Thump—thump!
The sound of shattering brick and stone echoed continuously across the rooftop.
A cursed spirit with six eyes and eight arms was flailing its eight thick limbs furiously, repeatedly slamming them down toward a pink-haired boy who was dodging and weaving with desperate effort.
Not far away, a black-haired boy forced himself up despite the intense pain racking his body, and roared at the top of his lungs: "Itadori! How can a civilian like you get mixed up in this? Take this chance to find those two and get out of here right now!"
Itadori clenched his teeth, dodging a descending giant fist by a hair's breadth, and shouted back: "No way! I'm not leaving you behind, Fushiguro! If I go, what happens to you?!"
"The upperclassmen were already rescued by someone...?"
Fushiguro Megumi looked stunned, but then he caught Itadori's next words.
He scrambled back to his feet, charging toward the cursed spirit as he yelled: "The cursed object is with you, so stop getting close to that cursed spirit and run! Don't worry about me!"
When all was said and done, exorcising curses and protecting ordinary people was the responsibility of Jujutsu Sorcerers like them.
If he really let Itadori protect him, he might as well hang up his title as a Jujutsu Sorcerer!
Besides, nobody knew what kind of changes might occur once a curse caught the scent of a Special Grade Cursed Object.
Unfortunately, everything seemed a bit too late.
While Itadori was speaking, the cursed spirit suddenly went berserk. Abandoning its relentless pursuit of Fushiguro, it whipped around to deal with Itadori, who had been harassing it from the flank.
Before Itadori could dodge, the cursed spirit's massive hand grabbed him instantly, hoisting him high into the air right up to its face.
He stared down at the gaping maw below him. It didn't even have a tongue; instead, there was a purple, fleshy tumor covered entirely in eyeballs.
A stench of extreme rot and decay washed over him, turning Itadori's stomach and making him want to vomit.
Panicking, Fushiguro formed a hand seal and shouted at the top of his lungs: "Itadori, throw the finger to me! You can't let it eat it, or none of us will survive!"
"Ten Shadows Technique—"
The cursed spirit suddenly seemed to grow clever. Before Fushiguro could channel his technique, its body lunged violently forward, and its free fist smashed with terrifying speed toward Fushiguro.
Clearly not expecting the cursed spirit to be even faster, Fushiguro had no time to react as a fist struck his fragile abdomen. He vomited a mouthful of blood into the air, his body flying backward like a kite with a snapped string.
"Fushiguro!" Itadori stepped on the cursed spirit's head, pitting his strength against the creature while still keeping an eye on Fushiguro's condition.
Seeing his companion beaten down to the ground, unable to rise for a long time, the fury of seeing his friend injured and the sheer terror of death finally overpowered his hesitation.
Without a second thought, he shoved "Sukuna's Finger" straight into his mouth and swallowed it.
Raising his head just in time to witness this, Megumi's pupils contracted, but he was too late to utter a single word of warning.
It's over... He's going to die. He's definitely going to die—
The thought raced endlessly through Megumi's mind.
Time seemed to stand still, and Megumi could hear nothing except the pounding of his own accelerating heartbeat.
Then, the body of the captured pink-haired boy jerked violently. A fierce wave of black Cursed Energy burst from his entire body, instantly blowing the cursed spirit's arms into a pulp of flesh and bone.
Megumi's expression turned to one of shock for a split second, only to plunge immediately into an even deeper despair.
In his field of vision, the pink-haired boy stomped viciously on the cursed spirit's head, leaped dozens of feet into the air, and landed lightly right in front of him.
The distorted cursed spirit crawled toward them, but the moment it drew close, the boy merely raised a hand, unleashing a torrential wave of Cursed Energy that crushed the creature's entire skull into powder.
Shattered teeth and torn flesh, mixed with an unidentifiable purple liquid, sprayed several feet high, showering down across the rooftop.
