Special Grade Curse Spirit, True Person.
It possesses a technique that can directly touch the soul and alter its form; to True Person, the soul appears before the flesh. In fact, no matter what kind of damage is inflicted on True Person, as long as the soul remains unhard, the damage is insignificant.
According to True Person, no Curse Master is a match for it, as they don’t know how to protect their own souls. As long as it makes contact, it can activate its technique, twist the opponent’s soul, and kill them.
In front of True Person, even soone as strong as Gojo Satoru has to be cautious to avoid being touched. And now, it has already grasped Duanmu Huai’s wrist; in True Person’s perspective, this marks its victory!
But now is not the ti to boast about victory!
The opponent is soone ruthless enough to have slain Two-faced SuNu, so imdiate action is necessary!
"Wuwei Transformation!"
Accompanied by True Person’s shout, it felt its power penetrating deep into Duanmu Huai’s body, then touching the other’s soul.
Victory!
At this mont, excitent flickered in True Person’s eyes; a powerful Curse Master who could even kill Two-faced SuNu would soon beco its collectible!
This proves, I am the strongest!
However, True Person’s excitent lasted less than a second.
"Huh?"
True Person had no idea what had happened; it widened its eyes and looked at its own body. At this mont, its body was no longer that of a young man in his twenties. Instead, it swelled up like wriggling maggots, resembling a stuffed sausage, with limbs branching like tree roots and fingers turning into slender tendrils.
True Person now looked less human and more like a ginseng root.
"Why?"
True Person could not comprehend; it understood what had happened. At the instant its power touched Duanmu Huai’s soul, an incredibly strange force attacked, rendering its soul-protecting technique utterly useless.
Now, its soul was completely invaded and twisted by this bizarre force, changing irreversibly.
"Wh... why... what... exactly are you..."
True Person gaped, staring at Duanmu Huai, who calmly withdrew his hand. At that mont, it saw, saw the girl’s true soul—a vast horror filled with distortion, darkness, and destruction.
Countless eyes erged, staring back. As True Person sensed the gaze, fear coursed through every blood vessel in its body. A thousand mouths echoed like death tal drums, resonating deep within True Person’s soul, nearly shattering its sanity.
The soul began to mold, deform; the force perated every corner like poisonous venom, devouring it like highly corrosive sulfuric acid. True Person wanted to scream, but its mouth could no longer make a sound; opening its mouth revealed vocal cords and tongues transford into dozens of soft, thin tendrils, exploding outward like octopus tentacles, blooming inside its mouth like sea anemones.
The bloated body gradually turned into a puddle of mush, as if a balloon filled with air had been punctured, with the deford, twisted body slowly sliding toward the ground, lacking bones for support, becoming a mass of mollusks.
"———————"
Countless eyes erged from the creases like those of a 300-kilogram person’s belly rolls, gazing at Duanmu Huai with terror, as if beholding sothing indescribably fearso—more detestable than death, more frightening than nightmares.
Throughout the process, Duanmu Huai did nothing; rely took a napkin from his pocket to wipe his hands and tossed it aside. Such a simple act, and by the ti Duanmu Huai discarded the napkin, what had once been True Person had morphed into an indescribable, writhing mass of flesh, resembling a large pancake of mixed at lying on the ground.
Each crease was a mouth, opening with screams akin to an imbecile, and amidst the sharp teeth, eyes filled with terror were visible, peering like mice in their holes, furtively watching the cats outside.
This scene was so terrifying that even the monk, previously smiling, now stared stiffly, unable to speak, watching the utterly transford True Person.
Until True Person’s body began expanding again, then burst into a puddle of mush with a "whoosh", causing the monk to shudder back into consciousness, staring at Duanmu Huai in fear.
By this ti, the monk’s face had long lost its prior composure.
"Now it’s your turn."
Duanmu Huai gripped the sword hilt, staring at the monk, who, pale-faced, repeatedly retreated.
"Who... who exactly are you?!"
The monk could not fathom why True Person had beco this way. He understood why it happened; True Person had once twisted human souls to shape humans into monsters. Conversely, if True Person’s soul were twisted, it would naturally mutate.
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