[Naruto + Curse] Magician's Guide to Reemployment

She has seen a lot of naked death, bloody, fragmented, silent... raging like waves, but like a TV channel that has been muted, and the sound cannot penetrate half a foot away from the cold screen. .

It was thrilling, but in the end it turned into silence, as quiet as death. The dead eventually turn into soil, dust, and the like, and the last thing left behind is just a bluish-white tombstone, letting the wind erode the writings engraved on the stone slab.

This was not the first time she faced a strong sense of near-death, with only the smell of the wind leaving her mind blank and her limbs trembling. The sharp blade that came from the underworld to kill her was hanging above her head, and it would fall with just a flick of her finger. Rongdao Quan felt the creepy furry tingling sound from the soles of her feet, crawling over her tailbone, climbing up her spine, tightening her throat, and piercing through the top of her head. The long knife that penetrated her hand was docile and docile.

How many of them disappeared from the world without a trace? So natural, just like breathing, like the white snow in early spring is destined to melt, and the heavy rain is bound to rain down the heavy flowers on the treetops.

She suddenly remembered the time when she entered a high school, three years, three years. Her teacher had a pair of clear blue eyes, which seemed to be an extension of the sky - maybe the end of the sky had already fallen into his eyes.

Until she graduated from junior high school, Longdao only regarded herself as a slightly different girl. Born in an ordinary middle-class family, she was the only child among her parents. Like other children of the same age, she wonders what kind of lunch to bring for an outing, how short a uniform skirt should be cut to be beautiful without being warned by the inspector, or how to get a report card with excellent grades written on it— — are troubled by questions like these. The only difference is a pair of eyes, a pair of eyes that can see things that others cannot see.

At first, I could only glimpse the corner of the pink love letter hidden under the pillow, catching a faint shadow passing by. Afterwards, the focus was restored, and the furry protrusions on the edge of the letter paper were clearly visible. This description doesn't seem to be appropriate. That weird creature has evil thoughts that are as thick as a velvet blanket, yet so pure and paradoxical. At first, I just saw it, until she left the house and melted into the heavy rain far away from her hometown. The rain was velvety, soft and light, covering her from head to toe in moisture, as soft as the moonlight.

Something thick and warm ran along the roots of her hair, almost crawling into her eyes from her forehead, making her long eyelashes wet and sticky. Rongdao freed up a hand to wipe it off, lowered his center of gravity, and suddenly felt that the current moonlight was like the misty rain. Everything here - the Special Class dragging his broken body in the darkness, the Curse Master who was pressed and impaled by her a while ago, and even herself - are all flowers that are about to fall.

As the end approached, she became calmer and calmer. Thinking about the desserts in Nagoya, the color as hot as lava at sunset, the rolling sand in the morning sun, the aroma coming from the kitchen... Finally, I returned to my body rooted on the cement floor.

"Why do you want to become a conjurer?"

The principal, who was standing in the felt body, asked her.

What did she answer then?

Can't remember.

The attack that came through the air was about to tear her apart, tearing her from the center into pieces of lifeless flesh. I want her to be broken into periods in the article, I want her to turn into fibers in the soil.

Longdao bowed his body, and the tip of the knife was at the same level as his shoulder, turning into a straight line in his field of vision. The buildings and trees that were bent, crushed, and crushed were rumbling and screaming. She was accumulating strength, and the strings tightened into a round moon.

Abandon the distance and throw yourself into the arms of death with confidence.

She looked really miserable. The long hair, which he had always been good at taking care of, was tangled together, covered with caked blood, half burned by the flames from the previous explosion, curled up like an insect, turned black, and exuded a smell of burnt feathers and leather.

But it's such a pity that I won't be able to hear that weird voice anymore. Is it from a parallel world, or is it a second personality that she split off when she finally went crazy? If it's the latter, then her alter ego's voice is really nice. The dome is a dark tent, and the creatures in the tent must not step out of here. She teleported to the top of the top of the special class, and took on the attacks that she could not dodge. Her blood and the long blade rushed towards the special curse spirit, winding from under her dark school uniform to the blade embedded in the shoulder and neck muscles of the curse spirit, and then from The cursed spirit flowed down the river on its purple skin.

Senior, senior! The anxious calls of fellow juniors came from the ground.

Lengdao freed up her hands to quickly form seals, feeling that the cold air was about to penetrate into her body.

"--[zero]!"

Light suddenly appeared.

Nanami-senpai is right, spellcasters are all bullshit.

Long Daoquan's funeral was held a few days later. There were not many people attending the funeral and the funeral itself was simple.

