The next morning.
I opened my eyes, checked my physical condition, and let out a hollow laugh.
"It actually moves. This insane slab of meat."
Of course, I wasn't in any state to use extreme martial arts or sprint at full speed. My ribs were still throbbing, and a sharp pain flared in my lungs every time I took a deep breath.
But the fact that a kid who almost had his organs pulverized by a direct hit from a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit last night was walking on two feet just one day later was a complete departure from common sense.
It was a miracle produced by the combination of a roughly manifested Reverse Cursed Technique and the abnormal recovery speed inherent to a sorcerer's body—the vessel that holds Cursed Energy.
"First, I need to eat."
To heal these wounds and survive a twelve-year-old's growth spurt, I needed an overwhelming amount of calories and protein.
I dragged my limping legs through the crisp dawn air toward the vicinity of Kyoto Station.
My destination was a dilapidated private bakery located in a back alley of the station. Every morning, just before opening, they put out leftovers from the previous day or deformed rejects for one-tenth of the retail price.
"Hey, mister! Those! Those two salad breads and the meat croquettes are mine!"
As soon as the bakery's shutter slid halfway up, I charged the counter.
Cheap flour buns or red bean bread are useless for nutrition. I needed the prepared breads—the ones filled with meat and vegetables that get marked down the fastest because they spoil easily. That was the only lifeline that would build my blood and muscle.
"Good grief, this cheeky brat's intuition is frightening. Fine, take them."
I handed over a few coins and grabbed the heavy plastic bag.
This pathetic yet fierce 'open run' was repeated every morning for the next week. I strictly abstained from any excessive movement disguised as training and focused solely on nutrient intake and recovering my damaged body.
"Phew, okay, I can finally run."
The morning of the seventh day.
I was on my way home, as usual, with my hands full of discounted prepared bread.
As I was performing some light stretching to check the elasticity of my recovered body, a familiar structure caught my eye.
'Karasuma Line Kyoto Station, Exit 4.'
Not long ago, a string of mysterious disappearances had occurred here. The police and those guys in suits (probably 'Windows' from the Jujutsu world) had set up police lines and blocked access.
I'd been taking the long way around for days because I didn't want to get involved in anything annoying, but...
"Wait?"
The barriers had been removed.
The yellow police tape was discarded on the ground, and the once tightly shut Exit 4 shutter was halfway open, revealing the dark stairs leading into the station.
Is the restriction over? Did they catch the culprit or finish cleaning up the accident?
Of course, I didn't care. Only one thing mattered.
"Score. If I go this way, it cuts ten minutes off the walk home."
I took a bite of a cooling croquette and stepped down into the dark stairs of Exit 4 without a second thought.
It was for the most basic, primal reason: I wanted to get home quickly before the bread that was supposed to fill my stomach got any colder.
"Gotta have this with milk when I get back~"
Smelling the scent of frying oil wafting from the bag, I hummed a tune as I descended the stairs.
Should I go to Jongno~♪ Should I go to Myeongdong~♪
However, the ticket gate that should have appeared within a minute was nowhere to be seen. Instead, all that appeared before my eyes were endless tiled walls and yellow information signs.
[ ← Way Out: Exit 0 ]
"...Exit 0? Does Kyoto Station even have one of those?"
Something was wrong. I had definitely entered through Exit 4.
Thinking I might have taken a wrong turn, I casually turned around to head back toward the platform. But in the place where the stairs should have been, there was only a long exit corridor that looked exactly like the one I had just walked through.
And the number on the sign hanging above my head had changed ominously.
[ ← Way Out: Exit 1 ]
"...Are you kidding me?"
In that instant, a chilling shiver raced up my spine.
This wasn't some joke about people with no sense of direction getting lost in a subway. The space itself was distorted. Instinctively, I gripped my plastic bag tight and stared at a faded railway notice posted on the wall.
Please do not run on the platform.
Watch your step.
In case of fire, the emergency exit is this way.
Sentences so common your eyes automatically skip over them because they're so obvious.
Those phrases...
Do not miss a single anomaly.
If you find an anomaly, turn back immediately.
If there are no anomalies, proceed forward.
Exit through Exit 4.
Violence is prohibited in this area.
The party responsible shall bear the consequences for any violations.
Always keep your emotions under control.
The party responsible shall likewise bear the consequences for any violations.
"Ha, haha..."
After finishing the notice, a dry laugh escaped my lips.
This was a cliché urban legend, a 'Rules Creepypasta' often found on the internet. A Non-sorcerer might have been overwhelmed by this eerie atmosphere, trembling as they followed the rules.
But I am a sorcerer. This space is undoubtedly the inside of an Innate Domain or a Simple Domain cast by a powerful Cursed Spirit.
Playing along with these rules would only allow the fear to squeeze me dry and erode my mental strength for no reason. I didn't have time to indulge in this kind of prank. The meat croquette in my hand was getting cold.
"Rules my ass."
I carefully set the bag of bread on the floor and channeled Cursed Energy into my right hand. An eerie, bluish energy shimmered over my fist like a heat haze.
The perfect way to break the rules is to smash the board itself!
BOOM—!!!!
A roar like an exploding bomb echoed through the underground corridor.
However.
"...Ugh!"
Only a bone-shaking recoil returned. The tiled wall remained perfectly intact, without even a single crack. A blow that could pierce through the body of a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit hadn't even scratched the shell of this space.
"...It looks like I've walked into the gut of something quite bothersome."
It was then, just as I clicked my tongue and shook out my fist.
Skreeeeek... Thud.
A bizarre grinding sound echoed from the dark shadows at the corner of the corridor.
Along with a nauseating scent of blood that filled the air, something emerged. It had the shape of a human, but it was a malformed mass of flesh that was anything but.
Six massive arms writhed as they scraped against the floor, and atop its neck were three faces, squashed and mangled beyond recognition, grotesquely entangled together.
RULE VIOLATION! (Japanese)
DIDN'T FOLLOW THE RULES! (English)
RULE VIOLATION! (Korean)
The three mouths tore open simultaneously, and voices in different languages thundered through the corridor.
An overwhelming sense of dread. The density of its Cursed Energy was on a completely different level from the one I had met in the back alley a week ago.