Ordinarily, successfully exorcising a curse would be cause for celebration, but Megumi had no heart to spare for the headless curse right now. He only stared at Itadori.
Gazing at the two circles of black markings that had suddenly materialized around Itadori's wrists, the worst-case scenario flashed through his mind.
It's over... The Special Grade Cursed Object has acquired a physical body!
That overwhelmingly evil, domineering Cursed Energy brooked no argument, running rampant across the rooftop and pressing down on him so heavily that he was completely paralyzed and unable to move.
Itadori—or rather, Sukuna—suddenly burst into a deep chuckle, burying his face in his hands as he struggled to suppress the excitement and madness bubbling in his voice.
He had slumbered in the darkness for far too long. Waking up abruptly, absorbing Itadori's memories, and learning about this new era had left him thoroughly over-excited.
Unlike Itadori's honest and down-to-earth tone, Sukuna's voice was gorgeous yet bewitching. Its extreme, deep huskiness was laced with a spell-like charm and magnetic pull, the gravelly grit scraping across the eardrums and making one's scalp tingle.
Yet, because it brimmed with unbridled madness, wild abandon, and an all-defying arrogance, it carried an even greater, peerless sense of oppression.
"As expected, moonlight is only truly satisfying when experienced in person!"
Sukuna grabbed at his clothes with both hands, tearing them apart with a casual rip to bare his muscular upper body.
Megumi, who had been holding his breath and observing him the entire time, froze upon seeing "Itadori's" upper body.
The honey-toned muscles were covered in intricate, irregular black markings. They crawled symmetrically across his chest, back, and arms with a chilling sort of beauty.
It was then that Megumi finally saw "Itadori's" face.
The boy's brownish-brown eyes had shifted to a crimson blood-red. His face bore the same delicate yet sinister jet-black curse tattoos, spreading from his jawline down to the outer corners of his eyes.
An additional diagonal slit had split open just beneath each of his two primary eyes, growing a secondary set of matching crimson eyes.
Powerful, terrifying... This was the "King of Curses"—Ryomen Sukuna!
Megumi half-knelt on the ground, his hands trembling uncontrollably as he found himself completely unable to muster any Cursed Energy or release his technique.
Was it out of fear? Or perhaps because he was staring at a face that was neither entirely unfamiliar nor entirely strange—the face belonging to "Itadori Yuji"?
Perhaps... it was a combination of both.
He hesitated, unable to make up his mind.
Sukuna, however, seemed to pay him no attention. Having torn his upper garments into absolute shreds, he suppressed the madness in his heart and let out a raspy laugh: "A curse's flesh is utterly lifeless and boring. Humans—"
A gentle, clear voice suddenly came from behind him, carrying a hint of faint confusion: "You're still eating curses? Do they taste good?"
The excitement and agitation in Sukuna's heart were slightly diluted, and a myriad of thoughts flashed instantly through his mind.
A Jujutsu Sorcerer, huh... To be able to slip up right behind me without me noticing at all—he's got some skill!
Much better than that fellow kneeling on the ground over there...
Ever eager for a fight, Sukuna felt a thrill of discovery and chuckled excitedly.
With a sharp spin, a fist surging with black Cursed Energy and carrying immense, terrifying force lashed out toward the person behind him.
As he spun around, Sukuna caught a clear view of the newcomer's face.
His features were exceptionally handsome under the moonlight, and he smiled softly with mismatched pupils, the corners of his pale, bloodless lips curved upward.
Those half-closed eyes were filled with an overwhelming, tide-like wave of longing and tenderness, beneath which lay a tiny fragment of... heartache.
How familiar... A familiar face, familiar eyes, a familiar smile...
It felt as though he had seen it countless times countless ages ago—so many times that it had accompanied him through endless boring and lonely years.
This subtle sensation suddenly relaxed the full extent of Sukuna's murderous intent, causing his fist, originally aimed straight at the person's heart, to unconsciously drift off target.
Squelch—!
