"A new move?" Wolverine raised a brow. "What kind of move?"
Ryuuto grinned. "One that lets me hurt you no matter where you run. I control the pain, the spot, and the damage. You don't even have to stand here for it."
"There's no way that kind of move exists," Wolverine scoffed. "If it did, you'd be invincible."
"Then let's make a believer out of you," Ryuuto said, voice dripping with amusement.
Wolverine chuckled, shaking his head as he turned to leave. But before he could get far, Ryuuto raised his hand, eyes glinting mischievously.
Earlier, when Wolverine's claws pierced Ryuuto's chest, Ryuuto had "accidentally" scratched his arm in return—drawing blood. And that was all he needed.
He licked the blood from his fingertip.
A surge of energy rippled through his body. His skin darkened, thin white bone-like markings crawling across him like cracks of divine power. In seconds, Ryuuto looked less like a man and more like some skeletal deity of death.
He pressed his bloodied palm against his chest, then flung crimson droplets across the ground. The blood traced into intricate lines—a glowing ritual circle of eerie power.
"[Summon: Dark Spear!]" Ryuuto's voice echoed like a war drum.
A black spear descended from thin air, landing in his grasp. It wasn't elegant—just a cold, polished weapon that felt wrong to look at. The short length made it perfect for one thing: self-harm.
"Yeah," Ryuuto smirked, twirling it. "This one's for me."
The curse was simple: he had Wolverine's blood. The seal was drawn. Whatever damage he inflicted on himself would now reflect on Wolverine.
He dragged the spear lightly across his arm.
Miles away, Wolverine froze mid-step. His forearm opened with a shallow wound—out of nowhere.
"What the hell—?!" He looked around wildly. "Who—?!"
No one was near. No bullets, no blades, no enemies. Only silence.
And then realization hit him.
"...Oh, hell no." Wolverine sprinted back toward the training grounds, his body breaking into more cuts along the way. Even his healing factor struggled to keep up.
For a man who'd faced Sentinels, gods, and apocalypse-level mutants, this—this invisible pain—was the first thing in years that truly terrified him.
When he burst into the yard, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Ryuuto stood in the center of the blood circle, markings glowing faintly on his skin, grinning like a devil wearing a halo.
"Back so soon?" Ryuuto teased, hefting the black spear. "Missed me?"
Wolverine's voice cracked. "What the hell did you do!?"
"It's a curse," Ryuuto explained calmly. "Any wound I take, you take. The only way to stop it is if I leave this circle. You could force me out—but an enemy wouldn't get that luxury. If I wanted them dead, I'd just—" he pointed the spear at his heart, "—end it here."
"Another mutant ability?" Wolverine breathed.
"Obviously," Ryuuto shrugged. "All my tricks are."
Wolverine stared at him like he was seeing a myth come to life. "High speed, regeneration, and curses? Kid, you're like a walking mutant arsenal!"
Ryuuto smirked. "And still growing."
Wolverine snorted. "You're already damn near invincible."
"Against the small fries, yeah," Ryuuto said. "But there are bigger monsters out there. If I stop evolving, I'll be the one on the ground next time. I'm not planning to stay anyone's stepping stone."
"That's some fire, kid." Wolverine nodded. "Keep that up."
Ryuuto tilted his head, eyes glinting mischievously. "Say, Wolverine… if I stabbed myself somewhere... delicate—would it, you know… explode on your end?"
Wolverine's face went pale. "Hey! Kid! Don't even joke about that! That's family heirloom territory!"
Ryuuto laughed, waving his hand. "Relax, I'm kidding. Probably."
"That's not a joke you make twice, bub."
Seeing Wolverine's genuine panic, Ryuuto couldn't help but laugh harder.
Even for someone as unflinching as Wolverine, this kind of curse was nightmare fuel.
No wonder—it was straight-up broken.
If he got an enemy's blood and hid somewhere to cast it, they'd be dead before they even realized who cursed them. The only catch? The ritual circle. Step out of it, and the link broke.
"Guess no power's perfect," Ryuuto muttered, studying the markings fading under his feet.
He recalled how the original user of this ability would stab himself through the chest and lie there, worshipping some "dark god" for hours.
"Yeah, that's not my vibe," Ryuuto said, stepping out of the circle.
Instantly, his skin returned to normal. The ominous markings vanished, leaving behind the same cocky, sharp-eyed young man as before.
He tossed the spear lazily upward—where it shimmered and vanished into his Summoning space.
"Ryuuto! Banner and I need to talk!" Tony's voice called from across the field.
Ryuuto gave a casual wave and flashed a grin. "Roger that, Iron Dad."