"I know that. What I'm asking is, since you know how dangerous they are, why did you bring them out of the vault?!"
Masamichi rubbed his head helplessly. His temples throbbed.
For special grade cursed objects like these, they usually protect themselves by making a binding vow not to harm people. In exchange, they become nearly impossible to destroy.
But once a human swallows one, the cursed womb gains a body to incarnate into.
When that happens, the binding vow they made as a cursed object no longer applies. They would turn into disaster-level threats, easily reaching special grade danger.
"Dangerous? Not necessarily."
Mukuro lightly tapped the glass wall of one of the transparent jars. The crisp sound felt strangely sharp in the silence.
Not everyone knew the full story behind the Cursed Womb: Death Paintings, but anyone who graduated from Jujutsu High had at least heard of them.
A hundred and fifty years ago, there was a woman who could become pregnant with a cursed spirit's child. She was cast out of her home because of it.
And then things only got worse.
While she was desperately trying to find somewhere to stay, she was targeted by Noritoshi Kamo, the one possessed by Kenjaku, and her body was used for inhuman experiments.
(Of course, most people never knew it was Kenjaku.)
In the end, nine half-human, half-cursed spirit fetuses were created. Noritoshi Kamo even mixed his own bloodline into them, then turned them into cursed objects.
That was how he became infamous and branded as the Kamo clan's greatest disgrace.
Those nine dead fetuses were said to match the nine stages after death, which was why they were called the "Cursed Womb: Death Paintings."
At their core, they were just babies who died before they were ever born.
"So what makes them worth doing this for?"
Masamichi let out a breath, his tone already softening. He knew the former student standing in front of him would give him respect. But he also knew he would never change his mind over a few words.
That had always been the case.
Right now, Masamichi only wanted one thing.
An answer.
"A reason… I just felt like doing it, so I did it. Even if the higher-ups have complaints, it's fine. I don't care. And actually, if they do complain, even better."
Mukuro packed the three jars away again. That also meant the conversation was over.
"Do whatever you want. I'll talk to the higher-ups with Gakuganji. I'll just say this is one of your experiments. Anyway, you and Saroru have caused trouble plenty of times these past few years…"
The things Mukuro took were special grade cursed objects, but there was no way their strength could reach special grade sorcerer level. So Masamichi was not too worried.
On top of that, the higher-ups had a lot of Kamo clan members. If anyone could erase or rewrite this humiliation, they would probably be happy to do it.
Masamichi adjusted his sunglasses, already thinking about how to sweet-talk that old man into helping.
These past years, he had been cleaning up after those two brats nonstop. It was about time Gakuganji suffered a little too.
After all, Mukuro was now an honorary teacher at Kyoto Jujutsu High.
"Yaga-sensei, you don't need to take them so seriously. I'll say it again. If you want, I can push you into the top position."
Mukuro slung the backpack over his shoulder and turned to leave.
"Watch them. If you can, try not to let them become your enemies."
Masamichi did not respond to the arrogant comment. He only left that final warning behind.
Even if they were still only cursed objects right now, he still pitied what the Death Paintings had gone through. After all, he was the "father" of numerous cursed corpses.
He did not want those cursed wombs, already born from misery, to face death again the moment they gained life.
If they died after incarnating, there would be no next time.
Not as humans, and not as curses.
"Got it."
Mukuro waved without looking back, leaving Masamichi with nothing but his casual silhouette.
* * *
A few minutes later.
Mukuro stood at the entrance of Jujutsu High, frowning as he thought about what to do next.
"Where am I supposed to find vessels for them…?"
The Death Paintings were different from Sukuna's fingers. Even ordinary people could serve as vessels. But once the incarnation succeeded, the host would die.
He could not just grab random innocent people.
Buzz…
Mukuro's phone vibrated again in his pocket.
"I'll explain things to the higher-ups later, and I'll have them contact a nearby prison. Don't go grabbing people yourself to use as vessels."
It was Masamichi.
They had only said goodbye minutes ago, yet he had already planned the next step and called right away.
Masamichi knew Mukuro too well. If there was no ready vessel, he would definitely pick some "monkeys" he thought deserved it.
"That's my teacher. You really get me."
The call ended once more.
* * *
An hour later, inside a Tokyo prison.
"Mr. Fushiguro, right? We've already received orders from above. You can choose three death row inmates with no living relatives. Would you like me to introduce them?"
The warden greeted Mukuro the moment he walked in, speaking as if the prisoners were merchandise.
"Sure."
With Mukuro's approval, the man gave a quick and clear rundown of three of the most hated inmates in the entire prison.
Two serial killers, and one young pervert guilty of multiple rape-and-murder cases.
"Are you here to execute me? Or transfer me? Better put more cuffs on me, or I'll kill you all!"
In one of the cells, a murderer sat against the wall. After hearing their conversation, he shouted arrogantly.
"These three will do. Not bad. Full of energy."
Mukuro nearly laughed when he saw the man's provocative stare, along with the cold killing intent hidden in the other two inmates' eyes.
"Understood. I'll go ahead and—"
"Open the cell doors."
The warden was about to order extra cuffs and shackles, but Mukuro cut him off.
"Mr. Fushiguro, I have to warn you. They're all infamous killers…"
Even after multiple warnings, Mukuro did not change his mind.
The warden had no choice but to call more guards over and surround the area. Then he opened the door for the loudest one first.
"Don't regret it—"
The prisoner sneered at the guards packing the hallway. He stood up and prepared to spit out another threat.
But before he could finish, Mukuro stepped into the cell and interrupted him.
"Your head's held too high."
The next second, everything blurred.
The prisoner's head was already crushed and twisted out of shape. His entire body was smashed into the wall, blood pouring down.
"I got a little carried away. Warden, you'll have to prepare one more for me."
Mukuro turned back with an innocent smile.
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