Ryder returned home just before dawn, his body aching slightly from the night's exertion, though nothing that Reverse Cursed Energy couldn't fix. He lay in bed, a small grin on his face as he stared at the ceiling.
"Ten FP in one night... not bad for my first real outing," he muttered before slowly drifting off to sleep.
The following nights became a routine. Every night, once the city dimmed and most people retreated into their homes, Ryder would don his Sukuna form and leap into the shadows of New York. With his Curse Sense, he scanned the emotional state of the city—seeking fear, despair, and hatred.
Soon, people began whispering about a mysterious figure saving innocents from harm. A pink-haired man with demonic markings and glowing red eyes—some called him a ghost, others a devil. The police didn't know what to make of it.
But not everyone in the police force was clean.
One night, as Ryder responded to a wave of negative emotions, he landed in a dark alley to find a group of men pretending to mug a teenager. But something felt... off. Ryder paused, narrowing his eyes.
These men—despite their loud threats—radiated almost no fear, no anxiety. Just a vague sense of confidence.
"A setup," Ryder muttered.
He dropped from the rooftop, landing behind them with a thud. The fake muggers spun around, guns ready—but Ryder didn't even flinch.
"Drop the act. You're not criminals... You're bait," Ryder said coldly, his red eyes glowing ominously.
The supposed "victim" pulled out a badge. "Pink haired punk!, or whatever your name is, you're under arrest for vigilantism and assault."
Ryder sighed, eyes narrowing. "You play dress-up and expect me to respect you?"
Without warning, one of the officers raised his gun. But Ryder vanished before the trigger was pulled.
From behind, his voice rang out. "Real victims don't fake fear. Your emotions are too calm."
One by one, he disarmed them, carefully ensuring no one was seriously hurt. He didn't kill—not unless someone crossed the line. That was a rule he set for himself.
The fake officers were left tied up, their guns dismantled beside them. On their wrists, Ryder carved a symbol using his Cleave—harmless, but glowing faintly with cursed energy. A warning.
Back atop a building, Ryder gazed out at the skyline, eyes solemn.
"Even the ones who wear badges can be thugs," he whispered. "But my sense never lies. I'll help the ones who truly need it."
Night after night, Ryder continued. Each time he helped a bullied teen, a harassed woman, or a cornered worker targeted by crime syndicates, his name—though still unknown—grew in rumor and myth.
Some started calling him The Crimson Curse, others whispered of The Phantom Oni.
But to Ryder, he was just a guy doing what needed to be done. A vigilante, yes. But also… a guardian.
And slowly, as his Amplifier Factor rose to 5x and his Sukuna Template reached 20%, Ryder knew this was only the beginning.
He was progressing steadily, thanks to the relentless nightly training he put himself through. However, his growth had recently slowed down. It had been days since he encountered any truly powerful criminals.
"This won't do," Ryder muttered, staring at his stats. His template hadn't even progressed by 0.1% in the last ten days. "I need to do more."
He exhaled deeply, eyes narrowing with determination.
"It's time to see if I can fight some strong ones in Marvel of year 2006."
"But… what happened in 2006?" Ryder mumbled, closing his eyes, trying to recall the Marvel timeline. Nothing came to mind immediately.
"Well, I guess there's only one thing I can do now," he muttered, grabbing a notepad and jotting something down.
"General Dreykov and the Red Room."
He tapped his pen on the page thoughtfully. "Black Widow joins S.H.I.E.L.D. in 2006 and tries to assassinate General Dreykov in 2008…"
His eyes lit up with interest.
"That means the Red Room is still active right now."
Ryder stood up, stretching his arms as his cursed energy flared around him. "If I can find the Red Room, maybe I can disrupt their operations early… and face enemies worth fighting."
"Though now… I should see what this month's sign-in is," he muttered as he sat back down. It had been over 30 days since he last signed in, and it was time for his second monthly sign-in.
"Hope I get something cool and unexpected," he mumbled as he pressed the [Monthly Sign-In] button.
[You have signed in]
[Congratulations on obtaining: 1 Billion USD]
[The money is stored in a special account, and you have received a special card. Through it, you can spend the money without getting traced or attracting suspicion.]
Ryder chuckled in surprise.
"I didn't expect to get money… but this is definitely unexpected."
"Damn, this month's sign-in reward is no go," he muttered as the system screen faded away.
"One billion dollars, huh?" he said, thinking aloud. " well, at least it's something useful. "
He put the special card into his inventory and lay down on his bed.
"Well… I guess I'm going to Russia," he muttered to himself with a sigh before falling asleep.
The next morning, during breakfast, he decided to inform his family.
"What?" his father asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why so suddenly?"
As Ryder struggled to explain, his mom looked at him sternly and asked calmly, "You're going off for work?"
He nodded silently, as he stood up and began to leave.
SLAM!
Just a moment later, his mom slammed her hand on the table.
"Son, we need to talk. Now," she said as Ryder turned, placing his bag down and sitting like an obedient child.
"Hi, what's up?" he asked, scratching his head.
"Tell me, Ryder… how many friends do you have?" she asked as she looked at him seriously.
"Um… quite a few," he replied with a small smile, though his eyes didn't quite meet hers. "They're more like acquaintances than real friends."
"See? That's what I'm talking about," she said. "You're a closed-off nerd. You go to college, then spend the rest of your day locked up in your room. And now, even when you're going on a trip, it's for work?"
"You need to enjoy your life a bit too." She sighed and added, "Honey, don't just run after money. You've already earned enough. Now give yourself a break and go on a vacation—live a little. But knowing my workaholic son, I'm sure it's not going to be a long one."
Ryder nodded. "I know, Mom… but believe me, this is important. After this, I promise—we'll go on a family trip," he said as he picked up his bag and ran off.
"Sigh… this kid," she muttered, shaking her head.
Ryder's father just chuckled. "Let him be. He has his own way of enjoying life," he said with smile as he pats her on back.