Threadbare Hope - Chapter 43

"What the fuck is that?!"

My brain stuttered mid-thought as the monstrosity in front of me heaved itself up. It was bigger now. Taller. Slimier. The blue skin almost pulsed, stretched across four skeletal arms that looked like they belonged to a starving corpse. Its tail—because of course it had a tail—slapped across the shattered tiles, dragging slime and pressure behind it.

But what got me—what made my stomach flip—were the faces.

Three of them.

One where a head should be, the biggest, almost human but with round, fish-like eyes that didn't blink. The other two jutted from its shoulders like some unholy crown—mouths open, twitching, gnashing. As if they were screaming underwater.

And in its mouth—no way.

No. Fucking. Way.

"Is that a Sukuna finger?!"

It was. I'd seen enough of them in the manga. Enough to know exactly what that thing was crunching on like a dog toy. A cursed object so potent that even Gojo would raise an eyebrow.

"This was supposed to be a Grade 1 curse at best," I whispered, heart pounding. "Not a finger demon... not a fucking Sukuna-level demon!"

The cursed energy leaking off this thing was horrifying—not as massive as Rika's, but dense, compressed. Dangerous. I could feel it humming in the air like a wire pulled too tight.

And for one long moment, I thought about turning around.

Just running.

Because I wasn't ready. My cursed energy was still unstable. My body would break in two if I got hit directly. I didn't have a cursed technique that was made for full-on combat, and I had never fought anything this strong before.

But then—I saw it.

The finger. Still only halfway chewed.

It hasn't finished eating it yet...

I clenched my fists.

There was still time.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! KID! RUN AWAY! DON'T STAND HERE!"

Utahime's voice sliced through the chaos. She was yelling at me—probably still in shock.

I rolled my eyes. "Really? I just saved your ass."

Before I could get smug, a massive swoosh cracked the air. I didn't even look—I just moved.

A water blade tore through the space where I'd just been standing.

My hands snapped forward. Red Stitch burst from my palms, thin glowing lines that wrapped around a metal pole behind me. I tugged, swung wide, and landed low.

Barely dodged it.

"Fast," I thought. "Strong too... but there's a tell."

It pulled its arm up before it shot the blade.

"Okay. Gotcha. That's your wind-up."

I looked at the finger. Still there. Still glowing, still sealed—barely.

"I just need to get that finger out before it finishes eating. Ha... possible."

I jumped.

My body—still shaky from the lack of sleep, training, everything—moved purely on instinct. Cursed energy covered every inch of me, buzzing in my skin, nerves, and bones.

Red Stitch bloomed from my arms, wrapping around rails, cracked flooring, and even debris mid-air. I yanked hard, launching myself like a slingshot through the broken park ceiling.

A blur.

The curse screamed.

I was already above it.

Strings whipped through the air, latching onto a dozen surfaces. I used them all.

Swing.

Dodge.

Swing again.

Rocks, metal pipes, broken tiles—I hurled everything I could find using Red Stitch. Like a storm of garbage aimed at a god.

The curse flinched.

It screamed again, twisting, raising its arms.

And it got pelted. Fast, blunt impacts hitting all over its face, chest, and shoulders.

That was enough.

While it was distracted—

While its rage was clouding its judgment—

I moved in closer.

Utahime was still watching. Her eyes were wide and frozen. She had never seen someone move like this.

Never seen someone fight like this.

Using movement, clutter, and distraction instead of raw power.

She stared, stunned.

"This kid... who is he?"

And then—

I hooked three threads onto a rusted iron rod just above the curse.

Tugged.

The rod groaned, cracked free, and I yanked it downward—aiming straight for the top of the curse's head.

The monster tried to react.

Tried to raise its arms.

But they didn't move.

Utahime's jaw dropped.

Red strings—Red Stitch—wrapped tight around the curse's limbs.

Bound.

When did he—?

I grinned.

"Checkmate, dumbass."

All those rocks, all that garbage I threw? That wasn't the attack.

That was the distraction.

While I was bombarding it, I'd been weaving my strings toward its limbs, hiding them behind the chaos.

Now?

Its arms couldn't move. No wind-up. No water blades.

"I win," I thought, heart pounding, grin growing.

Even if the rod didn't kill it, I'd be close enough to grab the finger.

I win!

I fell with the rod.

Strings anchoring me.

Eyes locked on the prize.

Then—

The corpse's shoulder twitched.

"What...?"

A small mouth on its shoulder opened.

"What the—?"

WHOOSH!!!

BOOM!!!

A jet of water blasted out like a cannon.

Point-blank.

I didn't even see it coming.

The force ripped through the air like a sonic boom.

"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!!! IT'S GOING TO SHOOT OUT OF ITS SHOULDERS!!!" Utahime screamed.—

But it was too late.