Forest

Shiro glared at the monstrosity before him, arms crossed like a disappointed teacher about to scold an unruly student. "Alright, I'm done running. Let's get one thing straight, you ugly reject from a haunted art museum," he started, jabbing a finger at the Curse Spirit. "I was just trying to have a nice day. But noooo, you had to ruin it by being all creepy and gross. You even killed my about to be friend. So now, I'm giving you a piece of my mind—personally!"

The Curse Spirit hissed, its jagged teeth gnashing as it swayed unnaturally. Its glowing eyes locked onto Shiro, and the mist around it thickened, bubbling ominously. A stream of inky liquid shot out from its body, splashing onto the ground where it sizzled, hissing loudly as it melted through rock and dirt.

Shiro raised an eyebrow. "Oh, cool, corrosive acid. Great. That's exactly what I needed today. What's next? You gonna shoot lasers from your eyeballs?"

The spirit didn't reply—naturally—and instead lunged, claws slashing downward. Shiro sidestepped casually, wagging a finger at it. "I'm talking here, you glorified Halloween decoration! Learn some manners!"

He cocked back a fist and swung with enough force to make the ground beneath him tremble. The punch slammed into the Curse Spirit's chest, sending it flying through the air like a ragdoll. It crashed into a tree with an explosive thud, the trunk snapping in two.

Shiro dusted off his hands and smirked. "Ha! That's what you get for interrupting me. Consider yourself schooled."

But his smugness was short-lived. The Curse Spirit reassembled itself almost instantly, its twisted body bubbling with acidic liquid that dripped to the ground, sizzling as it went.

"What, you're back already?" Shiro groaned, putting his hands on his hips. "I hit you with enough force to make a mountain cry, and you're still standing? What are you made of, a minion?"

The Curse Spirit hissed again, this time spraying another stream of acidic liquid toward him. Shiro dodged with ease, the liquid narrowly missing his foot and dissolving the ground where he had just stood.

"Whoa! Okay, that's definitely cheating!" Shiro shouted, flipping backward to avoid another acidic spray. "You think this is fair? I don't even have fancy Curse Energy! All I've got is my good looks and raw strength."

The spirit lunged again, its claws swiping wildly. Shiro ducked, dodged, and weaved like a boxer in the ring, occasionally throwing punches and kicks that sent the spirit flying into trees, boulders, and anything unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity. Each time, the Curse Spirit reassembled itself, more acidic mist pouring from its body.

"Seriously, are you a Curse Spirit or a walking science experiment?" Shiro muttered, leaping over a particularly large puddle of acid. He retaliated with a roundhouse kick, sending the spirit spiraling into another tree.

But just as Shiro landed, his foot slipped. His eyes widen. He stepped onto a shit. The Curse Spirit immediately seized the opportunity, lunging at him with claws poised for a fatal strike.

Time seemed to slow as Shiro's eyes widened. "Oh crap, this is it," he muttered, his thoughts racing. Dying twice… still a virgin. Unbelievable.

Just as the claws were about to pierce him, something deep inside snapped. A surge of power exploded through his body, raw and untamed. His Six Eyes activated instinctively, glowing with a vibrant, otherworldly light. Curse Energy coursed through his body, harmonizing perfectly with his movements.

"Oh-ho, what's this?" Shiro muttered, flexing his fingers as he sidestepped the spirit's claws effortlessly. "Did I just unlock my protagonist moment? Power-up achieved, baby!"

The Curse Spirit roared and lunged again, but Shiro was faster. He darted forward, his body moving like a blur. His fist glowed with a brilliant blue light as he muttered to himself, "Alright, now's the part where I hit it so hard, it forgets its own name. Let's make it flashy!"

With a loud cry, he unleashed a devastating punch straight into the Curse Spirit's grotesque face. The impact was catastrophic. The spirit exploded into a cloud of mist and energy, its acidic body vaporized by the sheer force of Shiro's strike.

The shockwave leveled the surrounding area, uprooting trees and sending debris flying. A Black Flash crackled through the air, amplifying the destruction even further.

When the dust settled, Shiro stood at the center of the carnage, his fist still smoking slightly. He glanced around, surveying the destruction with a triumphant grin. "And that's how you take out the trash," he said, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder.

DING!

The [Crossover System] materialized above him, its text glowing brightly.

> Congratulations! You've acquired:

[Grade 1: Curse Energy Quantity]

[Curse Energy Reinforcement]

[Black Flash]

Shiro tilted his head at the notification. "Yeah, you're welcome. Glad someone's keeping track of my awesomeness."

