As the fierce battle between Sukuna and Jogo raged on, the catalyst of absolute violence accelerated the many battles on the perimeter toward their conclusions.
Under Meiji Jingu-mae Station.
"Boom!"
With a dull thud, a mountain-sized cursed spirit was split clean in two by a massive long-handled battle axe.
Mei Mei elegantly flicked the black blood off the axe blade and raised a hand to tidy the hair at her temples.
Behind her, Ui Ui dutifully handed her a pristine white handkerchief.
"You've worked hard, Big Sister."
"Phew, earning this money really isn't easy."
Mei Mei took the handkerchief and wiped her hands. Her eyes, usually narrowed with shrewd calculation, peered toward the center of Shibuya.
"A monster of that level... Is that Yoru kid really going to go head-to-head with it?"
A meaningful smile played across Mei Mei's lips.
"Well, since I've already placed my bets on him, I can only hope he performs a miracle."
"After all, if he dies, who will pay me that astronomical final balance?"
Meanwhile, amidst the ruins of another street.
"Whew... whew..."
Maki Zenin gasped for air. The long blade she held, reinforced with cursed energy, was now covered in notches.
At her feet lay several completely exorcised cursed spirit corpses and two curse users with broken limbs, barely clinging to life.
Without Satoru Gojo's suppression, these curse users hiding in the shadows had swarmed out like hyenas scenting blood.
But before Maki's body—which was gradually approaching the limits of a Heavenly Restriction—their struggles appeared pathetically futile.
"Yoru..."
Maki stood up, leaning on her sword, and looked up at the sky shrouded in dark red light.
In her mind, that figure from the training grounds surfaced again—the one who had knocked her down time after time with a wooden sword, yet patiently guided her breathing rhythm over and over.
'You better not die, you idiot...'
Maki grit her teeth, forcing down the fatigue in her body, and turned to run in another direction.
She knew her current strength wasn't enough to intervene in a clash of gods of that magnitude. All she could do was clear out as many small fry as possible on the perimeter, easing the pressure on Yoru even by a fraction.
On a high tower some distance from the central battlefield.
Kokichi Muta's real body sat inside the specialized cockpit of Ultimate Mechamaru, seeing everything happening on the battlefield through mechanical puppets spread across Shibuya.
When he saw a casual slash from Sukuna slice through a building like a knife through tofu via a puppet's electronic eye, his back was instantly drenched in cold sweat.
"This... this isn't a power humans can oppose..."
Mechamaru's voice trembled uncontrollably.
He once thought he had seen the deepest malice of cursed spirits after making a Binding Vow with Mahito in exchange for a healthy body.
But before the King of Curses, Mahito's level of evil was practically a child's prank!
"Yoru... are you really going to face that monster?"
Mechamaru gripped the control stick tightly, his gaze fixed on the red afterimage rapidly approaching the central battlefield on the screen.
He knew the level of this fight had completely surpassed the limits of what someone at his grade could influence.
Even if he piloted that massive Ultimate Mechamaru, he probably wouldn't last a single second against Sukuna's slashes.
"All I can do... is witness."
"Witness this battle that will decide the fate of all Shibuya—and the entire jujutsu world."
Mechamaru took a deep breath, turning all the puppets' recording functions to their maximum.
He would record every frame and every moment of Yoru's battle perfectly to transmit to the outside world.
Meanwhile, Yoru, the focal point of everyone's attention, was weaving through a dim alleyway.
He was less than two kilometers from the battlefield of Sukuna and Jogo.
He could clearly feel the sense of distortion in the air caused by the extreme heat.
However, just as Yoru prepared to dash out of the alley in one go.
A steady yet rhythmic, predatory footstep suddenly echoed from the shadows ahead.
*Tap, tap...*
Yoru stopped and looked calmly into the deep shadows.
"You're a bit slower than I expected, Toji."
Along with Yoru's words, a tall, burly figure slowly emerged from the corner of the alley.
It was a man wearing a tight black short-sleeved shirt with a scar at the corner of his mouth.
He held a strangely shaped short sword, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He exuded an extremely dangerous and unfathomable aura.
"Tch, this feeling of past memories being forcibly shoved into my head really isn't pleasant."
Toji Fushiguro stopped and tilted his chin up slightly. His pitch-black eyes, like an abyss, stared at Yoru with a hint of complexity.
"I didn't expect us to meet again this way in this merged, bizarre space-time, kid."
Due to the gradual merging of timelines, Toji Fushiguro had fully awakened his memories from 2006.
He remembered clearly how he had suffered at this youth's hands and the secret agreement they had made.
"Since I took your deposit, I naturally show up on time."
Toji turned his head, looking toward a nearby skyscraper, his lips curling into a cruel and playful arc.
"That old hag, Granny Ogami, actually thinks she can replicate my physical power just by using the body's information summoned through a Seance Technique."
"It's quite amusing—she actually wants me to go and crush myself?"
Yoru nodded slightly, tightening his grip on Shiranui.
Although his current strength after activating the Slayer Mark was enough to defeat Toji in any state in a head-on fight, he couldn't afford to waste too much stamina and cursed energy at this critical moment.
He needed an absolute trump card to deal with the true threat hidden in the shadows.
"I'll leave that fake to you."
Yoru's eyes instantly turned icy. Through the Transparent World, he had already locked onto a certain presence that was quietly moving away from the central battlefield.
"Shibuya can't handle any more chaos."
"As for me..."
Yoru turned his gaze toward the central area shrouded in dark red light.
"I'm going to deal with that bastard who's treating the world like a playground."
Toji Fushiguro licked his lips, a bloodthirsty excitement appearing in his eyes.
"As long as the price is right, I don't mind helping you out."
"But, kid..."
Toji turned around, his figure gradually blending into the shadows, leaving only a suspenseful sentence behind.
"Besides that fake, the rat you told me to watch seems to have taken an interesting box."
"Do you need me to bring that rat's head back to you while I'm at it?"
Yoru didn't answer; he simply turned into a red bolt of lightning and vanished at the end of the alley.
"Kenjaku, the Prison Realm..."
"None of you are getting away."
The multiple lines of battle officially intertwined at this moment.
Toji Fushiguro went to face the descending fake, while Yoru headed toward the King of Curses' massacre.
The final curtain was about to rise.
"So, about the payment?"
Toji Fushiguro held out a hand, expertly making the universal gesture for money.
"One billion."
Yoru stated the astronomical figure without hesitation.
"Mei Mei will pay for me."
"Deal!"
Toji Fushiguro's eyes lit up instantly. He tucked his short sword back into the mouth of the cursed spirit at his waist and turned toward the direction Yoru pointed.
"Since I've taken the money, I'll handle both the rat and the fake."
"You'd better not die at Sukuna's hands, kid."
Toji Fushiguro waved a hand with his back to Yoru, his figure vanishing into the darkness.
"If you die, who will I collect that billion from?"
Watching Toji's departing back, Yoru took a deep breath.
Now, he could finally face the King of Curses without distraction.
*Vroom—!*
A layer of dazzling black and red flames erupted from Shiranui's blade.
Yoru turned around, his gaze piercing toward the hellish central battlefield.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Sukuna."
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