[First-level conjurer, Longdao Quan, confirmed dead. ]

After the account was lifted, the auxiliary supervisor quickly confirmed the news. At that time, Gojo Satoru had not yet withdrawn from overseas affairs.

Among the students of the same class, after Long Dao died in the line of duty, there was only one second-level conjurer left who intended to leave the conjuring world. Long Dao's death seemed to speed up the process. She silently submitted her application for withdrawal from school and did not even attend Long Dao's funeral.

It is true that the death of a companion is something that one will face sooner or later, and it is as cold and hard as a rock. But no one told the young conjurer how she would look or feel when she was the only one of the students in the same class. Why am I the one who survived, she thought, and she also wondered whether the unclear-looking Long Dao had the same idea during the funeral of the first person who died in the line of duty.

After all, it is unknown.

What kind of person is that Long Island senior? Someone quietly asked their teacher. He was as sleepy as a small animal about to fall into hibernation at any time, but his eyes hidden in the long hair were calm and cold. She should be one of the new generation of young conjurers alongside him, that's how it should be. Thinking of the appearance of Gōshima Izumi, the white-haired strongest smiled slightly and answered.

"He's a pretty reliable little lunatic."

The sky is clear and the sunshine is warm. The sunny weather after the rain was too pleasant. It had rained overnight the day before, and there was still moisture on the grass.

It will also be nice weather tomorrow.

More than a year ago, Longdao once mentioned something to Dr. Glass. When the doctor was using the inversion technique to treat her bruised injuries, the girl suddenly asked: "Miss Glass, do you think it is possible for a person to suddenly split into a second personality?"

"I'm not a psychiatrist," Jiazi took off her gloves and signaled her to get out as soon as she could move around. "But if you continue to act recklessly, sooner or later you will be dissected by me." She lit a cigarette and pointed with her chin. Scalpel on the table.

"Definitely next time." Longdao coughed twice, and after he recovered, he looked like he was about to fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

A month had passed since that day, the first time someone in their second year class died in the line of duty. Gagejima didn't seem interested in continuing, perhaps because the words needed to express her feelings were too long, so he lost interest before she could speak, so he simply burned them all on fire. Her eyebrows were curled up due to sleepiness, and she hid in her thick hair. She stared at the light and darkness of the fire from a distance, feeling drowsy.

Glass silently lit another cigarette, and thin light blue smoke drifted out of the window in the wind.

The Neon Country has a population of more than 100 million, and there are only a very small number of spellcasters among them, and there are even fewer spellcasters above the first level. Classifying curse spirits does not mean much in Gojo Satoru's opinion. It may be used as a reference within a certain range, but chance and unpredictability cannot be underestimated.

Just like the original second-level curse spirit that unexpectedly broke through to a special level in this mission. If there was no such chance, maybe a young first-year magician could clean it out. But they were eventually hit by a small chance of misfortune.

This result can finally be attributed to: she just had bad luck. As long as she stays in the world of magic for a day, death may come to her at any time, like the sword of Damocles hanging above her head.

For senior leaders, the vacancy in strength can be filled by quantity. Cage Island simply became one of those sacrificed quantities.

Gojo Satoru stopped for a while not far away. His eyes passed through the opaque sunglasses and paused on the newly built blue and white stone tablet. When answering students' questions, the corners of his mouth that were always raised lowered into a straight line.

In the end, it was Glass who took the first graders who had no mission to collect the relics on Cage Island. Another first-year student who was in the tent on the same day is still recovering from his injuries in the school doctor's office. His two classmates followed Glass to the late senior's apartment. The two children followed Glass, tied up and nervous, as if a monster with three heads and six arms would pounce out from the corner of the room at the next moment and bite their throats.

The apartment is not big. The largest piece of furniture in the whole room is a huge bookcase. The bookshelf is filled with books, arranged in an irregular order. Cage Island rarely organizes bookshelves. Although the books are generally classified according to type, there are always some places where you can see the clues of the owner's careless placement. There are occasional gaps in the wall full of books, like the leaky gums after a fallen tooth, or the cob exposed among the plump golden corn kernels.

The missing books lie hunched over on the desk, or stacked in a pile, lying on their backs to form a crumbling mountain. The pages are slightly curled at the edges, as if they have been turned over many times. The dark book title is printed on the arched spine.

There was a thin layer of gray on the ground, and the light streaming in from the window dyed it a warm gold. Looking closer, it was still lifeless gray and black.

Glass opened the refrigerator, and there lay something called a part of Longdao's life - the crisper box contained clean vegetables, and there was still moist moisture on the radishes and broccoli. A plate of curry rice that she didn't have time to finish, a plate of ice cream cake that was cut into one third... Now she was going to throw these things out.

