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

They attacked almost simultaneously, each with a different method of attack. Shiro slightly turned her body, allowing the vengeful spirit's penetrating attack to graze her left chest instead of her heart, but the icy, bone-chilling pain that pierced her internal organs still made her groan.

She raised her right arm to block the woman's invisible slash, but her arm was cut open by an invisible blade. The tearing pain came, and blood splattered. If she hadn't leaned back in time, her right arm would probably have been severed.

Before she could even turn around, she was attacked from below, and several deep, bone-revealing scratches appeared on her back, the blood instantly soaking the fabric of her clothes.

It hurts, it hurts a lot.

Why can't she adapt to the pain? Is it because the pain is useful to her?

But she had also grown accustomed to this pain. If she were to lose her strong will because of it, it would be no different from death.

"Again!" Mashiro shouted, ignoring her wounds, and picked up Murami to fight again, the Dharma Wheel above her head spinning wildly.

Each time their attack hits, its power diminishes.

Adapt, adapt, adapt.

When the vengeful spirit pierced her chest again, but she only felt a slight chill, she knew that she had adapted.

"Borrow it for a moment."

As Cong Yu was drawn from its sheath, a silver light flashed across the Wraith-Bound Spirit. Before it could even let out a scream, it turned into black smoke and was absorbed by the sword.

Mashiro felt her internal curse power surge suddenly.

“Very well.” She turned to the remaining two. “There’s nothing you can do. Just lie down and wait to die.”

The woman with the gap seemed to sense the danger, and opened her twisted mouth, unleashing an invisible spatial rift that slashed towards Mashiro.

Mashiro raised her left arm and took the hit head-on.

"呲-"

The skin was cut open, and bright red blood flowed out, but the wound was at least half as shallow as the last one.

That's all there is to it.

Mashiro chuckled. With a keen understanding of the situation, she grasped the trajectory, intensity, and composition of the magical power involved in the spatial cutting.

“I see.” She murmured, twirling the knife in her hand. “The cutting of space is essentially applying traction to the breakpoint of the cursed power at specific coordinates…”

She accelerated and sprinted forward.

The Gap Woman frantically unleashed rifts, creating countless spatial cuts that filled the narrow passageway.

The enemy fears me, I am driven mad.

Mashiro weaved through the cracks, her movements initially stiff, but as she dodged more and more of them, her body became able to predict their trajectory and easily avoid them.

She could even use her magical power to gently touch the weakest point of the crack, causing it to collapse prematurely.

"The more I adapt, the more I understand. I can even imitate other people's techniques!" Mashiro exclaimed with elation. "I never thought I could do this!"

This is an ability that Makuro doesn't have in the original work. It can only adapt to the methods of dealing with the spells, but Mashiro, who can understand the spells, can use the spells that he has adapted to!

“I’ve adapted.” She stopped in front of the woman in the gap, the Dharma wheel above her head ceasing its rotation. “I accept your spell.”

Then, space was cut, the woman's head flew up, and her body dissipated.

Cong Yu absorbed another portion of the curse power.

Finally, there was the Shadow Dog. This cursed spirit tried to escape, but Mashiro didn't give it the chance.

She had become accustomed to the rhythm of the shadow's movement, and the moment it emerged from the shadow in the corner, Cong Yu's knife tip was already waiting there.

"Don't spoil my fun, is it over already?" Cong Yu pierced through its head, and Zhenbai laughed arrogantly.

Three plumes of black smoke rose, and the corridor returned to silence.

Mashiro leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. She had at least twenty wounds on her body, varying in depth, with the most severe ones still bleeding.

But she could feel that the curse power within her body was almost twice as strong as before.

"Level two... it should be almost there." She estimated. "Moreover, it has developed preliminary resistance to spirit attacks, spatial cutting, and shadow movement."

As she gradually builds a basic database and absorbs more and more samples, she can deal with her enemies more easily.

She rested for five minutes until the bleeding from her wound had mostly stopped before dragging her tired body out of the apartment building.

As the sun sets, the sky gradually darkens.

Mashiro glanced at the time; it was 5 p.m. She needed food, rest, and to treat her injuries. Although they could heal on their own, the blood loss and pain were real.

She went into a convenience store, bought bandages, disinfectant, and the largest bento box, and sat on a park bench to begin treating her wound.

The stinging sensation during disinfection made her gasp, but she kept moving her hands. The bandage wasn't very neat, but it was secure enough.

After doing all that, she opened the bento box and began to eat heartily.

"If I don't earn any money today, I'll only have enough left for the last night's accommodation." She thought to herself as she ate, then pouted, "Ugh, how can I earn money?"

Mashiro didn't have much of a knack for making money in her previous life, and in this world, at the age of twelve, she couldn't even find a part-time job!

Fortunately, she has a strong ability to withstand pressure, which she has cultivated through daily online interactions with netizens.

"Thank you all. If I could still argue with you guys, I'd definitely hurl even harder." Mashiro hesitated, thinking about her current state, "Wouldn't that be too much of a reward for them?"

Stop overthinking!