The youth's right shoulder was abruptly pierced straight through by Sukuna's fist.
Blood splattered out like a blooming flower, staining Sukuna's hands and splashing across his body.
All four of Sukuna's blood-red eyes contracted for a split second. In that fleeting moment, he couldn't comprehend the complex emotions surging up from the depths of his heart.
What... was this feeling?
Shouldn't he be reveling in the ultimate thrill of battle, the ecstasy of bathing his body in the blood of his enemies...?
Then why, upon being stained with this person's blood, did he feel not a shred of bloodlust or excitement, but instead felt as though his entire body was... aching?
He couldn't pinpoint where the pain was coming from, yet he could clearly feel that the blood belonging to that person felt like boiling, scorching magma, burning him with astonishing intensity.
Was it a curse...? Modern Jujutsu Sorcerers really could conjure up the most base and vulgar techniques imaginable...
Sukuna desperately tried to deny the strange sensations spreading all over his body, yet his brain conveyed one crystal-clear realization: this was his own true feeling, originating from the deepest depths of his own soul.
He actually didn't want to hurt this person from the bottom of his heart...?
How could that be—he was the very embodiment of curses, doing as he pleased, beholden to no one...
So... just who on earth was this person?!
Despite suffering such a severe injury, the young man's expression hadn't changed in the slightest. He simply continued to look at him with gentleness.
As his lips parted, the words he spoke carried a helpless and intimately familiar tone: "Your way of greeting people is still the same as ever..."
"Welcome back—Lord Sukuna."
Gazing at the young man's faint smile, Sukuna took an involuntary step back.
That sense of familiarity grew increasingly intense and vivid.
Deep within his memories, a long expanse of blankness suddenly peeled away like a blank scroll, and someone seemed to be splashing ink and wielding a brush across it.
A memory he had forgotten clamored to break through the fog of confinement, but it remained out of reach, instead causing a stabbing pain in his brain.
His chaotic thoughts were pierced by the pain, and the memory that had just begun to surface slipped back into the depths of the fog.
Sukuna's fingertips trembled, and he scarcely dared to face the desolate sense of loss within his own heart.
He could only forcefully reignite the bloodthirsty, tyrannical instincts in his blood, grabbing the young man's shoulders with both hands and suddenly pulling the distance between them to zero.
Sukuna's expression was fiercely menacing, his eyes blazing with crimson murderous intent.
That was, if one ignored his slightly trembling palms, and the positive energy gradually gathering from his hands into the young man's wound.
Sensing this, the young man let out a soft chuckle. A trace of blood spilled from the corner of his lips, which he brushed away with total indifference: "It's fine, I can use Reverse Cursed Technique too."
Sukuna didn't let go. He stared deeply into his eyes, his voice raspy and low: "Just who... are you—"
Sukuna's words cut off abruptly. His eyes widened with a hint of shock and incomprehension.
How could this be... Why was the master of this body still able to move...?
His soul was being squeezed downward, sinking into the depths. The moment before he lost control of the body, what Sukuna saw was the young man's rather unsightly expression.
The young man—who was none other than Kamiyado, having rushed over the instant he sensed Sukuna's awakening—extended a hand to support the briefly fainting Itadori Yuji, his brow furrowed deeply.
How could this be... As an immensely powerful spiritual entity, even if it were merely a one-twentieth fragment, Sukuna shouldn't be something an ordinary human could suppress.
Yet right now, he was actually being forced back down...
Had he failed to seize control of the main body?
Kamiyado sighed inwardly.
He had simply been too hasty, and his good intentions had likely backfired.
This plan had gloriously gone down the drain. He would just have to stick to his original idea: slowly construct a suitable physical body for Sukuna and then liberate him from Itadori's body properly...
As he thought this, the unconscious Itadori suddenly woke up, looking at him with a worried expression.
"Mister, are you alright? I... I... I'm so, so sorry!"
