Shinji didn't avoid danger after that.
He went looking for it.
Not recklessly or blindly—he paid attention to the land, tracking how cursed energy pooled and thinned, learning where weaker curses gathered and where they didn't.
Those places interested him more.
By the fourth day, his body still ached from the earlier fight. His ribs burned when he twisted too far, and his shoulder protested whenever he raised his arm too quickly.
He ignored it, brushing aside the ache as if it meant nothing.
Pain wasn't new. It was information.
The next curse he found was smaller than the one that had nearly killed him.
That should have been reassuring.
It wasn't.
The thing clung to a half-collapsed structure, its form stretched thin and twitching, eyes opening and closing across its surface without rhythm.
Shinji didn't hang back. He approached openly, making no attempt to hide.
The curse noticed him at once.
Good.
He didn't wait for it to move.
He stepped in and struck first.
The blow landed cleanly, exactly where he wanted it to. The curse recoiled, shrieking, and lashed out.
Shinji let it.
The strike grazed his side. Pain flared—sharp, immediate.
He pressed forward.
Again.
His breathing stayed controlled. His movements stayed precise. He forced the exchange longer than necessary.
Come on, he thought.
Nothing happened.
No shift.No clarity.No strange detachment.
Just pain.
The curse caught him across the shoulder, tearing flesh. Blood ran hot down his arm. Shinji grunted and stepped back, heart hammering.
Still nothing.
This wasn't like before.
He hadn't crossed the line.
Annoyance flickered, brief and sharp.
He stepped back in.
That was when the curse surged forward with unexpected speed. Its strike caught Shinji in the ribs and drove him into the stone behind him.
Pain exploded. His breath left him in a ragged gasp.
This time, fear crept in.
Not panic—calculation.
Too far.
He forced himself to move, ducking under another strike and slashing low. The curse shrieked and recoiled, giving him space.
Shinji didn't chase. He held his ground.
He finished it cleanly and stepped back, chest heaving.
Nothing followed.
No release.No letting go.
His injuries hurt exactly as much as they should have.
Shinji leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting. Blood soaked into his sleeve. His side throbbed with every breath.
He waited.
And waited.
The panel appeared minutes later.
Unchanged.
Shinji stared at it longer than he had before.
So it wasn't something he could summon.
Not with intent.Not with effort.
Only when the outcome was already decided.
He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes.
Good.
That meant he couldn't cheat.
It meant every fight still mattered.
Shinji pushed himself to his feet, wincing as his ribs protested.
If that state only came when he had nothing left—
then he would have to earn it every time.
And survive the rest on his own.
He wiped the blood from his hand and started walking again.
This time, carefully.