"Scores of Grade 3 cursed spirits have been released into the combat zone, along with a single, terrifying Grade 2!"
"The first team to exorcise the Grade 2 wins. If the sun sets before then, victory goes to the team with the highest Grade 3 tally!"
"Interference and sabotage are permitted, but remember: lethal force is strictly forbidden!"
The whistle shrieked, and the students of both colleges surged into the forest. As usual, the group of problem children ignored the low-level curses entirely, turning their sights instead on their rivals.
Old grudges were dusted off; debts were called in.
Maki Zenin made short work of Miwa Kasumi before clashing with her sister, Mai, for a "friendly" family chat involving steel and lead. Nobara Kugisaki and the pint-sized Westcott Momo traded barbs and blows in equal measure. Mechamaru, enraged by Panda's suggestion that they were "both cursed corpses," unleashed a metallic fury that shook the canopy.
Noritoshi Kamo, burdened by the legacy of the Big Three, sought to test Megumi Fushiguro's pedigree. But Megumi had zero interest in the Zenin lineage, leading to a high-stakes duel between Ten Shadows and Blood Manipulation.
Of course, it wasn't all hostility. In a clearing elsewhere, Todo and Yuji were engaged in a bout of passionate, visceral grappling. Their physical prowess and mirrored fighting styles sparked a rhythmic, bone-crunching synergy.
Amidst the chaos, only the diligent Toge Inumaki was actually doing his job, quietly systematically thinning the cursed population.
Jujutsu High Storage Vault
Souma Gojo tucked the Cursed Womb: Death Paintings away into his belongings.
Satoru Gojo tilted his head. "Brother, what do you want with those pickled relics?"
Souma held up a finger. "Itadori is the tenth painting in all but name. Whether we use them for research or turn them into allies, it's a high-yield investment."
Even with five Special Grades and a monster like Toji on their side, Souma knew they could never have enough hands. More importantly, he had a certain fondness for Choso, the eldest of the paintings. The man was a brother who truly showed up when it mattered.
"Besides," Souma continued, "I don't believe Kenjaku created these as a mere whim. Even if they're considered failures, they might hold the key to his ultimate goal."
Souma had once theorized Kenjaku wanted world domination, but that felt too small, too pedestrian for a man of his intellect. Nor did he think Kenjaku wanted to turn everyone into curses, given the ancient sorcerer's thinly veiled contempt for them. Perhaps Kenjaku wanted to create something he himself couldn't predict—a wild variable in the evolution of humanity.
Suddenly, both brothers snapped their heads upward.
"That's a massive amount of cursed energy."
"That familiar pulse... it's Hanami, isn't it?"
Satoru blinked. "Brother, you don't seem surprised at all."
Souma let out a low chuckle. "Why would I be? I've been waiting for them to crawl out of the woodwork. It saves me the trouble of hunting them down."
The two shared a glance and vanished.
In the heart of the combat zone, Toge Inumaki froze, his body tensing as a shadow fell over the clearing.
Hanami stepped forward, a crushing aura of natural malice radiating from her form. In her hand, she gripped a severed head—the Grade 1 spirit Gakuganji had specifically planted to assassinate Yuji.
"Special Grade!"
Toge recoiled, instantly reaching for his collar. "Don't move!"
BOOM—!
The forest erupted. Massive, hundred-meter vines tore through the earth like prehistoric serpents, flattening everything in their path. Todo and Yuji stopped their brawl as the landscape warped around them.
Suddenly, a massive black "Veil" dropped from the sky, sealing the perimeter.
"What's going on?"
Gakuganji and Utahime Iori met Souma and Satoru as they emerged from the vault.
"Isn't it obvious? We have guests," Souma said coolly.
Utahime was stunned. "An invasion? Why didn't Lord Tengen's barrier react at all?"
Souma rolled his eyes. While Kenjaku deserved some credit, Hanami's nature as a spirit of the forest allowed her to blend into the environment perfectly. Still, he couldn't help but think: Tengen, you old fraud.
"Let's get the students out."
The group rushed toward the Veil. As Satoru reached out to touch the shimmering black curtain, he was violently repelled.
"This is..."
Satoru tried again, only to be bounced back. "It's a barrier specifically tuned to 'Reject Satoru Gojo.'"
He shrugged, looking at the pitch-black wall. "By making a Binding Vow that targets only me, they've cranked the durability to absurd levels. This is Master-tier barrier work."
"Well, Brother... I guess it's up to you!"
Souma sighed. "Fine. Let's move."
They entered the arena, where Hanami's technique had already transformed the terrain into a nightmare of aggressive flora.
"My technique is faster. I'll split off," Souma said, vanishing instantly.
Gakuganji and Utahime exchanged a look and chose their own paths. Moments later, Gakuganji found his way blocked by a masked man wearing a butcher's apron.
"Where's Souma? Where's Satoru? All I get is an old man? Those brittle bones wouldn't even make a decent coat rack!"
Gakuganji didn't waste breath on words. He pulled an electric guitar from his case, shifting into his rock-and-roll battle stance.
On another front, Utahime felt a spike of danger at the base of her skull. She ducked and spun, narrowly avoiding a lethal strike from behind. Standing there was a blond youth with purple markings on his face, wielding a bizarre sword with a hand for a hilt.
Haruta Shigemo gave a sickly-sweet smile. "Ah~ a cute lady! How delightful..."
CRASH!!!
Utahime stared in shock as the scene shifted in a heartbeat. "Sou... Souma?!"
Souma Gojo had Haruta by the throat, hoisting the boy into the air with a single hand.
The hand-hilted sword clattered to the ground. Haruta's face turned a bruised purple as he clawed at Souma's iron grip, his legs kicking uselessly.
Souma looked at him with eyes as cold as a mountain peak. "I heard your technique is called 'Miracles.' A little passive ability that lets you cheat death, right?"
"Go on. Use it. Let's see if it can pull a miracle out for you today."
"Ugh... ah... kgh..."
Terror flooded Haruta's eyes. Tears and snot ran down his face as he tried to beg, but his throat was crushed shut.
"Trash."
Souma spoke the word like a final judgment. He applied pressure. The sheer force pulverized Haruta's windpipe, then his cervical vertebrae, and finally the delicate vessels of his neck.
CRACK.
Haruta's head lolled at an unnatural angle, his bulging eyes staring at nothing as his body went limp. Souma dropped him like a piece of refuse.
"Come out, Kenjaku. I know you've been waiting for me."
"Heh. Nothing gets past you, does it?"
Kenjaku stepped out from the shadows, his face grim and wary as he faced Souma.
"That Veil was designed to keep Satoru out," Souma said. "To make this plan work, you needed something to stop me, too."
Kenjaku let out a helpless, dry laugh. "To be honest, I tried to make a barrier that could keep you out."
"And?"
"I couldn't do it."
Kenjaku spread his hands. "You're too much of a monster. I realized a barrier wouldn't hold you for a second, so I targeted Satoru instead."
"So your plan is... to stall me yourself?"
Souma's aura flared, a crushing tide of power that made even a thousand-year-old sorcerer like Kenjaku tremble.
But Kenjaku held his ground, a frantic, desperate grin spreading across his face. "Forgive me! But for the next ten minutes, you aren't going anywhere!"
"Behind me lies a greater cause—the future of the wasteland a century from now! I will hold you here, no matter the cost to my soul!!!"
Kenjaku's roar was full of conviction, his eyes burning with a suicidal resolve to fight.
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