While Sukuna was in control of the body, Itadori had been able to see what was happening outside. Naturally, he knew he was the one who had injured someone, and self-reproach practically overwhelmed him.
Watching the curse tattoos gradually fade from the boy's face, Kamiyado stepped back slightly and said calmly: "I'm fine."
Itadori waved a hand, saying anxiously: "How could you be fine! I felt it—my punch went right... through your shoulder?!"
His gaze swept over the torn hole in the black kimono, only to find that instead of the bloody, mangled mess he had imagined, there was only a patch of porcelain-like whiteness.
Itadori froze, his voice trailing off. As he stared blankly at that patch of white, a fierce, angry voice suddenly rang out in his mind: "Stinking brat! What are you staring at?"
He slapped his forehead and muttered: "I wasn't even looking at you, why are you yelling so loud..."
Ultimately, he dragged his gaze away and looked toward Fushiguro Megumi, who was lying flat on the ground playing dead.
Itadori's tactfulness earned a satisfied cold snort from the entity sitting on his mountain of bones.
"Fushiguro! Are you alright?"
A few veins suddenly bulged on Megumi's hands, which were limply resting against the ground.
Bastard... Could you not cue me at a time like this?!
I can't even tell if you're a cursed object or Itadori himself right now!
And besides—who on earth is this person who suddenly popped up?!
His Cursed Energy is terrifyingly powerful, he seems to know Reverse Cursed Technique, and he's even an old acquaintance of the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, from a thousand years ago?!?
My CPU is completely fried, thank you very much!
What am I supposed to do here...
Who even remembers that I was just on a routine mission to find a Special Grade Cursed Object and reinforce its seal?!
Megumi now felt that his luck was truly exceptional—every possible piece of bad luck and trouble had landed right in his lap.
Since he had been called out by name, he couldn't just stay lying down anymore. He rolled over, crouched into a low stance, clenched both hands into fists, pressed his palms together, and formed a unique hand seal.
A peculiar wave of Cursed Energy erupted from his body, finally causing Kamiyado—whose eyes had been fixed entirely on Itadori—to spare him a glance.
Kamiyado instantly identified what that aura belonged to.
Mahoraga, the strongest shikigami of the Ten Shadows Technique, huh?
A descendant of the Zen'in clan...
Of course, Kamiyado only spared him a momentary glance before immediately looking away.
Megumi let out a quiet scoff, well aware that this desperate trump card of his likely posed no threat to this mysterious man whatsoever.
That meant he only had one choice left...
"Now, in accordance with jujutsu regulations, 'Itadori Yuji' will be treated as a curse and exorcised on the spot!"
"Burubu, yura yura..."
The boy's voice was heavy and hoarse, his hands trembling violently. Forget forming hand seals; even channeling the most basic Cursed Energy was beyond him.
No... No, he couldn't do it!
He couldn't bring himself to kill someone who had just saved his life.
Moreover, this person had ended up like this precisely because of him!
Megumi clenched his teeth in agony, constantly repeating in his mind the doctrine instilled in him when he first entered Jujutsu society.
"Jujutsu is not used to protect sorcerers, but to protect non-sorcerers."
"A Jujutsu Sorcerer's responsibility is to exorcise any curse that poses a threat to human society!"
...
What should he do... Make a choice already, hurry up! Fushiguro Megumi!
Amidst his internal struggles and hesitation, a frivolous voice suddenly rang out from beside him.
"Yo, how's the situation? Is everything resolved?"
That familiar voice...
Megumi snapped his head up, pleasantly surprised: "Teacher Gojo! Why are you here?!"
A tall, blindfolded white-haired young man came into view, holding a bag printed with "Kikusuian" in one hand while waving with the other to greet him.
"Yes, yes, I'm here... Well, losing a Special Grade Cursed Object is actually quite a big deal, and the higher-ups were nagging me so persistently that I just dropped by to check it out while taking a little trip."
