Chapter 177 - Are You Studying for Grad School?

"A bet? You want to stake your life on me, just like this piece of trash?"

Kashimo shifted sideways. Behind, the ground was carpeted with broken bodies. Panda, now reduced to nothing but a head core. Hakari ignored Kashimo and glanced down at Panda lying on the ground, barely clinging to life.

"You've gotten thin, Panda."

"Cough... just run..." Panda's voice was so faint it sounded like it could cut out any second.

Kashimo laughed.

"You know this one? Then you can die together."

"Die together? I don't do losing deals."

Hakari took a deep breath.

"Eight Gates: Fifth Gate — Gate of Limit, open!"

BOOM!

All that remained on the spot was a ring of cracked asphalt. Hakari's silhouette had vanished completely. Kashimo didn't even have time to react. Those lazy eyes had just barely caught a flash of green light when a torrent of Cursed Energy, so dense it defied all reason, slammed into the left side of Kashimo's face.

CRASH!

Kashimo plowed through three corrugated steel shipping containers in a row and smashed hard into a load-bearing wall at the abandoned dock. Dust and debris erupted everywhere.

"That was fast." That was the only thought that flickered through Kashimo's mind.

That kind of speed was simply not within the range of any modern sorcerer. Before Kashimo could even pull free from the wall, a piercing sonic boom exploded in those ears again. Hakari's second kick had arrived. This time Kashimo was ready. At the last possible instant, Kashimo wrenched the spine sideways and barely, just barely, dodged the lethal strike to the core.

CRACK!

The Cursed Tool in Kashimo's hand was clipped by Hakari's heel, sent spinning through the air for dozens of meters, and landed somewhere in a distant scrap heap with a clang.

More astonishing still, after Hakari's kick missed and struck open air, it carved out a vast fan-shaped vacuum zone right behind Kashimo, visible to the naked eye. The wind reversed and howled back, stinging Kashimo's cheeks raw.

"What in the world is this monstrous strength?"

Kashimo pulled lips into a grin and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. Those eyes, though, only grew brighter. Hakari landed cleanly. A pinky dug into one ear, and the look on Hakari's face was pure, undisguised boredom.

"So you're supposedly the strongest sorcerer from four hundred years ago?"

Hakari blew at the dirt under a fingernail and looked the ancient sorcerer with the two sky-high buns up and down.

"Nothing special. Though that tingly-numb feeling when you hit me — you'd be pretty useful as electroshock therapy, I'll give you that."

Kashimo wasn't angry. If anything, the fanatical excitement on that face was nearly spilling over. Kashimo had waited four hundred years, all for the sake of finding something worth fighting. This strange person with the bleached blond hair had delivered something far beyond expectation.

"To think you can just ignore the properties of my Cursed Energy."

Kashimo fixed both eyes hard on Hakari. "Name yourself."

"Kinji Hakari."

Hakari lazily rolled a neck.

"Less talk. Hand over all your points. I'm on a schedule, I don't have time to play house with you out here."

Under normal circumstances, Hakari wouldn't mind drawing things out a little. But if that green-skinned gorilla found out Hakari was dragging things out here, it would probably mean getting hung from the tree at Tokyo Jujutsu High's gate again, shouting anti-gambling slogans. Just picturing that scene, Hakari shuddered. Finish this fast. Kashimo had zero interest in points. One step forward, electric arcs crackling and spitting underfoot.

"Since you're that strong, you must know where Ryomen Sukuna is."

Hakari stared at Kashimo like an idiot.

"Can't you understand plain speech? What kind of mush are you running in that head of yours."

A scornful snort. "That eager to go get yourself killed? That desperate to get chopped to pieces by Sukuna?"

"You don't know?"

The fanaticism in Kashimo's eyes hardened into pure killing intent. "Doesn't matter. Then just die."

No testing the waters. No hesitation. Kashimo became a bolt of blue lightning and lunged straight in. Hakari gave a cold snort and threw a punch directly into the blazing thunder.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The two collided, trading blows at a speed that left nothing but afterimages. Every impact detonated with crackling lightning and the roaring surge of green steam. Kashimo's taijutsu was formidable, a killing instinct honed across four hundred years of slaughter. But with every exchange, Kashimo grew more unsettled. This blond-haired person played by absolutely no conventional rules.

Every single one of Hakari's attacks carried pure, total physical violence, like an ancient predatory beast wearing human skin. Kashimo's lightning Cursed Energy, the pride of everything, when it struck Hakari, could only cause a brief paralysis. It could not penetrate that terrifying muscular defense wrapped in green steam.

"What manner of taijutsu is this?"

Kashimo clenched teeth and took a knee strike head-on, stomach lurching. Can't trade blow for blow. Kashimo's eyes went hard. At the next exchange, Kashimo deliberately abandoned all defense and let Hakari's fist drive into the ribs. A dull, cracking snap.

At the same instant, Kashimo used that force to close the gap on Hakari's left side, right hand a blade, and poured every last drop of accumulated lightning-attribute Cursed Energy directly into Hakari's left arm without reservation.

"CRACKLE—!"

In the shriek of electric current, the muscle in Hakari's left arm shredded as though cut by a chainsaw, blood erupted across the entire arm, the flesh torn wide open.

"Got you."

Kashimo pulled back and looked at Hakari's blood-soaked arm. A smug curve spread across those lips.

"Nothing more than that. No matter how strong your taijutsu, lose one arm and your balance is finished."

Kashimo dropped into a half-crouch and settled into a charging stance. Blue arcs of electricity leaped and thrashed wildly all around.

"Finish you in one go!"

WHOOSH!

Kashimo charged in again, going straight for Hakari's neck. What greeted that charge was not a death-throes struggle. It was a shoe sole, swelling endlessly under a shroud of green steam.

"What?"

BANG!

One supremely savage spinning heel kick, square into Kashimo's face. The sheer force sent Kashimo spinning three full rotations in midair before slamming hard into the mud.

"Tch." Hakari spat a mouthful of bloody saliva. "Yakking on and on. So damn annoying."

Kashimo clawed free from the muddy crater, half a face already swollen high.

"In this condition... still able to counter-attack...?"

Kashimo lowered into a crouch and raised both hands.

"Stop bluffing."

A cold laugh. "Your left arm is already done. You're spent. As long as..."

The words cut off, voice dropping dead like a duck with its neck wrung. Under Kashimo's disbelieving stare, Cursed Energy began surging frantically through Hakari's nearly-destroyed left arm. The torn flesh writhed, grew, and knitted itself back together at a speed visible to the naked eye. Not even three seconds. A perfectly intact arm reappeared on Hakari's body.

"How is that possible?" Kashimo froze.

Reverse Cursed Technique? No, that recovery speed, that utterly casual posture, was as though the body had simply sewn itself back together on its own.

"We're fighting, so fight. Why all the speeches. Are you cramming for a grad school entrance exam or something?"

➤ Next: But That's a Loser's Mindset