"Huff... huff..."
Yuta Okkotsu leaned heavily on his katana, his chest heaving as he struggled to stabilize his breathing. Before him, the landscape was a graveyard of concrete and twisted rebar. Ryu Ishigori and Takako Uro lay amidst the ruins, their cursed energy flickering like dying embers; the battle had finally drained them of their will to fight.
"Thanks for... the dessert!" Ishigori croaked, a wide, delirious grin spreading across his battered face. The man who had spent centuries in a state of perpetual hunger finally looked satiated. For him, the clash with Yuta had been the feast he had waited lifetimes to consume.
Beside him, Takako Uro's reaction was far less cordial. She glared at Yuta with eyes that burned with a thousand years of resentment. Time had done nothing to dull the edge of her hatred for the Fujiwara clan.
Yuta rubbed his chin, a look of mild hesitation crossing his face. "Um... Uro-san? I hate to break this to you, but I'm actually not a descendant of the Fujiwara."
"What?" Uro's eyes widened in confusion. "But Kenjaku told me—"
"Hang on a second." Yuta reached into his uniform and pulled out a small, slightly singed notebook. "I remember Souma-sensei mentioning this during one of our history lectures... Ah, here it is!"
He stepped closer, holding the notebook open so Uro could see the frantic scribbles and diagrams.
"Look, according to my actual lineage, my ancestor is Sugawara no Michizane. He was framed by his political rivals and died in exile. His vengeful spirit became one of the Three Great Vengeful Spirits of Japan. And the ones who framed him? That was your old employers, the Fujiwara clan. Specifically, it was the head of the house back then, Fujiwara no Tokihira."
Yuta looked at her curiously. "You were a high-ranking vassal for the Fujiwara back then, right? You should remember that name."
Uro's breath hitched. Of course she remembered that old bastard Tokihira. The "noble" son she had taken the fall for was Tokihira's own child. The Sugawara clan hadn't been her enemy; they were the Fujiwara's greatest rivals—victims of the same corruption that had led to her execution.
In the grand scheme of things, she and the boy standing before her were practically on the same side of the grudge.
"Hahaha... cough..." Ishigori laughed so hard he spat out a mouthful of blood. "You stupid woman! You spent a millennium nurturing a grudge against the wrong family! That's priceless!"
Uro's face flushed a deep crimson. She gritted her teeth, stood up on trembling legs, and delivered a sharp kick to Ishigori's side. "Shut up, you loser!"
Her gaze snapped back to Yuta, her fury redirected toward the puppet master behind the scenes. "Kenjaku... that lying piece of filth! I'm going to tear him into ten thousand pieces!"
Yuta's ears perked up at the mention of the name. "Well... since this was all just a big misunderstanding, and we've already gotten the fighting out of our systems... I have a bit of a request."
Ishigori and Uro both turned to look at him. Yuta scratched the back of his head, looking more like a shy student than a Special Grade sorcerer. "Our enemy is also Kenjaku. Would you two consider... joining us?"
Uro's eye twitched. "Who invites their enemies to join them right after a death match?"
Ishigori stood up, dusting off his ruins of a jacket with a boisterous laugh. "Consider it a thank-you for the meal. I'll lend you a hand for a bit."
Yuta beamed. "Thank you both!"
Meguro Ward
BOOM!!!
Suguru Geto narrowly evaded a lightning-fast strike from Hajime Kashimo, the air crackling with ozone where he had stood a millisecond before.
Such terrifying speed and power, Geto thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. In terms of raw physical combat, Kashimo was a beast that rivaled even the upper echelons of the jujutsu world.
"Hey, hey, hey! Don't just run away!" Kashimo shouted, his body wreathed in blue-white electricity. He moved like a jagged bolt of lightning, sticking to Geto's trail with relentless aggression.
Kashimo's technique was more than just simple electrical discharge. He used current to overcharge his muscles and overclock his nervous system. In his previous life, he had spent decades subjecting his body to electrical shocks to forge his flesh into a conductor—a process not unlike enduring a perpetual heavenly tribulation.
