Three on one.
Mahito had fought Yuji and Nanami before, but todo only heard of him.
He had never fought all three at the same time.
Todo moved first. He closed the distance in two strides, right fist already cocked. Mahito raised his left arm to block — Todo's punch connected with the guard and the SOUND it made echoed through the station like a car door slamming. Mahito's feet slid back.
Before he could reset, Nanami appeared on his left. Blade already mid-swing. The ratio technique hummed along the edge. Mahito jerked his head backward — the blade missed his throat by a centimetre and sliced through the collar of his shirt instead.
Yuji came from below. He'd dropped to a slide during Nanami's swing, skating across the floor on his knees, and drove his fist upward into Mahito's stomach. The curse folded. Spit flew. His body lifted off the ground from the impact.
Todo clapped.
Mahito's body swapped positions with Yuji's. Suddenly the curse was behind Nanami and Yuji was where Mahito had been. Nanami didn't hesitate — he reversed his grip and stabbed backward without looking. The blade caught Mahito in the shoulder.
Mahito ripped himself off the blade by liquefying his shoulder. Reformed. Jumped back. Put distance between himself and the three sorcerers.
He was breathing hard. Three exchanges. He'd taken four hits and landed zero.
"This," Mahito said, "is so unfair."
Nobody disagreed.
Todo cracked his knuckles. Nanami adjusted his grip. Yuji raised his fists.
They came again.
Nanami led the second assault. He feinted high with his blade — Mahito flinched upward to guard his face — and Todo exploited the opening with a straight kick to Mahito's exposed ribs. The curse bent sideways from the force. Yuji was already airborne, having jumped off Todo's back like a springboard, and brought both fists down on the top of Mahito's head in a double hammerfist.
Mahito cratered into the floor. Dust erupted. Before he could reform, Nanami drove his blade downward into the crater. The ratio technique split the ground around Mahito's body, cracking the foundation.
Mahito's arm shot out of the dust and grabbed Nanami's ankle. He pulled — Nanami stumbled — and Mahito launched himself upward headfirst into Nanami's chin.
Todo clapped. Nanami swapped with Yuji. Mahito's headbutt connected with Yuji's forehead instead — and Yuji headbutted BACK. Their skulls collided. Mahito's head caved slightly from the impact. Yuji didn't even blink.
"OW," Mahito said.
Yuji grabbed Mahito by the face and slammed him into the floor. Then picked him up and slammed him again. Then again.
From somewhere in the station, invisible, standing behind a collapsed vending machine, Sebas watched.
The three sorcerers were taking turns beating Mahito like he owed them money. Todo would swap positions with Boogie Woogie to keep Mahito disoriented. Nanami would find the weak point and cut. Yuji would hit whatever was left.
It was a mauling.
Sebas yawned.
"This is too one-sided," he muttered.
He reached behind his back. Into "somewhere." And pulled out a small golden egg.
He flicked it across the station.
The egg arced through the air, spinning end over end, and cracked against Mahito's back mid-beating.
Todo's fist came down toward Mahito's face.
Mahito turned into a chicken.
A completely normal, standard, white-feathered, bead-eyed, confused-looking chicken standing exactly where a special grade cursed spirit had been half a second ago.
Todo's fist sailed through empty air.
The chicken looked up at him.
"Bok," said the chicken.
Todo stared.
Nanami stared.
Yuji stared.
The chicken pecked the ground. Then reformed. Mahito. Full size. Standing. Already swinging. His fist caught Todo across the jaw before the sorcerer's brain had finished rebooting.
Todo stumbled back. Mahito pressed the attack — drove a knee into Todo's stomach, then spun toward Nanami with an elbow.
Nanami blocked the elbow with his blade. Pushed back. Swung at Mahito's neck.
Chicken.
The blade passed through air above a hen that was already waddling sideways. Mahito reformed to Nanami's left — outside his guard — and kicked him in the ribs.
Nanami skidded across the floor. Yuji charged in to cover him. Right hook aimed at Mahito's temple.
Chicken.
Yuji's fist hit nothing. The chicken was between his legs. Then it wasn't. Mahito reformed BEHIND Yuji, fist already loaded.
The punch connected with the back of Yuji's head.
But it wasn't a normal punch.
Cursed energy hit within 0.000001 seconds of physical contact.
BLACK FLASH.
Black lightning cracked through the corridor. Yuji went FLYING. He hit the wall so hard the concrete spiderwebbed behind him.
