Chapitre 2: Self-Discovery [REWRITE]
Who would've guessed that Furōkawa would end up sitting stark naked in the middle of a cratered street after barely surviving an attack by two monstrous creatures that clearly wanted to turn him into their next meal?
Certainly not Furō.
He tried to stand, but the moment he put weight on his right foot, a sharp jolt of pain shot through him. Looking down, he grimaced at the sight of his ankle, now swollen to the size of a golf ball. He must've twisted it while running for his life earlier. His only solace was that the creatures seemed to be gone, either taken out by the mysterious fighters who'd appeared or, less plausibly, having decided to call it a night. Furō chose to cling to the optimistic option—it was all he had at this point.
As he struggled to his feet, something odd caught his attention. His vision shimmered faintly, as if he were looking through the distorted air of a heatwave. But it was the middle of winter—heatwaves didn't exactly make sense. Furō limped toward what was left of his store, dragging himself inch by inch. When he got close enough to the neon sign that had fallen near the wreckage, he stopped short.
The sign corroded before his eyes, metal sizzling and breaking apart into ash-like dust. Furō's brows furrowed. This was new.
A strange thought occurred to him. Turning his gaze to the lamppost across the street, he decided to test his theory. Ignoring the throbbing in his ankle, he hobbled closer to it. When he stepped within a few meters of the lamppost, the bulb shattered with a sharp pop, and the metal pole began to dissolve, collapsing in on itself like it had been doused in acid.
Furō frowned. It was just like what had happened to his store. Whatever energy had surged through him earlier—whatever had saved him from those creatures—was still active, lingering around him like an invisible acid bath. The realization was equal parts fascinating and terrifying.
Before he could process it fully, a sharp, echoing screech shattered the stillness of the night. Furō whipped his head around to see five more bat-like creatures hurtling toward him, their grotesque forms slicing through the cold air. His stomach sank.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, gripping the metal bat in his hand. It felt like a joke of a weapon against the horrors flying toward him.
Furō braced himself, jaw tight and heart pounding, but just as the creatures closed in, a sharp voice called out from above.
"There's five of them, Noritoshi!"
Furō blinked, looking up to see… a witch? No, not quite. A young girl, dressed in what looked like a sorcerer's uniform, flew overhead on a broomstick, her dress billowing in the wind. Her voice carried a confidence far beyond her years.
Before Furō could even comprehend what he was seeing, four arrows zipped through the air in rapid succession, striking four of the bats and taking them down instantly. Their bodies crumpled mid-flight, crashing into the ground.
But there was still one left. It swerved through the chaos, aiming straight for Furō. He tensed, clutching his bat as the creature descended. A gunshot rang out, sharp and precise, and the creature let out a pained screech as a bullet tore through its wing. Spiraling downward, it flailed, aiming to claw at Furō—but as soon as it entered his corrosive radius, it vaporized in an instant, reduced to nothingness.
Furō stared, wide-eyed. The invisible acid field surrounding him had shrunk significantly. Earlier, it had been wide enough to melt the entire street, but now it only extended a few feet around him.
The young witch landed nearby, keeping a cautious distance from Furō's destructive aura. She looked small but carried herself with an air of authority.
"Wait! Don't come too close," Furō called out, raising his hands in a gesture of warning. "You'll get hurt!"
The girl winced, averting her gaze. "Before you worry about hurting people, you might want to cover up." Her voice was sharp, but there was a tinge of awkwardness as she gestured vaguely at his, well, everything.
Furō laughed nervously and quickly covered himself with his hands.
Moments later, four more figures emerged, sprinting toward him. One was a girl with short blue bangs, clutching a sword. Behind her was a tall, broad-shouldered man with braids, a bow slung over his back. Then came a shorter girl with a sniper rifle—seriously, a sniper rifle—and, bringing up the rear, a… robot? Furō blinked, struggling to process what he was seeing.
Confusion didn't even begin to cover it.
"Who's the cutie?" the short-haired girl asked, leaning casually against the robot. "And why is he naked?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out, Mai," the tall man said, his voice calm but commanding. Furō could tell immediately—this guy was the leader of the group.
"His cursed energy is leaking everywhere! It feels so gross and icky. Can we leave now?" the witch complained, scrunching her nose.
Cursed energy? Furō's mind spun. So that's what this weird acid aura was.
"Can someone get him some clothes?" the blue-haired girl asked, her voice tinged with sympathy. "It's hard to watch him scrape around like that."
"I agree," the robot said, its voice surprisingly monotone.
Furō sat silently, listening to their chatter, frustration mounting. They all seemed very concerned about his nudity, yet no one was offering him anything to wear. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.
"Okay, listen," he said, raising his voice slightly. "I don't know what's happening, why I'm naked, what those monsters were, or what this 'cursed energy' thing is. All I know is that I worked at that store over there—well, I did—and now everything's destroyed!"
The group exchanged glances, and then, as if they'd all come to some unspoken agreement, the man with braids nodded.
"I'll call Principal Gakuganji," he said, pulling out a phone and dialing. He spoke into the receiver, but Furō tuned him out, his thoughts racing.
At least someone in charge might finally explain what was going on.
"So," Mai said, sidling closer with a mischievous grin. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Mai, seriously?" the robot—Mechamaru, apparently—said, his tone exasperated.
"What? I'm just getting to know him!" she shot back, shrugging.
Furō sighed. "I don't even know what's going on, and that's what you're asking?"
The man with braids—Noritoshi, Furō had overheard—finally finished his call and sat down in front of Furō. "We'll explain everything," he said. "Get comfortable."
Fifteen minutes later, Furō was regretting asking for answers. Noritoshi had unloaded a mountain of information about curses, cursed energy, sorcerers, and an entire shadowy organization dedicated to fighting monsters most people couldn't even see. And now, because Furō had "unlocked" his cursed energy through a potent cocktail of fear and regret, he was officially part of their world.
"So, you get it?" Noritoshi asked, finishing his explanation. "You either join us as a sorcerer, or…" He mimed tying a noose around his neck.
"Yeah, I get it," Furō muttered.
Before he could protest further, an old man strolled up to the group. They all bowed, and Furō awkwardly followed suit.
"You must be Principal Gakuganji," Furō said, trying to muster some respect.
"You'll enroll in Kyoto's Jujutsu Technical College tomorrow," the principal said. "Then transfer to Tokyo's the day after. I doubt we'll meet again."
Furō sighed. So much for pleasantries.
"Well," he said, looking at the group. "Lead the way."
And with that, Furō's new life began—still naked and more confused than ever, but ready to face whatever came next.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone