BEEP BEEP
Ali felt a low vibration buzz against his thigh and immediately reached into his pocket with his newly regenerated right hand. Ali opened the old phone and his sharp black eyes immediately narrowed at the screen: the contract page was no longer displaying the enormous reward in gold text—it was now stamped with a glaring red CLOSED.
'He cancelled the contract? I need to get there now!!' Ali's thoughts surged with urgency, his entire focus narrowing down to the task at hand. He opened the phone's map and compared it with the detailed holographic interface glowing from his ring. His cold gaze darted between them until the location of Jujutsu High aligned perfectly on both maps.
FOOSH
Ali took off with explosive force. Dirt and loose stones blasted away behind him as his powerful legs pounded the earth, leaving deep, jagged footprints carved into the ground. He was a blur—a shadow streaking through Tokyo's suburban outskirts, his coat trailing behind him like a black flame.
Within the ancient, serene grounds of Jujutsu High, a tall man with black hair and calm, cold eyes stood alone. A small cursed spirit twisted lazily around his shoulders like a scarf made of malice.
His eyes were downcast, fixed on the broken body of a white-haired boy who lay sprawled at his feet, lifeless and brutalised—his flesh torn, his clothes soaked with blood.
The man didn't speak, but a slight grin played at the corners of his mouth. It was the kind of smile that didn't reflect joy, but the satisfaction of a job completed. Toji Fushiguro, the infamous sorcerer killer, slowly slid his weapon back into the gaping mouth of the cursed spirit.
Then, like a beast sensing something shift in the wind, Toji froze.
His gaze snapped toward a distant cluster of trees at the edge of the forest.
'Someone is there,' he thought with instinctive sharpness, eyes narrowing.
But just as quickly as the presence registered, it vanished—utterly undetectable. A flicker of something, there and then gone, like a ripple in still water.
'Weird.' He didn't linger. With a casual movement, he turned and vanished into the trees, heading toward his true objective—the Star Plasma Vessel.
—
From behind the dense tree line, a figure stepped out into the clearing with caution. It was a teenager, a familiar one—short and slim, wearing the insignia of the Death Guild. His face was slick with sweat, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths.
His hands were trembling slightly.
'What a monster… how did he notice my clone?' the boy thought as he scanned the direction Toji had gone. 'It was using a top-tier Shadow Guild stealth spell, and he still found it. If I hadn't canceled it in time, he might have come after me instead.'
His boots crunched softly on the leaf-littered ground as he stepped toward the mangled body of the white-haired sorcerer. Blood pooled around the lifeless corpse, the metallic scent thick in the air.
The boy stopped just short of the head and quickly made a hand sign.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu," he whispered.
POOSH POOSH POOSH POOSH POOSH
Five clouds of smoke popped into existence in perfect formation, and five identical clones of the boy appeared with guns in their hands. In one smooth motion, all five raised their weapons, aimed directly at the corpse, and pulled the triggers.
RATATATATAT
Bullets tore through the already ruined flesh, turning muscle and bone into pulp, but each clone expertly avoided damaging the head. After a few tense seconds of silence, the boy cautiously approached.
"Please don't move," he muttered under his breath, taking out a small curved knife from his belt.
"What are you doing?"
The voice struck him like a hammer. His eyes widened in shock, immediately recognising the voice. All five clones spun on their heels and pointed their guns at the nearby tree.
There, standing calmly under the dappled shade, was Ali.
His masked face revealed nothing, but his cold gaze pierced through them like a blade.
"None of your business," the kid replied curtly, still kneeling. In his hand was a shiny blue orb—an eye, removed from the white-haired boy's skull. It glistened in the sunlight.
Ali's gaze flicked briefly to the corpse, noting the charred rune on his interface. 'The tattoo was burning in that corpse's direction… until the kid shot the fuck out of it.'
"Where is the Plasma Vessel? Tell me what you know and I'll let you live," Ali said, his voice flat and merciless.
The kid clenched the knife tighter, a brief flash of anger crossing his features, but then he exhaled slowly and stood. "The sorcerer killer went that way. Most likely that's where the vessel is. That's all I know."
Ali stared at him a moment longer and took off his mask before—
"You two looking for the target?"
Another voice, this one older, slower, and carrying a strange calmness.
Ali turned his head casually.
A middle-aged man was walking into the clearing with measured steps, wearing dusty jeans, a tan leather duster, and a worn cowboy hat that shaded his rugged face. A thick, glowing blue revolver rested against his hip in an ornate holster.
"Yes," Ali answered without hesitation, eyes immediately zoning in on the cowboy's draw hand.
'He's good,' Ali thought. The man's hand hovered just inches from the revolver in perfect readiness.
"Protect or kill?" the cowboy asked, tilting his hat forward slightly, hiding his eyes as his other hand flexed near his weapon.
Ali didn't blink.
"Protect," he answered.
A silence passed between them, tense but understanding.
The cowboy paused for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Well, ain't that great, partner. I didn't have to shoot ya." He chuckled warmly and stepped closer, boots crunching softly against gravel and grass.
"Follow me. I know where that son of a bitch went," he said.
Ali studied him for a second longer and gave a simple nod. "I'll follow your lead then."
The two broke into a run, moving together like twin shadows. Austin ran with a relaxed yet explosive gait, keeping pace with Ali with surprising ease.
Ali glanced sideways at him. 'He has at least four points in speed. He's a ranker. Definitely.'
"You been here before?" Ali asked, voice calm even as the wind whipped past them.
"Let's just say it ain't my first rodeo in this fucked up hellhole," the cowboy said without turning.
"You're that famous Ali, ain't ya?"
Ali didn't slow. "Yes. What's your name, cowboy?"
"Heh. The name's Austin. We should be close now." He nodded toward the horizon where a wide stone structure emerged—the entrance to the Tomb of the Stars.
They slowed as they reached the edge of the entrance, the air noticeably thicker with cursed energy.
Ali looked toward the yawning tunnel, black and foreboding like the mouth of a beast.
But then Austin suddenly stopped.
Ali halted too, turning to face him.
"You're not going in?" Ali asked, eyebrows raised beneath his mask.
"No way, partner. That's a death sentence right there," Austin said with a grim chuckle. "That Toji fella's one nasty bastard."
"I see. Well, I'll try my luck," Ali replied, nodding calmly and stepping past the cowboy toward the dark mouth of the tunnel.
Austin turned slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at a group of armed players approaching from a side path.
"And I'll deal with these fools right here," he muttered, lowering his hat with a grin as his fingers rested lightly on his holster.
"Good luck, partner."
"Have fun," Ali replied and put his gold and black mask back on, then vanished into the tunnel like a shadow swallowed by night.
—————
Author here, like I said unfortunately the updates will take a hit for now since I'm studying all the time. Also just a little reminder to all of you, in my ff—a character knowing how to fight is like a superpower, a player who knows how to fight will almost always beat a player who doesn't have the experience but has better stats, almost always.
Please donate some of your power stones, it would help my ff massively.
Five chapters ahead of webnovel on patreon.com/Rondo312