The next morning, the first rays of sunlight streamed in beside the bed, casting a pale golden glow.
It was four a.m.
Sōjun Minamoto woke on schedule, refined his Cursed Energy, and did some light exercises in the courtyard.
He wasn't planning to go out today.
The Cursed Womb he captured yesterday was still waiting to be dealt with.
After calmly finishing his daily training, Sōjun returned to the living room. The Cursed Womb sat cross-legged on the wooden floor in the corner, just as it had been since the day before.
Its locust-like head wore a blank, lifeless expression. It didn't show the slightest emotion—because it couldn't anymore.
When Sōjun assimilated it, he eroded its mind and will. At this point, it was no different from a plant… or a vegetative Cursed Spirit. It retained only the trait of being "alive," with no capacity for independent action.
Every movement it made was under Sōjun's control, directed by the crimson hair strand stabbed into the back of its head.
This ability had gradually taken shape since Sōjun began his research into the Fly Head assimilation.
By planting his own flesh and blood cells into a living target, those cells would hijack the body like a parasitic culture, devouring nutrients to grow and strengthen, eventually eroding and replacing the host entirely.
The target remained alive, but would gradually be reshaped into Sōjun's form—everything except the head, which he deliberately preserved.
Once the soul was transformed as well, full assimilation was complete. At that point, the target's Cursed Energy, soul, and body would all belong entirely to Sōjun.
It would be like having an external limb—one he could fully control, yet still retain its own technique abilities...
The only drawback was that close contact had to be maintained. The crimson-tipped hair strand had to remain connected at all times to keep the assimilation active. If contact broke, the body would collapse instantly and the soul would scatter.
The Cursed Womb was currently undergoing this assimilation.
As for the Fly Head, it had already been fully assimilated and now looked exactly like a miniature version of Sōjun. The only difference was the pair of grayish-white wings on its back—resembling chicken wings.
Fly Heads was weak, without any technique or special ability, so Sōjun had completely assimilated it. Since he hadn't erased its will, the wings remained—a symbol of its original identity.
Sōjun watched the Fly Head dart around in the sky. Though it had a good-looking, youthful face, its demeanor was sleazy and its expression cunning, eyes full of sly intelligence.
His face darkened.
With a thought, he took over Fly Heads' body and began circling above his head. Its movements were smooth and agile.
He had to admit—flying was a great feeling. Soaring through the air brought a sense of boundless freedom, as if there were nowhere he couldn't go.
Once he'd had his fill, he descended slowly and hovered in front of his original body, flapping his wings to stay afloat.
Staring at the Fly Head, Sōjun frowned for a moment, then decisively raised a hand and wiped away its face.
Its features vanished, leaving a smooth, mirror-like surface. Sōjun stared into the mirror, and the mirror stared back. With their senses linked, he could see both the mirror and his own face—an oddly unique perspective.
Intrigued, he closed his eyes.
The Fly Head flew off again, its mirror face reflecting everything in the living room—tables, chairs, teacups, sofas... Still not satisfied, it flew out of the attic and into the courtyard.
Looking up, the mirror reflected the blue sky, dotted with wisps of white cloud. Looking down, it captured half the earth, bathed in gentle sunlight that deepened into a rich gold as the distance stretched... The panoramic view was strangely uplifting, as if even his mood had expanded with it.
After observing for a while, he returned to the living room and opened his eyes, gazing at the Fly Head's wings. To call what it had done "flying" felt too generous—"gliding" would be more accurate. The wings were just too weak.
With a thought, Sōjun decided to remodel them. He was most familiar with eagles, so naturally he went with eagle wings.
No hesitation.
After a quick transformation, the weak wings turned into powerful eagle wings—strong, majestic, and imposing, instantly giving the figure a more commanding presence.
He soared into the sky, wings slicing through the air like fins through water, leaving faint ripples in his wake. In the blink of an eye, he was far away—if not for the limit of the crimson strand, he could have gone even higher and farther.
Watching the Fly Head return, Sōjun nodded in satisfaction and relinquished control.
The Fly Head froze, then suddenly took off on its own, flying around like a wild dog. Annoyed, Sōjun simply used the crimson strand to tie it up again and left it dangling above his head.
...
Sōjun turned to the Locust Head Cursed Spirit. This one was trickier—about the size of a normal person.
Let it hang above his head?
Might as well have something take a dump on him!
Even if a Cursed Spirit's body was made from Cursed Energy, his mild cleanliness obsession couldn't tolerate the thought.
The Fly Head was a special case.
Suddenly, inspiration struck—
Cursed Energy?
His Cursed Energy, flesh, and soul could be converted among each other at a ratio of 7:1:1.
In other words, 7 units of Cursed Energy could become 1 unit of flesh or soul. Flesh and soul conversions were one-to-one.
Cursed Energy was the easiest and most convenient to convert, so Sōjun usually used it as the intermediary between flesh and soul.
Now that the Fly Head and the Locust Head were both essentially made from his own Cursed Energy, why couldn't he convert them into flesh?
He searched for a mirror in the living room—nothing. Checked the bedroom—still nothing. Even the bathroom didn't have one.
Fine. He pulled out a strand of hair and hung it in front of himself. At the tip, a lump of flesh oozed out, quickly forming into a long, sharp eye. Within the eye, concentric pupils appeared, quivering slightly as it locked onto him.
Sōjun took off his shirt.
The Fly Head circled once overhead, then hovered nearby.
Raising his clawed hand, Sōjun glanced to both sides. Suddenly, his body twisted and blurred, transforming into a dark, fluid-gas form that floated in the air.
At a light touch from his fingers, the mass flowed back up his arm. After some pulling and reshaping, several black lines coiled around his chest.
Through the eye's vision, the markings looked abstract, but faintly formed a palm-sized, circular mirror pattern over his heart.
Focusing his mind, Sōjun watched the mirror markings tremble and break free—turning back into the Fly Head's mirrored human form.
It flapped its wings and shot into the courtyard, slicing the air with a flap, before returning to Sōjun's side and transforming once again into black lines on his chest.
He was very pleased. This method was much more convenient. Once the Locust Head was fully assimilated, it too would have a place.
There was still plenty of space on his body. He could capture more unique Cursed Spirits later to stockpile special technique abilities. Piece by piece, he'd forge a body of war—power to the left, precision to the right, endurance at the core, and a beast's strength guarding his heart.
These lines had special functions—
For instance, enhancing his heart and physical defense.
Or acting as Cursed Energy batteries.
Let's call them Sigils of Cursed Energy.
After some thought, Sōjun put his clothes back on, hiding the Sigils beneath. From the outside, and even to the senses, they were undetectable.