As Kashimo lunged again, Geto's voice rang out with authority. "Earthquake Catfish!"
The ground beneath Kashimo's feet suddenly surged and heaved, a massive chasm opening up to swallow him. Kashimo stumbled, but he didn't falter. He slammed his heel into the earth, sending a massive surge of electricity into the soil. Sparks and arcs of lightning tore through the dirt, pulverizing Geto's summoned curse before it could drag him down.
In the opening, Geto closed the distance, the Special Grade tool Playful Cloud whistling through the air in a heavy arc.
CRACK!!!
Kashimo crossed his arms in a guard, but the sheer force of the blow sent him hurtling through the air, smashing through a nearby building.
Geto didn't pursue. Instead, he looked down at his hands. They were trembling, a numbing sensation creeping up his arms. The electricity had conducted through the metallic segments of Playful Cloud the moment of impact.
"Hah!"
The ruins of the building exploded as Kashimo burst forth, a manic grin on his face. He flicked his wrist, sending a bolt of lightning arcing toward Geto.
Geto dodged with practiced grace, but the bolt didn't hit the ground. It curved mid-air, tracking his movement like a heat-seeking missile.
This was Kashimo's "guaranteed hit." By imbuing his target with a positive charge through physical contact and then releasing a negative charge, he created an irresistible attraction. Without a domain, he had achieved the ultimate dream of every sorcerer: a strike that could not be avoided.
Just as the lightning was about to connect, the puppet of the curse Jogo appeared in front of Geto, acting as a lightning rod.
CRACK-BOOM!
The puppet was charred to a crisp instantly, its cursed energy dispersing into the air.
"Cursed Spirit Manipulation?" Kashimo's eyes lit up. He had heard whispers from Kenjaku about this ability, and seeing it in action only fueled his excitement. He transformed his movement into a blur of pure current, shooting toward Geto like a piercing arrow.
"Good! Very good! That's it! Give me everything you've got!"
Geto sighed, stowing Playful Cloud away. While he enjoyed the thrill of martial arts, he knew it was time to rely on his true specialty. "Fine. Let's see if you can handle a little more spirit."
"Cursed Technique Reversal: Grant!"
Three identical replicas of Jogo appeared around Kashimo, their hands raised. Torrential flames, hot enough to melt stone, erupted in a pincer maneuver.
Kashimo didn't even slow down. His skin turned a scorched, angry red as he tore through the wall of fire, his fist smashing through one of the Jogo replicas like it was made of glass. He grabbed the second one by the throat and hurled it at the third.
But Geto was already there. He appeared in Kashimo's blind spot, a small, spinning vortex of dark energy swirling in his palm.
"Maximum: Uzumaki!"
A high-density cluster of thousands of lower-level curses condensed into a single point of impact. The small vortex hit with the force of a tactical explosive.
BOOM!
Kashimo was blasted backward, coughing up a spray of blood. His shirt was shredded, revealing a gaping, bloody wound in his abdomen. He skidded across the pavement, his boots smoking, but as he stabilized himself, his laughter only grew louder.
"Incredible! This is exactly what I was looking for!"
As a combat fanatic, Kashimo's greatest regret in his first life was the lack of an equal. He had reached the peak of the jujutsu world as an old man, alone at the top, haunted by a crushing sense of solitude.
When Kenjaku had approached him with the promise of a second life and a duel with the legendary Sukuna, he had agreed without hesitation. Even if his opponent today wasn't Sukuna, Geto was more than enough to satisfy his soul.
He sought only a defeat worthy of his name. What did it matter who delivered it?
"In that case, I shall show you the respect you deserve!"
Kashimo's body began to glow with a violent blue-purple aura. His facial features warped, shifting into something primal and monstrous. He crouched low, his very essence beginning to hum with a frequency that threatened to dissolve his physical form.
"Technique Release: Mythical Beast Amber!"
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