To restore the prestige of the jujutsu world and stabilize the restless hearts of the people.
The newly appointed jujutsu higher-ups decided to make the upcoming Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event grander than ever before.
Beneath this brief tranquility before the storm.
Tokyo Jujutsu High.
The three second-year seniors—Maki Zen'in, Toge Inumaki, and Panda—officially sought out Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki.
"Hey, you two. It's time to start preparing for the Goodwill Event," Maki Zen'in said concisely, resting her cursed tool on her shoulder.
"Salmon," Toge Inumaki said, pulling down his collar.
Meanwhile, in a hidden basement at Jujutsu High.
Satoru Gojo, wearing his blindfold, was casually instructing someone who was supposed to be dead in secret training.
"Yuji, cursed energy control is just like this. You have to maintain a steady output of cursed energy even while watching a movie."
Yuji Itadori was hugging an incredibly ugly Cursed Corpse doll, staring intently at the TV screen.
On the surface, the entire jujutsu world seemed to have entered a period of stability.
However, peace was always fleeting.
The hiding Mahito ultimately couldn't suppress his desire to toy with human hearts and trample on souls.
He was tired of waiting.
He quietly slipped out of his hiding place, wandering through the bustling city like a hunter looking for new amusement.
Soon, his gaze locked onto a boy huddled alone in a corner of the school, radiating a gloomy aura.
That boy's name was Junpei Yoshino.
Mahito looked at him, a twisted and expectant smile appearing on his stitched face.
Mahito felt he had found the perfect "toy"—Junpei Yoshino.
A boy agitated by school bullying, whose soul was twisted and fragile, and who also had a gentle and virtuous mother.
It was simply wonderful.
With just a little guidance and a tiny bit of "help," he could easily gain the boy's complete trust.
He had already put on a friendly mask, disguising himself as Junpei's sole confidant, and even "conveniently" helped him deal with the bullies who always tormented him.
Of course, his method of dealing with them was turning them into hideous cursed spirits.
Junpei's tearful gratitude was truly a delight to behold.
But all of this was merely an appetizer.
It was a meticulous setup to create an even more interesting "toy."
Mahito's plan was simple, yet filled with what he considered to be an artistic, twisted aesthetic.
Tonight, he was going to secretly place one of Ryomen Sukuna's Fingers inside Junpei Yoshino's home.
That ominous aura would attract nearby low-grade cursed spirits.
The cursed spirits would kill Junpei's only family member, his mother.
Then, he would appear once more, framing the investigating jujutsu sorcerers for the tragedy.
In that exact moment when the boy lost everything and plunged into the deepest depths of despair and hatred.
He would descend and use [Idle Transfiguration] to completely mold that fascinating soul into his greatest masterpiece.
What a beautiful script.
Humming an off-key tune, Mahito's body phased through the locked doors and windows of the Yoshino residence as easily as a wisp of intangible smoke.
The house was pitch black.
The air was filled with the faint, musty scent typical of old houses, mixed with the lingering aroma of a recently finished meal.
Following the scent, he arrived at the second floor, right outside the bedroom of Junpei's mother.
He gently pushed the door open just a crack.
On the bed, the middle-aged woman was fast asleep, letting out soft snores, completely oblivious to the impending death about to descend upon her.
From his clothes, Mahito retrieved a withered, pitch-black finger radiating an aura of misfortune and disaster.
A Special Grade Cursed Object, Ryomen Sukuna's Finger.
As long as he placed it on the bedside table.
In ten minutes at most, attracted cursed spirits would arrive to complete this bloody first act.
The corners of his mouth curled into a delighted grin.
He reached out, just about to gently set down this seed of death.
Suddenly.
A hand appeared out of thin air.
The hand was pale, slender, with distinct knuckles, looking almost elegant.
Yet it firmly and steadily gripped Mahito's wrist.
An irresistible, immense force transmitted from that hand.
Crack.
The crisp sound of bone fracturing was exceptionally jarring in the silent bedroom.
The smile on Mahito's face instantly froze.
Because he realized he couldn't break free at all.
Let alone breaking free, he couldn't even twitch a finger. His entire body felt as if it had been pinned in place.
Sukuna's Finger was casually plucked from his grasp by two fingers.
'How is this possible?'
'How could someone be here?'
'At this time, the jujutsu sorcerers should still be overwhelmed with other matters.'
As the hand let go, the shock in Mahito's heart was instantly replaced by anger and humiliation.
He whipped his head around, his cursed energy erupting as he prepared to get a good look at the bastard who dared ruin his "artistic creation" before turning their soul into a new toy.
However, he didn't get to see anything clearly.
What greeted him was an extremely resounding slap.
"Slap!"
The sound was crisp and sharp.
Mahito was completely stunned by the slap.
His mind went blank. He only felt an incomprehensible, massive force strike his cheek, sending his entire body spinning uncontrollably as he flew sideways through the air.
Boom!
He crashed through the wall of the Yoshino residence, flying out like a cannonball and slamming heavily into the neighbor's courtyard.
Severe pain radiated from both his physical body and his soul.
"Bastard!"
Mahito struggled to his feet, immediately activating [Idle Transfiguration] to repair his damaged soul and flesh.
But to his horror, he discovered something.
The damage caused by that seemingly ordinary slap was continuously interfering with his control over his soul's shape.
The healing process became incredibly difficult.
It was as if the opponent had imbued that slap with a higher-level "rule," a power he couldn't comprehend at all.
Looking up in a wretched state, he finally got a clear view of the person standing at the hole in the wall.
It was a young man.
An absurdly handsome young man.
He wore an indifferent expression, casually tossing Sukuna's Finger in the air as if it weren't a Special Grade Cursed Object, but merely a boring little toy.
The newcomer was none other than Ian.
Ian didn't intentionally emit any cursed energy, yet he gave Mahito a terrifying sense of oppression, as if he were facing an abyssal chasm or a vast sea of stars.
An intense, fatal sense of crisis made Mahito instantly abandon any thoughts of testing the waters.
"I don't care who you are..."
Mahito let out an inhuman roar.
He pushed his [Idle Transfiguration] ability to its absolute limit.
His body blurred into a twisted afterimage as he charged forward.
This was his strongest move.
As long as he touched him.
In an instant.
Just a single instant.
He could alter the opponent's soul shape, turning him into a puddle of mindless, rotting flesh.
He was going to make this guy pay the most agonizing price for that slap just now.
However, what greeted him was another, even more unreasonable slap.
"Slap!"
The sound was even louder than the last time.
Mahito's attack, pushed to its absolute limit and capable of twisting souls, appeared so laughable and powerless before his opponent.
He didn't even manage to touch the hem of the other's clothes before his entire body was sent flying backward once again.