Yoshihara Shrine had once stood in a different part of Tokyo, but after a devastating historical fire, it was relocated to its current position in Taitō Ward. Countless tragic deaths had occurred during that disaster, and over time, rumors began to circulate—stories of wandering spirits appearing near the shrine late at night. Whether people truly believed them or not hardly mattered.
Rumors alone were enough to give birth to curses.
Cursed spirits were manifestations of accumulated human negativity—fear, resentment, suspicion, malice. As long as people believed that Yoshihara Shrine was haunted, curses would continue to form there, regardless of how many were exorcised.
"Curses really are strangely idealistic things," Leon murmured.
He and Kamo Mayumi stood on the embankment near the shrine, the early spring night air still carrying a sharp chill. After listening to his mother's explanation, Leon asked, "If rumors create curses, why not suppress the rumors and eliminate them at the source?"
"Because rumors are easy to spread and nearly impossible to erase," Mayumi replied. "Even if you remove them here, they'll simply form somewhere else. As long as humans exist, curses will never disappear. That's why sorcerers often allow certain locations to become fixed hotspots and clear them regularly instead of chasing random outbreaks everywhere."
Leon nodded. It wasn't glamorous, but it was efficient—routine patrol work, not heroic battles every day.
"So Tokyo life won't be that different after all," he muttered. "Train, patrol, repeat."
He glanced toward Gardevoir. "Xiaosha, do you sense anything?"
"Sha."
Her tone sharpened immediately. To her, curses were like flares in the darkness—intense concentrations of emotion she instinctively disliked.
Gardevoir raised her hand, ready to act.
"Wait," Mayumi said quickly. "You're too visible. First rule—never let ordinary people see sorcery."
She formed a quick hand seal and spoke quietly:
"Curtain."
Darkness flowed outward like ink spreading across water, forming a translucent barrier that sealed the embankment area away from the surrounding streets. Within seconds, the space was isolated from normal perception.
Mayumi straightened slightly, clearly pleased with herself.
Leon barely suppressed a smile. "Alright. Xiaosha, go ahead—clear them out."
"Sha!"
Gardevoir lifted both hands.
The surface of the river suddenly froze mid-current. Then, as if pulled apart by invisible hands, the water split open, revealing the riverbed below. Fish and shrimp flopped helplessly in the exposed shallows until Gardevoir gently guided them back into the water with careful psychic control.
Something else, however, received no such mercy.
A pale figure was dragged upward from the depths—a drowned-looking female spirit in tattered white clothing, long black hair hanging over a burned and swollen face. Its distorted mouth stretched unnaturally wide, letting out a thin, hollow whisper.
"I'm… so lonely…"
The moment it cleared the water, invisible pressure crushed inward.
With a single tightening motion of Gardevoir's telekinesis, the curse shattered into fragments of dissipating energy.
But that was only the beginning.
The river churned violently again. Dozens—then hundreds—of pale figures surged upward in a spectral tide, an entire swarm of drowned spirits rushing toward the embankment.
Leon wasn't surprised. Weak curses tended to cluster together; a single one would never match Yoshihara's reputation.
Floating calmly in the air, Gardevoir extended a finger and tapped lightly at the empty space before her.
Pop.Pop.Pop.
Each gentle motion erased another curse, as if she were bursting bubbles. Mind power alone was enough. Before the swarm even reached the shore, more than half had already vanished.
The remaining spirits attempted to scatter, but Gardevoir tightened her psychic field, drawing them closer before crushing them all at once.
Leon chuckled. "Looks like it's—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Among the collapsing swarm, one spirit surged forward instead of disintegrating. Dark blue mist gathered beneath its feet while faint flames flickered across its body, its presence instantly heavier than the rest.
"Finally, something interesting," Leon said quietly. "Second grade? Or close to first?"
"Quasi–first grade," Mayumi answered, stepping forward slightly. "After that beating, I should be able to handle it."
She began to speak again, preparing to demonstrate her cursed technique—only to pause.
A different surge of energy had appeared beside her.
Leon stepped forward, rolling his shoulder once. He clenched his fist and threw a single, casual punch.
The air cracked.
The charging spirit slammed into the ground as if struck by an invisible hammer, its torso collapsing inward while spiderweb fractures spread across the pavement beneath it.
Mayumi stared.
"…Leon?"
She suddenly realized something she had overlooked all these years.
Even without an inherited cursed technique, her son had never been physically ordinary.