(Note: This chapter contains minor adaptations from the original plot.)
Within the walls of Jujutsu High.
Kokichi Muta stared at the message on his phone for a long beat. Without a word, he crushed the device, ensuring its total destruction.
Moving with practiced silence, he retrieved two digital voice recorders he had prepared long ago, packaged them carefully, and headed to the campus post station. After filling out the sender information, he hesitated, his pen hovering over the form before finally scrawling a name: Miwa Kasumi. He set the delivery for a scheduled release.
Once everything was handled, Muta slipped away into the shadows.
A few minutes later, a certain white-haired figure with a mischievous air sneaked into the post station, glancing around like a cat in a fish market.
An Undisclosed Base
Kenjaku and Mahito stepped into the dimly lit hideout, greeted immediately by a sharp, rasping voice.
"You're late."
Kokichi Muta lay suspended in a nutrient tank, his body a map of bandages, with only tufts of hair and fragments of his face visible. Countless electrical wires and IV tubes snaked around him like iron chains, a scene straight out of a bio-horror nightmare.
Mahito pinched his nose, looking around with theatrical disgust. "It still smells like mildew in here! I guess if you spend half your life soaking in water and can't even stand up, you're bound to grow mushrooms, right?"
Muta ignored the cruel jest. He had endured far worse humiliations over the past decade.
Kokichi Muta—the sorcerer behind the puppet "Ultimate Mechamaru"—was born with a Heavenly Restriction. Unlike Toji or Maki, he hadn't lost his cursed energy. On the contrary, he possessed a massive technique range and cursed energy output far beyond his grade. The price was his body: he was born without a right hand or legs below the knee, with no sensation from the waist down. His skin was so fragile that even moonlight could burn him, and he lived in constant, stabbing pain.
Because of this, he had become the "traitor" of Jujutsu High, feeding information to Kenjaku in exchange for a chance at a healthy body. That chance lay in Mahito's soul-warping technique—Idle Transfiguration.
"How dull," Mahito sighed, rolling his eyes when Muta remained silent. "If it weren't for the Binding Vow, I'd kill you right now."
Muta let out a cold snort. "Not harming anyone at Kyoto High was also part of the Vow. You've already broken it."
Mahito spread his hands shamelessly. "That was Hanami, not me!"
"I have no interest in debating with a curse. Restore my body now, you filth," Muta demanded.
Mahito rubbed his chin with a menacing grin. "Ah~ I feel like I might use too much power and turn you into a pill bug by mistake!"
Despite the threat, Mahito knew he couldn't play games. A Binding Vow with another person was a volatile thing. If violated, the consequences—to one's life or technique—were unpredictable. Besides, he could always restore Muta's body first and then kill him. That wouldn't break the Vow.
Mahito reached out, his hand glowing as he applied Idle Transfiguration. He slowly, meticulously remolded Muta's soul. "Be grateful, you piece of trash!"
After a long silence, Mahito stepped back. From the nutrient tank, a naked youth slowly stood up on two solid legs.
Kokichi Muta looked at his hands, feeling the miraculous sensation of touch for the first time.
"Not very cute, are you?" Mahito teased. "You got everything you wanted; you should look a bit happier!"
Muta turned his gaze toward the curse, his eyes hard. "The celebration can wait until the battle is over."
"Fair enough!" Mahito's face twisted into a sadistic leer. "Breaking a toy I just fixed... that's the kind of thrill I live for!"
"Mechamaru!"
Muta threw his arms wide. Dozens of miniature mechanical puppets flew from behind him. However, these mass-produced trinkets were no match for a Special Grade. Mahito warped his soul, enlarging his fist to a massive size and slamming it down.
CRASH!!!
The puppets were pulverized instantly, but Muta's silhouette had already vanished.
Mahito frowned. "He ran? I suppose running is the logical choice for him, but how boring. I thought it would be a real fight, not a rat race."
"No, he hasn't run yet," Kenjaku said, finally speaking up.
Suddenly, the ground groaned and buckled. A gargantuan mechanical titan erupted from the earth, towering over the clearing.
Ultimate Mechamaru: Mode Absolute!
Inside the cockpit, Muta sat at the controls, his face grim. Kenjaku had cast a Veil before the fight started; all signals were jammed. He couldn't call for help. He would have to carve his own path out of this.
If he could kill these two, he could go to Souma Gojo. He could use his intel to bargain for a pardon. The information about the sorcerer's plans was surely enough to earn him a second chance. And if he failed... the package for Miwa would be delivered in a few days. One of the recorders held everything.
Muta grit his teeth. No! I won't let it be mailed! I'm going back!
I'm going back to everyone... back to her!
His eyes turned bloodshot, his voice a raw, desperate roar. "Burn everything! Mechamaru!"
"Miracle Cannon!"
Mahito lunged forward with a manic grin. "Let me snuff out that hope of yours!"
A short, brutal time later.
Mahito's right hand hovered just inches from Muta's face. The boy lay slumped, his body broken and exhausted. One more inch, and Idle Transfiguration would end his life.
But that hand wouldn't move.
Mahito swallowed hard. Cold sweat broke across his brow, tracing a path down his cheek before dripping onto the floor.
Souma Gojo's hand rested heavily on Mahito's shoulder. His sunglasses were pulled down slightly, revealing the piercing, celestial blue of his eyes.
"Move another inch," Souma whispered, "and see what happens."
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