Another message popped up.

> Quest Reward:

Additional [Grade 1: Curse Energy Quantity] acquired. Your Curse Energy reserves have doubled!

Shiro let out a whistle. "Nice."

A third screen appeared.

> Daily Quest Completed:

[10 Kilometer Run]

Reward: 100 Points.

He squinted at the message. "Wait, you're counting running for my life as exercise? What kind of gym system is this?" He shook his head but couldn't help smirking. "Whatever, I'll take it. Points are points."

As the new options [Shop] appeared, Shiro rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Alright, let's see what kind of goodies I can get. Hopefully snacks. All this hero stuff has me starving."

With that, he turned and strolled away, casually stepping over the remnants of the Curse Spirit, already planning his next move.

…

Shiro stood beneath the towering tree, hands on his hips, gazing up at its dizzying height. His hair caught the sunlight, giving him a celestial glow—at least, that's how he imagined it.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Of course, of I'm not careful climbing this thing might scuff my clothes, but sacrifices must be made. Besides, my heroic aura will shine through no matter what."

And with that, he began his ascent, scaling the tree like an agile monkey.

About halfway up, Shiro paused to catch his breath. He leaned against the trunk, peering out over the forest, when a faint hiss caught his attention.

He turned his head slowly, and there it was—a snake, coiled around a branch just inches from his face. Its beady eyes glinted, and its tongue flicked menacingly.

"Orochimaru! Didn't think I'd meet you here. But alas, you face the wrong opponent today."

The snake reared back, ready to strike, but Shiro was faster. He snatched it mid-lunge and held it aloft, spinning it like a lasso.

"Nice try, but I've seen all your jutsu," Shiro said, his voice mockingly serious. "What's next? Gonna summon a giant snake? Too bad—you're grounded!"

The snake flailed helplessly as Shiro wrapped it around his neck like a scarf. He posed dramatically, one hand on his hip, the other pointing into the distance.

"Behold! Shiro, the Serpent Slayer! Tales of my bravery shall echo through the ages!" He looked down at the snake, which now hung limply, clearly giving up. "Relax, Orochimaru. You're not even worth the effort. Consider this a mercy."

With a flourish, Shiro untangled the snake and draped it gently over a branch. "There you go, pal. Take a rest. You've earned it."

He continued his climb, finally reaching the top of the tree. His eyes scanned the horizon, but all he saw was an endless sea of green.

"Of course," he muttered, slumping against the trunk. "Well played, forest. Well played."

After a moment, he sighed and started climbing back down. "Guess we're going back to the river. Maybe the fish will appreciate me."

Back at the river, Shiro crouched by the water's edge, gazing at his reflection. His expression brightened instantly.

"There he is," he said, gesturing to his reflection. "The man, the myth, the legend. Surviving in the wild with nothing but his wits and unparalleled charm. And look at those cheekbones—practically a national treasure."

He struck a few poses, flexing his arms and tilting his head for maximum effect. "If civilization can't find me, it's their loss, really."

His stomach growled loudly, interrupting his self-admiration. "Alright, fine. Food first, admiring myself can continue later."

Grabbing a sturdy branch, he sharpened it with a rock and waded into the river. The cold water rippled around his legs as he crouched low, eyes scanning for movement.

"Fish!" he bellowed.

The first fish darted past, and Shiro lunged with the enthusiasm of a man auditioning for a dramatic play. He missed entirely, nearly toppling into the water.

"Ah, a worthy adversary!" he exclaimed, shaking his fist at the water. "But you cannot escape forever!"

The next fish wasn't so lucky. Shiro speared it with pinpoint accuracy, holding it aloft like a trophy. "Victory!" he shouted. "Let the record show that Shiro always gets his prey!"

He caught a few more fish, each time announcing his triumph to the empty forest as if expecting applause. Once satisfied, he returned to the shore and set to work building a fire.

The fire crackled as Shiro roasted his catch. He leaned back, arms behind his head, gazing up at the canopy above.

"Here I am," he said, biting into a perfectly cooked fish. "Lost in the woods, no map, no guide, and yet thriving. Truly, I'm wasted on the mortal plane."

A sudden rustling In the bushes nearby made him pause. He narrowed his eyes, gripping his skewer defensively. "Orochimaru, if that's you, I told you—no rematches!"

When nothing emerged, he relaxed and took another bite. "That's what I thought. Even the wildlife knows who's boss."

He chewed thoughtfully, then grinned. "Man, I'm good. If this were a movie, I'd already have my own theme song."