Chapter 94: Mechamaru's Betrayal?
October 19. A dam deep in the mountains of Nagano Prefecture.
The sky hung low and dark, as if it might collapse at any moment.
The massive concrete dam stretched across the valley like a dead giant, blocking the river, blocking the wind, blocking even the feeling of life itself. Everything here felt cold, sealed off, abandoned by the world.
And hidden beneath that silent wall of concrete, a deal was reaching its end.
"The Binding Vow has been fulfilled."
The young man speaking looked barely human.
His body was wrapped in bandages from head to toe, his skin pale as paper, his limbs so thin they looked ready to snap if touched too hard. He lay inside a life support device shaped like a bathtub, surrounded by pipes, fluid lines, and humming machinery. Only his eyes still burned with life.
Or rather, with obsession.
"Kokichi Muta," Mahito said lightly, tilting his head. "You really are impatient."
Kokichi ignored the mockery.
His gaze was fixed on Mahito alone.
"Now fulfill your end of the deal."
He spoke quietly, but there was no hesitation in his voice.
Kokichi Muta.
Second year at Kyoto Jujutsu High.
The true body behind Ultimate Mechamaru.
A sorcerer born with Heavenly Restriction.
He had been given immense cursed energy output and absurd range in exchange for a body that could barely be called functional. Skin that felt constant pain. Limbs that could not move properly. A life spent in darkness, hidden away from the world like something shameful.
He never wanted that power.
Not once.
All he had ever wanted was simple.
To stand beneath the sun like a normal person.
To walk.
To breathe outside.
To go see her.
"Relax," Mahito said with a grin that immediately made the room feel dirtier. "I may be a cursed spirit, but I keep my promises."
He stepped forward and raised one hand.
Then he placed that stitched palm against Kokichi's forehead.
"[Idle Transfiguration.]"
A strange ripple of cursed energy spread through Kokichi's body.
It did not destroy.
It rewrote.
The withered flesh along his arms began to swell and fill out. His right arm, which had never properly formed, began to take shape. His twisted legs straightened. Burned, ravaged skin smoothed over little by little, becoming whole, pale, and human.
This was not healing.
Not in the ordinary sense.
This was direct intervention at the level of the soul.
Even Reverse Cursed Technique could not accomplish something like this.
That was what made Mahito terrifying.
He did not fix the body.
He touched the self beneath it and forced the flesh to obey.
A minute later, the machinery hissed open.
A young man stepped out of the life support device.
Slender.
Handsome.
Whole.
Kokichi lifted his hands slowly, staring at them in silence. His fingers flexed. His feet touched the floor. His knees did not collapse. His back did not scream in pain.
He stood there.
Just stood.
For seventeen years, he had endured life in darkness for this moment.
His throat tightened.
"Miwa…"
Her name slipped from his lips like prayer.
A fleeting tenderness passed through his eyes.
If he could return to everyone like this, in a healthy body, then maybe all of it would have been worth it. Even the betrayal. Even the secrecy. Even the guilt of dealing with curses behind Jujutsu High's back.
Even if he had to die after this.
"All right, enough of that."
Suguru Geto stood off to the side, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe, watching the scene with cold indifference.
His tone was flat.
"The deal is finished."
His eyes landed on Kokichi.
"So now you can die."
Mahito moved the instant those words fell.
No warning.
No countdown.
His arm warped into a grotesque whip lined with spikes and hooks, then lashed forward with a shriek through the air straight at Kokichi's throat.
That was how curses did business.
The moment a deal stopped being useful, so did the other party.
"I knew you'd try that!"
Kokichi threw himself backward and narrowly avoided the strike. The spikes grazed past his face and tore chunks out of the metal equipment behind him instead.
He had a healthy body now, yes, but he was still Kokichi Muta.
A semi Grade 1 sorcerer.
A strategist.
A man who had lived too long on the edge to trust a curse's goodwill.
He had never expected to walk out of this place alive.
Or rather, he had already decided that if this was where his story ended, then he would drag them down with him.
"Ultimate Mechamaru, Prototype 0!"
His shout rang through the hidden chamber.
"Activate!"
The dam trembled.
Then it shook violently enough to make the walls groan.
Above them, the water trapped beneath the dam erupted as though something enormous had awakened beneath the surface. The lake burst apart under a rising mass of metal and cursed energy.
Water exploded skyward in a colossal spray.
And from the heart of it, a giant mecha rose into view.
It was dozens of meters tall, a towering machine of steel, armor, and complex cursed construction. Its single crimson eye glowed with terrifying intensity beneath the dark sky. Every armor plate was covered in engraved formulas, each line pulsing with blue cursed energy.
