

Only the strong have the right to utter famous quotes.

Mashiro stepped out of the station and began to sense the surrounding magical energy again.

The density of cursed spirits in Shibuya is still very high, but after the battles last night and this morning, she has lost interest in level three cursed spirits.

It's too inefficient, absorbs too little magical power, and the benefits of adaptation are also limited.

"We need to find someone at level two or above, or... take on commissions, but there are no channels. Contacting college graduates or the supernatural is too risky now."

She touched the business card of Hiromi Nichisha in her pocket and sighed, "I can't just ask Hiromi for money right after finishing the riddle-solving job, can I?"

Borrowing money is a sign of weakness!

Since there's no hope for the commission for now, let's continue hunting.

She rushed northwards where the cursed energy was stronger. Time was of the essence; the exact moment Itadori swallowed the finger wouldn't change, and she had to reach Sendai before then, at least to intervene shortly after the incident.

Before that, she needed more magical power, a stronger body, and most importantly—

Travel expenses.

......

At 3 p.m., Mashiro stood in front of an abandoned apartment building. The building was on the list of buildings to be demolished. The residents had long since moved out, the windows were broken, and the walls were mottled.

Mashiro released her senses, but was slightly taken aback.

There was not just one cursed spirit in the building, but at least three level-two cursed spirits, their auras intertwined and wary of each other.

"Living in groups?" She was somewhat surprised. Most cursed spirits are solitary and rarely gather in groups unless they have a top-level leader.

But it doesn't matter, she needs magical power, and they happen to have it.

More importantly, three level-two units, representing three different attack methods, can enrich the sample database she can adapt to.

There are risks, of course, but she's confident she won't die even if she takes on three level 2 monsters now.

It's just a little more painful, but she's gotten used to it these past two days, or rather, she's adapted to it.

Mashiro gripped the hilt of Murasame's sword and stepped into the dimly lit stairwell. She made no attempt to conceal her footsteps; her magical energy emanated from her body, serving as both a probe and a provocation.

Almost the instant she stepped into the third-floor corridor, the balance was broken, and the three cursed spirits revealed their true forms.

She glanced at them and saw a vengeful spirit, a woman from the gap, and a shadow dog.