"Experimental results."
Sōjun Minamoto recalled what Kenjaku had once said.
If something could be called a result, it had to be the outcome of hard work, struggle, and sacrifice.
It clearly wasn't the cursed objects formed from the body parts stored on the surrounding shelves and in the drawers.
Nor was it the semi-lifeless Cursed Spirits sealed in the nearby jars...
It could only be the woman on the table.
The gentle starlight emitted from Star Eyes blended with the room's atmosphere, adding a trace of peace to the stillness.
Sōjun Minamoto took a close look at the woman.
She appeared to be in her twenties, not quite thirty.
Not a sorcerer. Her looks were unremarkable—average height, slim build, black hair, no striking features or abnormalities.
Just an ordinary person.
She lay there quietly, a kimono draped over her body in reverse, exposing the area above her collarbone.
Her skin was pale and smooth, her collarbone gently protruding, outlining delicate curves. Her neck was long and slender. Though her expression was still, her complexion remained rosy.
How does Kenjaku manage to preserve her like this?
Like the corpse of someone peacefully asleep.
Sōjun Minamoto turned to glance at Kenjaku. Was this the so-called result? Don't tell me it's just his preservation technique?
Granted, Kenjaku's Cursed Technique would make him good at this kind of thing.
But if this was all there was to it, Sōjun Minamoto would be disappointed.
Kenjaku gave a faint smile, offering no answer—only a mysterious look.
He slowly walked to one of the nearby shelves, carefully opened a drawer, and the moment a small gap appeared, a wave of cold air spilled out, dropping the temperature even further.
Reaching in, he pulled out a long shard of ice.
With his sharp eyes, Sōjun Minamoto could tell the cursed object had once been a human radius bone.
Though it wasn't impossible for some bizarre materials to have a similar shape.
He pushed aside the idle thought and focused on what Kenjaku was doing next.
Kenjaku held the shard of cursed ice and approached the woman. He leaned down, examining her face inch by inch before gently placing the shard at her lips.
His movements were incredibly delicate.
The moment the ice touched her, it began to melt, turning into water that flowed into her mouth.
As her throat moved with a swallow, the liquid vanished quickly.
Kenjaku stepped back, standing beside Sōjun Minamoto again, his face lighting up with excitement as he stared at the woman.
A flesh recipient.
Sōjun Minamoto understood now.
In simpler terms—possession.
When a powerful and indestructible cursed object is consumed by a human, the consciousness within it can seize control of the person's spirit and body, and sometimes even more...
He looked at the woman before him.
Her body was changing.
Her long black hair gradually shortened, turning into icy white strands that emitted bursts of cold air, sharp and chilling.
Her facial features began to shift, becoming more youthful and delicate. Her frame also shrank slightly...
The transformation ended quickly.
From the white mist emerged a girl around fourteen or fifteen, charming and adorable.
The ordinary woman was gone without a trace.
...Just like that, a cursed object too powerful can even reshape the host's physical form.
That shard of ice was exactly that kind of object.
Cursed Energy erupted from her, surging like a tidal wave, whipping up a storm in the basement.
Yet the two onlookers weren't affected in the slightest—not a single strand of hair stirred.
An invisible barrier shielded the area, letting the black winds and waves grow unchecked.
Once the rampage of Cursed Energy subsided, her condition stabilized completely.
She was likely at the peak of Grade 1.
Sōjun Minamoto glanced at the surrounding shelves again...
The girl's eyelids trembled. Slowly, she opened her eyes—her face now full of life.
She sat up, looking slightly dazed, like someone suddenly woken from sleep. Her brows were furrowed, her eyes unfocused.
"You're awake," Kenjaku said with a gentle smile, like greeting an old friend. Then he called her name.
"Uraume."
The moment he spoke it, her eyes cleared. She looked down at her bare body. After a brief pause, her brows relaxed.
She hopped off the table without the slightest sense of shame, calmly dressed herself in the kimono that had been covering her, glanced around, then turned toward the voice. Frowning thoughtfully, she finally spoke after a long silence.
"Merciful Kenjaku?"
Though phrased as a question, her tone was certain.
Kenjaku's gaze shifted slightly, catching Sōjun Minamoto in his peripheral vision—he didn't look surprised at all.
So, he knows.
She understands more about me than I expected.
Kenjaku looked back at her and nodded, acknowledging it.
"Long time no see, Uraume," he said with another smile.
"Congratulations on your successful revival."
"Looks like you pulled it off," she said, her mind clearly sharpening as she recalled what had happened.
But her expression didn't reflect any joy—her demeanor was as cold as her hair.
"Also, I go by Shiori Himi now."
"Alright, Uraume."
"Tsk." She clicked her tongue in irritation. "Still as annoying as ever."
The two slipped naturally into conversation.
Before long, Uraume noticed someone else in the room. She turned to him and asked,
"Human?"
Sōjun Minamoto chuckled. That attitude was interesting—it seemed she didn't consider herself human at all.
Some cursed objects originate from the remains of powerful sorcerers, formed under very specific conditions.
Like those stored on the shelves.
There might seem to be many, but in truth, the odds of forming one were extremely low.
First, the person had to be overwhelmingly strong, with immense Cursed Energy. And not just a lot—an extraordinary amount. On top of that, they couldn't have been killed by Cursed Energy. The surrounding environment had to be unique too.
All of that, plus a death filled with intense negative emotion, and a presence of similar, abundant Cursed Energy in the area. Only then was there a minuscule chance for a resonance to occur, leading to fusion—and over time, a transformation into a cursed object.
Normally, once the transformation was complete, these cursed objects retained no consciousness from their former lives—only the strongest lingering obsession.
Becoming a cursed object like that meant they could no longer be considered human.
They behaved more like curses, driven by instinct. In rare cases, with enough power, they might evolve new intelligence.
But Uraume was different.
She seemed to have retained her full consciousness from before, along with the memories of the vessel she now inhabited.
Which meant...
Even in life, she hadn't considered herself human.
Sōjun Minamoto realized this.
And likely, she didn't view Kenjaku as human either—which explained their close bond.
Uraume didn't seem to mind his silence. Back then, humans were nothing more than ingredients to her.
No different from vegetables.
She wasn't in the mood for cooking now, though.
She turned to Kenjaku.
"Where is Sukuna-sama?"
"Still early. You're the first to successfully revive."
"Too slow," she said, annoyed.
"A being as mighty as Sukuna-sama can't be brought back with just any body," Kenjaku said, placing particular emphasis on "-sama."
So someone like me can be brought back casually?
Uraume didn't take offense.
She simply nodded in agreement.
As long as you praise Sukuna-sama, we're allies.
"Do you need me to do anything?" she asked.
"You've held up your end of the contract, so it's my turn to repay you."
"Not for now. You've just awakened. Take some time to learn about the modern world," Kenjaku said, lowering his gaze.
"Alright. Let me know if anything comes up."
Uraume suppressed the cold air around her and left the basement without hesitation. As she passed by Sōjun Minamoto, she didn't even glance at him.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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