Mahito stood where Yuji had been. Fist extended. Eyes wide. Black sparks crackling around his knuckles.
He'd gone chicken to slip behind his opponent and landed a Black Flash on the counter.
"Oh," Mahito said, looking at his fist. "Oh this is NICE."
From behind the vending machine, Sebas pumped his fist.
"THERE we go. NOW it's a fight."
Mahito was cooking now.
Todo came in with a flying knee. Chicken. Todo's knee hit air. Mahito reformed on Todo's back, wrapped both arms around his neck, and used the bigger man as a springboard to launch himself at Nanami.
Nanami swung. Chicken. Mid-air. The blade passed under the falling hen. Reformed before landing — sweeping kick took Nanami's legs out from under him.
Nanami hit the floor. Mahito stomped down. Nanami rolled. The stomp cracked concrete.
Yuji re-entered with a running punch. Mahito ducked — chicken for a split second to drop his height, reformed into an uppercut that caught Yuji under the chin.
"BOK—" CRACK.
The sound of a chicken noise cutting into a devastating uppercut was the most wrong thing anyone in that corridor had ever heard.
Mahito could transform whenever he wanted. He just DID it. curse, chicken, curse, chicken. Any time. Any moment. He was fighting in the gaps between transformations — attacking in human form, vanishing into poultry the instant anyone countered, then reforming at an angle nobody expected.
Nanami's blade would be millimetres from Mahito's neck — chicken. Gone. Reformed behind him. Elbow to the spine.
Todo would clap to swap — Mahito would chicken DURING the swap, meaning Todo was switching positions with a hen that was already moving. By the time he turned around, Mahito had reformed somewhere else entirely.
Yuji threw a four-hit combo. Connected once. Twice. Chicken. Third and fourth punches hit air. Mahito reformed above him — having jumped mid-chicken — and came down with a heel drop to the crown of Yuji's skull.
"He's got no openings anymore," Nanami said, wiping blood from his lip. "Every time we commit, he transforms. There's no window to exploit because he chooses when to shift."
"HOW DO WE FIGHT SOMETHING THAT CAN BECOME A CHICKEN WHENEVER IT WANTS?" Yuji yelled.
"We overwhelm the decision-making," Todo said. "Attack from enough angles that going chicken doesn't help because there's no safe place to reform."
They tried. All three at once. Converging from three directions simultaneously.
Mahito went chicken. Slipped between Yuji's legs. Reformed between Nanami and Todo while both their attacks were committed to the space he'd just left. Landed a palm strike on Nanami's chest and a kick on Todo's knee in the same motion.
"Bok bok," Mahito said, mid-reform, mid-attack, grinning like something that had found a cheat code for reality.
Near the collapsed vending machine, something shifted in the air beside Sebas.
Something HEAVIER. The kind of presence that made you want to sit up straight and reconsider every choice you'd ever made.
Sebas looked to his left.
A man was standing there. Old. Toga. Sandals. Bald. The kind of beard that had been grown specifically for stroking while making someone feel stupid. The kind of face that had been asking unanswerable questions since before most civilisations figured out plumbing.
Socrates.
THE Socrates. Standing in Shibuya Station. Radiating AURA. Pure, undiluted, philosophical presence. The light from a cracked ceiling panel hit his bald head at the exact angle to produce a golden glow that had absolutely no reason to exist underground.
The sunkiss method. Fully deployed.
Behind a pillar, Piccolo's head snapped around so fast his neck cracked.
"GOHAN. WRITE THIS DOWN."
Gohan's pen was already moving. "WRITING."
Sebas looked at Socrates. Socrates looked at Sebas. Two beings who had no reason to be in this dimension acknowledging each other the way people do when they both showed up to a party neither was invited to.
"You gave the patchwork creature a barnyard animal technique," Socrates said. His voice was like gravel filtered through a thousand years of being right about everything.
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Entertainment."
Socrates nodded slowly. Like this was an acceptable answer that he was going to philosophically dismantle anyway.
"If you are entertained," Socrates said, "then what are you without entertainment?"
Sebas opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"...Bored?"
"Is boredom the absence of entertainment? Or is entertainment the avoidance of boredom? And if one creates entertainment from nothing—" he gestured at the chicken fight "—does that make one a creator? Or merely a creature fleeing from its own emptiness?"
Sebas's brain hurt.
