[246]: Flesh Eater

"You seem really happy to see him," Koen remarked, noticing the shift in the white-haired boy's mood.

He wasn't good at reading human expressions, but as a dog yokai, his instincts were sharp enough to sense people's emotions.

And ever since that person had shown up, Cyr's mood had clearly taken a turn for the better.

Koen genuinely couldn't figure out why.

"He's just a guy with four arms and four eyes… is that really something to get excited about?"

Admittedly, it was a rare sight.

"Is that guy really human? Not a yokai or a demon god?" Koen asked with a strange tone.

A three-headed, six-armed monster would at least make sense as a yokai or demon. But for a human to look like that…

In his several hundred years of life, Koen had never seen a human with such a bizarre form.

"He's entirely human," Gojo Haru answered in his place.

When it came to identifying beings by their essence, Six Eyes didn't lie.

"Then it's impressive he's even made it this far alive," Koen said dryly.

Even half-yokai with mild traits were often killed by humans. But this one—clearly human, yet looking more monstrous than any yokai—how had he survived?

"He's a bit older than I expected," Cyr muttered, rubbing his chin in thought.

Though still a teenager, the boy already stood around two meters tall—much taller than most adults.

He even stood half a head taller than Cyr himself.

Cyr was currently 186cm. If nothing changed, he'd probably reach 190cm in a few more months. But even he didn't have the sheer mass and muscular build that boy had.

That physique had long transcended humanity—it was pure monstrous talent.

"But I'm not interested in fighting him right now. He's still too weak," Cyr added with a shake of his head.

Sukuna hadn't earned his title as King of Curses as a teenager. That reputation came later, probably in his twenties or thirties.

What Cyr remembered most clearly was that version of Sukuna—the one who voluntarily sealed himself away for a thousand years.

A cunning, calculating monster.

And all of that took time to develop.

The Sukuna standing before him now wasn't yet the King of Curses.

Fighting him at this stage would be nothing short of bullying.

Besides…

There was another reason Cyr didn't want to engage him yet—

The Domain: Malevolent Shrine.

Skills could be copied. Techniques could be mimicked. But Domains—Domains were unique.

No two people could possess the same Domain.

And the moment Cyr laid eyes on the young Sukuna, the system issued a prompt:

[Current Character – Ryomen Sukuna (Developing Stage)]

[Domain: Malevolent Shrine is locked. Cannot be used against this target.]

In other words, Cyr could only use Limitless Void against Sukuna, and save Malevolent Shrine for someone like Gojo Satoru.

Maybe this had been the system's intention from the start—its warning when he first arrived in this world.

He wasn't just supposed to learn techniques—he was meant to own them. Make them his.

Which meant… he had to create his own Domain.

But no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't settle on one.

He had considered trying to construct a Domain based on "Cthulhu Mythos" aesthetics, something otherworldly and incomprehensible—but he quickly realized it was impossible.

Though Limitless Void allowed for information overload, it didn't compare to the madness-inducing nature of eldritch horrors.

To put it simply, it wasn't "Cthulhu-tier."

So there was no way to create that kind of effect.

"What I need is a proper rival… and honestly, he's the best option," Cyr murmured thoughtfully.

Because when facing others, Cyr had access to two techniques and two Domains, allowing him to dominate nearly every opponent.

But when it came to Sukuna, that overwhelming advantage would be diminished.

If he truly wanted to sharpen and improve himself, then in this era, only Sukuna could serve as a worthy rival.

After all... Gojo Satoru didn't exist in this time.

Gojo Haru was not Gojo Satoru's past life—their Domains weren't even the same.

Even if it was reincarnation, the soul would remain the same, and so the Domain should have been the same as well.

"But it's not time yet. He still needs to become stronger," Cyr said.

"And people like him… usually get stronger the more they fight."

"So…" the white-haired boy smiled.

"I'll just have to wait a little longer."

Someone like that? It was impossible for them not to get into fights.

And more importantly… his diet was rather special.

Although technically human, he ate people—already no different from a yokai.

That made him a natural enemy of sorcerers and onmyoji alike.

"What a shame…" Cyr glanced toward Gojo Haru and sighed.

It was such a pity that this guy's Domain wasn't Limitless Void.

Otherwise, Cyr would've figured everything out already.

Still… it's not like there was no effect.

Sometimes, Gojo Haru could see through Cyr's eyes—and vice versa.

It was as if… they shared the same pair of eyes.

"..." Even through the blindfold, Gojo Haru could feel that regretful gaze.

But he still couldn't understand—what was Cyr regretting?

"He shouldn't be called 'Fallen,' he should be called Ryomen Sukuna," Cyr muttered.

"Fallen" was such a cringy, try-hard name. It wasn't nearly as memorable or distinct as Ryomen Sukuna.

After all, we were talking about a demon god. Even the name should carry an ominous weight.

"Koen, want to do something for me?" Cyr turned to the canine yokai.

"Just say the word," the great yokai replied grandly.

They were all family now—why talk about favors?

"Go spread a rumor among the yokai clans," the white-haired youth said with a pleasant smile.

Koen narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but then he heard what Cyr whispered—

---

"Ryomen Sukuna!"

"It's Ryomen Sukuna!"

"That four-armed, four-eyed demon god…"

Birds scattered from the trees, flapping away frantically. Lesser yokai scrambled over each other trying to escape.

Within moments, the entire area was deserted.

"Fallen," who had originally intended to find some high-level yokai for fun, looked at the eerily empty space around him and wore a blank expression.

This was already the umpteenth time this month this had happened.

The moment yokai saw him, they'd scream "Ryomen Sukuna's here!" and scatter like pigeons.

Even if they couldn't run fast enough, it made no difference—he never let any of them go.

Naturally, all that was left behind were corpses.

"Tastes awful," he muttered, biting into the arm of some nameless yokai before casually tossing it far away.

It was so bad, just looking at it pissed him off.

Most yokai had toxic blood or flesh, yet he felt nothing eating it.

"Human flesh tastes better," Fallen murmured, licking the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Uraume, I want meat," he lazily ordered his attendant.

"As you wish," the white-haired, bob-cut youth knelt with one knee to the ground, head lowered.

For Fallen, fighting strong opponents brought him pleasure.

So did eating.

His desires were entirely derived from battle and consumption.

And where yokai gathered, there were often human villages nearby.

Children and women might not be plentiful, but there were always some.

Uraume naturally made his way toward one such village.

°°°

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