Two first-year students cautiously asked Glass: "Shouldn't this kind of thing be done by informing the family members of Gōjima-senpai?" They probably felt that they were overstepping their bounds, and they couldn't let go of touching the belongings of a strange senior. The doctor emptied the refrigerator without looking back. The garbage bags were covered with cream that was still at the temperature of the refrigerator. She straightened up and said in a calm tone: "There is no one who can inform me."

The young conjurers instantly understood the meaning of this sentence and suddenly fell silent.

Among the seniors in the third grade, Rong Daoquan is the most withdrawn and difficult to get along with. When the classroom teacher occasionally goes on a business trip or finds an excuse to sneak out to do something, the third grade will take over the practical classes. In my impression, Longdao always seemed to be sitting on a chair outside the training ground with one leg crossed, his eyes open and listless. But when they thought she had fallen asleep, Cageshima could often accurately point out the flaws of the first-year students who were practicing.

"Wrist. Don't tighten it so tightly." He sounded like someone about to fall into sleep just now, but his voice was sober. It was only then that they realized she hadn't just fallen asleep on the training ground. Longdao yawned first, and then slowly covered his mouth. She seemed to have never woken up all year round, and there was always a hazy sleepiness on her face.

It is said that due to the curse on his body in the early years, Longdao's body often showed signs of illness. When the seasons change, we often catch wind and cold every time. In the winter, I am wrapped up like a moving plush bunker, from head to toe I want to be wrapped up tightly and airtight... Even in the hottest part of summer, my uniform jacket is always with me.

Probably because she often couldn't wake up, she didn't have many expressions on her face. She looked at people through the gap between her eyelashes, and she seemed indifferent to everything.

When she was ill, books became her only way out. She looked for the pleasant time apart from the pain from the books on the wall and the neatly printed lines. There, she was no longer a patient with a curse and her organs were weakening day by day; nor was she a first-level magician who was helpless in the face of the death of her companions at any time in the magic world, wandering between life and death; at those moments, she was just A nameless person is nobody and therefore can be anyone.

No one looks forward to living like a normal person more than a terminally ill person.

The sound of the edge of the trash can hitting the ground broke the silence. Glass picked up the bulging bag and walked to the entrance: "Don't be lazy." The first grader responded hurriedly, and separated the items placed in the cabinets on the countertop into cartons. When it was getting dark, the entire apartment had been almost cleaned, leaving only a bookshelf of books still standing on the wall, casting a dark shadow along the light. Nizi crushed the cigarette butt that was almost burning to his fingertips at the entrance. The ashes fell down and were carried away by the wind. If you have any books you want to read, please take them with you. She said, "Longdao had this idea before. You can't just throw the whole wall of books into the fire and burn them to ashes, leaving them without knowing where to send them." who.

When there were three students in the second grade, Longdao accidentally mentioned this idea. If one day she died in the line of duty first, she would give the entire book wall to the other two. Now this wish may be difficult to realize, and by extension, giving it to the younger generation in higher education is also a solution.

When the three of them came out of Longdao House, they happened to run into a neighbor's child. It seems that they are still in elementary school. When they saw them walking out of the neighbor's sister's apartment with their big and small suitcases, they looked like they wanted to go forward to find out, but they were afraid of strangers.

The three adults and one child stared at each other blankly for a while. Glass squatted down and asked, "What's the matter, kid?" Just when the child took two steps back and hesitated to deny it, the door of the apartment on the other side of the road appeared. A woman with short hair came out.

"Junpei - are you ready to eat? Why are you..." Mrs. Yoshino also noticed the large and small boxes of luggage at the neighbor's door. She stopped what she was about to say and opened her eyes in surprise, "Oh... you guys They are Ms. Longjima’s teachers and classmates. Is this...? Does it mean that Miss Longjima is moving away?”

"Eh? This is because..." The one who answered was a taller first grader. He only had time to start, when he was stabbed in the elbow by his companion. Glass stood up slowly, smoothed the wrinkles on his clothes, and replied calmly: "Ah, because there is a good development opportunity... She is still going through the procedures, so we stopped by to pack her luggage."

Mrs. Yoshino showed a gentle and slightly reluctant smile: "That's great, but it's a pity that I can't say goodbye to Miss Longjima in person."

"...But Longdao asked us to convey it on your behalf. Thank you for your tolerance and care over the past five years."

Until the door of Yoshino's house blocked the light inside, Mrs. Yoshino could still vaguely hear Mrs. Yoshino lamenting how polite and sensible Cageshima was.

It will also be a nice day tomorrow.