The Strongest Curse Master

"Shell? What do you mean?" Ace asked, frowning. Delores had gotten sidetracked, and he still didn’t have a clear answer about the Rust Worms’ abilities.

"These Rust Worms down below… they’re housing the souls of mortals," Delores explained, her tone grim. "They’re using the worms’ abilities to transfer their souls into a new body when their old one becomes useless."

Seeing the confusion deepen on Ace’s face, she sighed and elaborated, "The founder of the Samsara branch developed a modified version of the curse slave art—one that only works on Rust Worm Curseling eggs. He called it the Cursed Samsara Art. The crazy part? It has a way higher success rate for turning mortals into curse slaves compared to regular curse slave arts.

"With this art, a mortal dies and is reborn as a Rust Worm. From there, they infest the innate cursed tool of a comatose mortal-tier Curse Master. Once inside, they’re taught advanced cursed body possession arts. The faster they master it, the lower their number in the line to choose a new body.

"When their number is called, they get to choose their new body from the stockpile of imprisoned Curse Masters—who aren’t comatose and limited to mortal tier. If they’re confident in their cursed body possession arts, they can even go after Hero-tier or Earth-tier Curse Masters… assuming any are in stock."

Ace’s stomach twisted at the implications. This wasn’t just body-snatching. It was a factory for mass-producing immortal parasites to create a curse user of any desired curse tier.

"This is the most horrifying thing about the Cursed Samsara Art," Delores continued, her voice laced with unease. "A curse slave could even possess the body of a Void-tier if they dared and were capable of it. But what’s even more terrifying? These Rust Worm curse slaves can choose to infest the core of a curseling instead of a Curse Master—and live as a curseling themselves. Many do. It’s easier than possessing a Curse Master, and curselings are a hell of a lot stronger.

"If these assholes don’t get their way soon, their entire armada of curselings will be here. And trust me, they’re not afraid to go all out. Their numbers are just too large. Even if we were to assume that they were only activated for the past 22 years, that’s more than enough time to recruit a ridiculous amount of mortals—this is especially true since they even managed to infiltrate the C.I.B.," Delores said, her experience showing in the weight of her words.

Ace processed everything quickly before asking, "The C.I.B. has Curse Slave Rust Worms too, right? To make their own army of curselings? Honestly, I’d be surprised—and a little disappointed—if they didn’t." He figured the government had been around long enough to develop some method of controlling a curseling army. It’d be stupid not to.

Delores glanced at him, an amused smirk forming. "No wonder Matthews likes you so much," she said, casting a quick glance toward Man Hunter, who was still following them closely. "I’ve only seen her get this clingy when she was trying to recruit Young Master Crimson Eyes."

The fact that Ace’s first thought after listening to her explanation was to use the Cursed Samsara Art to build his own army of curselings finally gave Delores a glimpse into what Matthews saw in him.

Just as Delores and Man Hunter were preoccupied in their thoughts on Samsara cult, Ace suddenly stomped on the glass wall he was running on, shattering it beneath him. But instead of plummeting down the side of the building, he fell into the floor below, using a barrier talisman to create a sloped surface that guided his descent. Before the other two could react, his figure vanished into the shadows.

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"Ace, you obnoxious little asshole!" Delores yelled as she hovered inside the floor, scanning the area. But he was already gone. He played her.

Man Hunter landed beside her, glancing around with narrowed eyes, she enquired, "Where did he go?"

"I don’t know! He just vanished into that damn shadow," Delores snapped, frustration laced in her voice. But there was no time for pride or pettiness. "Quick, use your abilities to track him!"

Man Hunter grimaced. "I can’t sense his emotional spectrum within my range. The curse suppressors in the walls are interfering with my scan." She exhaled sharply, glancing deep into the floor. "Do you think he’s hiding somewhere here or already heading to the basement?"

Delores didn’t hesitate. "You take the emergency stairs—I’ll cover the building’s exterior." Without waiting for a response, she shot out of the broken glass wall, riding her surfboard like a blur in the night.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Man Hunter cursed under her breath as she sprinted toward the emergency stairs, moving much faster than when she had been scaling the building earlier.

This whole attack on the C.I.B. headquarters was horrific, but there was no denying that it left a lot of high-ranking positions wide open. For someone like Man Hunter, this could be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to catapult herself into supervisory—or even management—ranks in a single move.

But if Ace got himself killed?

She could kiss that promotion goodbye let alone leaping to higher ranks in a single bound.

Just as Man Hunter rushed down the emergency stairs toward the basement, Delores doubled back, cutting through the dimly lit hallways of the floor. Her voice echoed as she called out,

"Ace!"

"Ace!"

"Ace, she’s gone! You can come out now. Let me help you."

"Oh, did I now?"

A grim voice came from behind her.

Delores jumped onto her board in shock, nearly losing her balance. "WTF?! Aren’t you supposed to be covering the emergency stairs?" she asked, masking her embarrassment with irritation.

"I did check," Man Hunter replied coolly, arms crossed. "He didn’t take the stairs, and the elevators are out of order. That leaves two possibilities—he’s either using the vents or has some kind of weird curse ability to move between floors."

Delores clenched her jaw, scanning the hallway. "So, where is he?"

Man Hunter sighed. "No clue. I can’t sense any life on this floor, which means he’s already moved—but up or down? That’s the question." Her brows furrowed. "The kid’s proving to be too damn crafty. Wouldn’t put it past him if jumping down the building was just to throw us off his real plans."