"Bro I just wanted to see a chicken fight a sorcerer."
Socrates smiled. The smile of a man who had made smarter people cry with questions.
He raised his hands. Pressed his palms together.
"Domain Expansion."
Malevolent Questions.
A marble amphitheatre materialised around them. Rows of empty stone seats. A podium at the centre. The sky above was open — pure Mediterranean blue. Warm.
And from every surface, QUESTIONS radiated outward.
Not attacks. Questions.
If you are entertained, then what are you without entertainment?
If a man can do anything, why does he choose to watch others suffer for sport?
Is the chicken a metaphor? And if so — for what?
You gave a volcano a fruit and a zombie a heart. What did you give yourself?
The questions settled into Sebas's brain like relatives who show up unannounced and start going through your fridge.
"THIS IS THE WORST DOMAIN I'VE EVER BEEN IN," Sebas yelled.
"THE UNEXAMINED LIFE IS NOT WORTH LIVING," Socrates replied from the podium, golden aura blazing.
"I DON'T WANT TO EXAMINE ANYTHING."
"WHY NOT?"
"BECAUSE—"
"IS THAT ANSWER ITSELF NOT WORTH EXAMINING?"
Sebas grabbed his own head. The domain's sure-hit wasn't damage. It was THOUGHT. Forced introspection. Every question burrowed deeper. Why was he here? What was his purpose? Was he—
He snapped his fingers and shattered the domain like glass.
Socrates stood calmly. Hands behind his back. Not surprised. Domains are temporary. Questions are eternal.
"You'll think about what I asked eventually," Socrates said.
"No I won't."
"You already are."
"I hate you."
Socrates gave him the sunkiss nod. Golden light on bald head. Then he walked away. Down the corridor. Into the dark. Sandals slapping concrete. Gone.
The fight was ending.
Three on one was still three on one, and even with the chicken, Mahito couldn't keep up forever. Not because the ability had a limit — it didn't. But because Todo, Nanami, and Yuji had stopped trying to hit Mahito and started hitting where Mahito WOULD BE.
Todo clapped. Swapped himself with Mahito. The curse appeared directly in front of Nanami — went chicken instantly. But Nanami wasn't swinging. He was WAITING. Blade held low.
Yuji was behind where the chicken reformed. Already there. Already swinging.
Mahito shifted back to human and Yuji's fist was occupying the exact space his jaw was reforming into.
BLACK FLASH.
Black lightning split the corridor. Mahito's body CRUMPLED. His arms deformed. His chest caved. He hit the ground. Tried to chicken. The transformation started — feathers sprouting, body shrinking — and Todo stomped on the half-formed hen before it finished.
Mahito reformed under Todo's boot. Human. Pinned. Beaten.
He stopped grinning.
He ran.
Mahito fled. Just running. Down the corridor. Around a corner.
And stopped.
A figure was standing in front of him. Long black hair. Stitched forehead. That smile.
Kenjaku.
"Oh, Mahito," Kenjaku said. "You look terrible."
Mahito backed up. He could feel it. This wasn't rescue.
"Don't—"
Kenjaku placed a hand on Mahito's head.
Cursed Spirit Manipulation activated.
Mahito's body seized. His form wavered. Everything he was — Idle Transfiguration, the chicken, all of it — was pulled inward, compressed, consumed.
Mahito vanished.
Yuji arrived at the corner just in time to watch. Nanami and Todo behind him.
Kenjaku looked at them. Smiled. Dropped a small object on the ground.
Cursed objects across Japan began to unseal.
Kenjaku walked away.
The sorcerers couldn't stop him.
Shibuya was over.
On a rooftop above the station, Sebas sat with his legs dangling over the edge. Cape doing the thing. Watching Kenjaku's figure disappear into the night.
"This world's cooked," Sebas said.
He leaned back. Looked at the sky. The fires of Shibuya reflecting orange against the clouds.
"I'll be back though. Pretty sure blud with the pink hair's got a kill order on him now. Give it a week or two, someone's gonna come try to smoke him." He scratched his chin. "Might be worth watching."
He stood up. Stretched.
A portal opened beside him.
Sebas looked at Shibuya one last time.
If you are entertained, then what are you without entertainment?
"Shut up, Socrates," Sebas muttered.
He stepped through the portal.
Hit that collection, power stone and comment down also join the discord yk might make +1 chapter in the discord first then here
ht://disord.gg/SgHCta6X