As the white-haired young man spoke, he pulled out his phone, seemingly flipping through those nagging chat logs, and then asked Megumi with an expression full of eager anticipation: "So, did you find it?"
Immediately afterward, as if only just noticing Megumi's dirt-and-blood-stained appearance, he let out an exaggerated gasp of surprise: "Wow, you're hurt pretty badly! I should take some pictures to show the second-year students!"
True to his word, the white-haired young man really did start snapping photos of him with his phone, muttering: "Look over here, look over here."
Blinded by the camera flash, Megumi raised a hand to shield his eyes and secretly cursed him in his mind.
Seriously! Does he have any idea what kind of situation this is?!
When the white-haired young man finally finished taking pictures to his heart's content and stopped admiring his photogenic little Megumi-chan, Itadori—who had been standing off to the side for ages—finally found an opportunity to edge forward. Raising a trembling little hand, he answered with a pure and innocent expression: "Um... I ate that finger."
Immediately following that, Itadori watched as this weird, blindfolded young man turned his face toward him.
He couldn't help muttering inwardly: Can this guy even see me looking like that? Jujutsu Sorcerers really have a lot of weirdos...
"Really?"
Megumi and Itadori spoke in unison: "Really."
The smile on the white-haired young man's lips slowly straightened, and the aura surrounding him suddenly turned sharp, causing Itadori—who was still muttering to himself—to instantly snap to attention.
Oh crap! Just a second ago he looked all playful and frivolous, but now that he's serious... his sense of oppression is hundreds of times stronger than Fushiguro's verbal warnings!
So strong that Yuji felt like he was going to be exorcised on the spot.
Itadori's entire body tensed up as he watched the blindfolded young man, who was a head taller than him, slowly walk over.
Megumi assumed his teacher intended to execute Itadori on the spot, since jujutsu regulations indeed dictated such a procedure.
He hesitated and called out: "Teacher Gojo..."
While the two of them had their nerves strung tight, Kamiyado—who had been standing not far away minding his own business—finally shifted his gaze away from Itadori and onto the young man who had been addressed as "Teacher Gojo."
This peculiar Cursed Energy... Is it the Limitless cursed technique? Then this guy must be a member of the Gojo family who possesses the "Six Eyes," just like him.
Even though his own "Six Eyes" were a "battle-damaged version," and he himself had long since been expelled from the Gojo family...
Kamiyado quietly watched as the white-haired young man strode past the two tense figures and came to a halt five meters away from him.
Then, the white-haired young man raised a hand and pulled off the black blindfold covering his eyes.
His spiky hair, which had been forced upright by the blindfold, relaxed. At the same time, it revealed a pair of extraordinarily gorgeous, azure blue pupils, along with a face that was handsome enough to look ethereal.
Right now, his expression was serene, his "Six Eyes" resembling the sudden dawning of light over a frozen sea, seeming to trail faint blue afterimages.
An invisible yet suffocating pressure radiated outward. Itadori, standing behind him, had already shuffled inch by inch toward Fushiguro Megumi to seek refuge.
Fushiguro Megumi was slightly terrified that this current Itadori might suddenly be taken over by the Special Grade Cursed Object again, but he still held his ground, waiting as Itadori pressed close against his side.
Neither of the two men paid any attention to the little side-show playing out over there; they simply gazed quietly at one another.
The white-haired young man spoke first to break the silence. His tone lacked the frivolity he had used with Megumi earlier, nor was it particularly heavy, but it was conspicuously much more serious.
"Nice to meet you. Care for a friendly self-introduction? I'm Gojo Satoru. And you... are?"
Kamiyado's fingertips brushed the missing patch of fabric on his shoulder before dropping his hand to rest loosely against the hilt of his sword.
He replied with calm indifference: "I am a friend of Sukuna's."
"The head of the Gojo family from a thousand years ago—Gojo Kamiyado."
"You may just call me Kamiyado."