Shinji Akagi followed the faint pull of the cursed map until it led him to an abandoned well at the edge of the village.
The well had dried up years ago. Its mouth was sealed with a heavy stone slab, likely to keep children from falling in.
The treasure was below.
Shinji pushed the stone aside, lit a torch, and jumped.
Mid-fall, he drew a kunai. His feet braced against the stone walls, slowing his descent. The blade bit into cracks in the masonry, bleeding off speed until he landed lightly at the bottom.
He scanned the area.
Nothing.
He began digging.
One meter.
Two.
Three.
Still nothing.
"…Strange."
He pulled out the Cursed Treasure Map.
The moment it touched the air—
It disintegrated.
The scroll turned to ash and sank into the soil at his feet.
The earth trembled.
Mud twisted and folded in on itself, reshaping into a black, ancient-looking chest.
So that's how it works.
The map wasn't pointing to buried treasure.
It was the key.
Only he could trigger it.
Shinji crouched.
He did not think about the word "cursed."
He opened it.
—
The explosion threw Hidan back a step.
A shadow burst from the well.
Then Shinji shot out of the opening, rolling across the ground.
Behind him—
Something black surged upward.
It wasn't smoke.
It wasn't shadow.
It was hair.
An ocean of writhing black hair lashed out from the well, spreading like a living tide.
"What the hell is that?!" Hidan barked.
"You think I know? Help!"
The hair moved with speed and purpose, snapping through the air like whips.
Hidan drew his spear.
Paused.
Put it away.
Wrong tool.
He switched to a kunai.
Hair couldn't be stabbed.
It had to be cut.
The black strands struck.
Shinji moved first.
His kunai flashed.
Every strand that was severed crumbled into dust upon hitting the ground.
The attack was relentless but predictable.
Linear.
No variation.
They retreated while cutting.
Five meters.
Ten.
Twenty.
At roughly fifty meters from the well, the hair snapped taut—
Then began retracting.
Like a tide reversing.
Within seconds, it had vanished back into the darkness below.
Shinji exhaled slowly.
"Range limit… about a hundred meters from the source."
Hidan glared at him.
"Care to explain why the nightmare was chasing you?"
"I don't know what it is."
"Don't lie to me."
Shinji shrugged.
"I hid something in that well years ago. Came back to retrieve it. Instead, I got that."
"What did you hide?"
"Money. Before I joined the Jashin Cult."
Hidan didn't press further.
Instead, he sniffed the air.
"…You smell that?"
Shinji did.
Sweet.
Soft.
Overwhelming.
It wasn't perfume.
It was something deeper.
Something that bypassed thought and went straight to instinct.
Come closer.
Just a little closer.
Shinji felt warmth spreading through his chest.
His limbs relaxed.
Danger.
He drove his kunai into his thigh.
Blood spilled.
Pain flooded his senses.
The haze shattered.
He lifted his head—
And froze.
The ground around them was covered in black hair.
Not attacking.
Just… spreading.
Quietly.
Patiently.
Waiting.