After finishing her bento, just as she was about to continue dealing with the cursed spirits and look for any unlucky souls who had been attacked by them, an unexpected figure entered her field of vision.

"That's... Nanami?"

Chapter 7 Seven Seas Builders

The afterglow of the setting sun bathed the park in gold, and it also fell upon the figure passing by.

Seven Seas built people.

His name flashed through Mashiro's mind; she had finally seen him alive.

Nanami Kento stopped at the park entrance, looked around, and then his gaze settled on the girl who was picking up trash.

Mashiro stopped what she was doing and calmly met the other's gaze. Akame's emotions were not readily apparent in the shadow of her hat.

Nanami Kento moved again, walking towards Mashiro.

He pushed up his round-framed glasses, his gaze behind the lenses calmly scrutinizing Mashiro.

A strange roulette wheel overhead.

An arm wrapped in brand-new bandages, dark bloodstains and tears on a tracksuit, a sports backpack casually placed on a bench, covered in dust and suspicious dark stains, and a weapon at the waist that was still easily recognizable even though it was covered by a coat.

His gaze lingered on the weapon for half a second before returning to Shiro's face, which was covered in blood and dust. Her silver hair, slightly disheveled, peeked out from under her hat brim, and her bright red eyes were staring at him intently.

An unusual underage girl, covered in wounds, carrying weapons, and alone in the park.

Any adult with common sense would find this strange, but Nanami Kento clearly has a lot of common sense, and his common sense includes curse power, curse spirits, and sorcerers.

He didn't approach any closer, but stood a little distance away and greeted her calmly, "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," Mashiro replied, her voice a little dry from eating. She casually unscrewed the water bottle next to her and took a sip.

“You’re injured.” Nanami stated the fact, her gaze lingering on the bandage on her arm, her tone slightly gentler than before. “Do you need help? There are medical facilities nearby that I can contact, or if you need, I can take you to the college’s infirmary, where the treatment is more professional.”

"No need." Mashiro put down the water bottle, shook her head, and the movement aggravated the injury on her back, causing her to purse her lips almost imperceptibly.

"The flesh wound has been treated. The college is too far away, and..." She looked up at Nanami, her eyes pointed, "Going there like this might cause unnecessary misunderstandings and trouble, right, Mr. Nanami Kento?"

He called out the name directly.

"You know me?" Nanami's eyes narrowed, and the temperature in his voice dropped two degrees.

He quickly sifted through various possibilities in his mind: Was she a child of a sorcerer family? A high-ranking member? Or something more complicated?

"A highly skilled sorcerer, level one, known for his meticulousness and reliability." Mashiro stated the information about him in a calm tone. "I've heard of him. Your features are very distinctive: blond hair, glasses, a suit, impeccable, and easy to recognize."

Nanami Kento remained silent for a moment. Although he felt he wasn't famous enough for even children to recognize him, he still chose to skip the topic.

"The injuries on your body," his gaze swept over Mashiro's arms and weapons, "were they from fighting the cursed spirits?"

"Yes," Mashiro answered readily. "The three Level 2 monsters have already been exorcised in that apartment building to be demolished to the north."

Nanami frowned slightly. Three level two beings—judging from the child's reaction to the cursed power, that seemed unlikely.

"You solved it all by yourself?"

"Otherwise what?" Mashiro tilted her head, the cute gesture looking somewhat eerie on her injured face. "There, it's just me and them."

Nanami was silent for a few seconds, looking into Mashiro's eyes.

There was no sign of lying, at least not regarding the combat. But three level two monsters—for her level, that was hard to believe.

This child either possesses extremely special techniques or has combat talent far exceeding that of ordinary people.

Or perhaps, both.

"What's your name?" Nanami asked.

"Kujo Mashiro."

"age?"

"Twelve," Mashiro said, stating the body's age without changing his expression.

"Where's the family?"

“No more.” Mashiro’s tone was very calm, as if she were talking about someone else. “I am the last member of the Kujo family. The family is long gone. I live alone now.”

The Kujo family.

Nanami searched her memory for the surname, a fallen family of sorcerers. There seemed to be a record of it, but it had fallen into decline at least several decades ago.

If what she said is true, then the child's situation is even more complicated.

They are of ancient sorcerer blood, with appearances different from ordinary people. They live alone and have to hunt cursed spirits to make a living.

The overly blunt description of her predicament silenced Nanami. Such an undisguised, even self-righteous, attitude was rare among the people he had met. Especially since she was just a child.

“You just said you live alone,” Nanami pushed up his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses becoming serious, “Are you short of money right now?”

“Yes.” Mashiro nodded without hesitation, patting his empty tracksuit pocket. “I still don’t have money for tonight’s accommodation, and I’m far from having enough for the trip to Sendai. So if you have a suitable case and the price is reasonable, I can take it. Those three level-two monsters just now proved my capabilities.”

“Sendai?” He repeated the place name, but didn’t pay much attention to it.

"Well, it's a personal matter." Mashiro didn't elaborate, looking at Nanami, her crimson eyes gleaming. "But, since we've run into Mr. Nanami so coincidentally... are you on a mission around here? Did you spot a cursed spirit at the window? Level 1, or Special Level?"