This was no ordinary puppet.
This was Kokichi's final weapon.
The culmination of seventeen years of stockpiled cursed energy, buried plans, and desperate obsession.
"Oh?"
Mahito looked up, genuinely impressed for a moment.
"So that was your insurance policy."
He smiled again.
"It looks scary."
Then he shrugged.
"But a bigger toy is still just a toy."
His body flickered, becoming a blur as he launched himself toward the giant machine.
In his mind, the logic was simple.
Huge bodies were clumsy. Big targets. Easy to reach. As long as he got close enough to the cockpit and touched the pilot once, [Idle Transfiguration] would end everything instantly.
Inside the cockpit, Kokichi pulled on a specially prepared control helmet.
The screens around him lit up at once.
Data streams flooded his vision.
Dozens of movement vectors. Target locks. Energy reserves. Range calculations.
Through the synchronization system, his nerves and the machine became one. He could move it as though it were his own body.
"A toy?"
Kokichi's voice came through the speakers, stripped of all weakness.
"Then let me show you the weight of seventeen years."
He raised one hand.
"Floating Cannons. Deploy."
Mechanical panels opened across Prototype 0's back with a rapid sequence of clicks.
Then dozens of floating cannons shot into the air and spread out in formation like a swarm of metallic insects. Every unit locked onto Mahito's position at once.
"Fire."
The first volley came down like rain.
Dense beams of cursed energy tore through the darkness from every angle, not random, but calculated. Every line of fire had been mapped in advance. Every escape path was covered by another shot waiting to intersect it.
This was not suppression fire.
It was a net.
Mahito laughed as he moved.
"Oh, that's pretty nice."
His body twisted in impossible ways, compressing into flat sheets, stretching into snake like shapes, folding around the beams at angles that defied normal anatomy. A few attacks came too close to evade, so he casually threw out transformed humans as disposable shields.
They expanded in midair.
Then exploded under the cannon fire.
Blast after blast lit the sky above the dam.
And Mahito kept slipping through the smoke untouched.
"As expected," Kokichi muttered, jaw tightening. "He's difficult."
But he had never expected the opening exchange to settle anything.
This was only the warm up.
He had not come here to wound Mahito.
He had come here to kill him.
Prototype 0's chest plates split apart.
A massive cannon emerged from the center.
Its muzzle glowed brighter and brighter as cursed energy flooded into it.
This was different from the floating cannons.
Different from basic bombardment.
A year's worth of stored cursed energy was compressed into one single point. The density became so extreme that the surrounding air bent under it, whining with pressure.
"[Ultimate Cannon.]"
Kokichi's eyes locked onto Mahito.
"You're not dodging this."
Boom.
The beam fired.
It did not look like cursed energy.
It looked like destruction itself given shape.
A massive pillar of light tore through the air and swallowed Mahito head on. Everything in its path ceased to matter. The surface of the water beneath it vanished in a blast of steam. Concrete from the dam edge disintegrated. The beam continued forward and struck a distant mountain.
The mountaintop disappeared.
Not cracked.
Not shattered.
Gone.
The resulting shockwave flattened trees across the surrounding slopes.
Inside the cockpit, Kokichi stared at the blast zone without blinking.
Even a Special Grade couldn't take that cleanly.
Not with a full year of cursed energy packed into one shot.
The smoke drifted.
Then a silhouette emerged from it.
Mahito.
Half of his body had been blown away.
His torso was missing large sections. One arm was gone. Part of his face had been obliterated.
And he was laughing.
Not in pain.
In delight.
"That hurt," he said, still grinning. "That really hurt."
Flesh buds writhed from the ruined edges of his body. They intertwined, swelled, and reconstructed everything in seconds. Arm. Shoulder. Face. Torso.
Two breaths later, he stood there completely restored.
As long as the soul remained intact, the body was only clay.
That was Mahito's truth.
And that truth was infuriating.
Kokichi's heart sank, but not into despair.
He had already accepted that this wouldn't be easy.
This battle was not only about survival anymore.
It was also about dignity.
About defiance.
About buying even the smallest chance to see the people he wanted to return to.
"It's not over."
Prototype 0's voice boomed across the valley.
Kokichi's hands flew over the controls.
"Special Grade cursed spirit."
His eyes hardened.
"If one year won't kill you…"
Armor plates shifted again.
New cannon ports opened across both arms.
"Then I'll use two."
More ports emerged.
"Five."
The cursed energy output on the screens spiked higher.
"Ten."
The mecha's full body lit up like a war machine waking from hibernation.
"I'll keep firing until there's nothing left of you to regenerate."
.....
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