The Zenin Clan had fallen.
Not in war.
Not in politics.
Not in betrayal.
But in a single night.
Bodies discovered at dawn.
Barriers shattered.
Elite fighters erased.
And no cursed energy residue anywhere.
Only clean cuts.
Precise deaths.
Fear Without Presence
Inside Tokyo Jujutsu High, emergency meetings were called.
Teachers whispered.
Students were evacuated.
Barriers reinforced.
"Was it a curse?" one instructor asked nervously.
"No," another replied.
"It was him."
Across the table sat Maki Zenin, silent.
She already knew the answer.
There was only one man capable of that level of destruction without leaving cursed traces.
The Story Grows
In underground sorcerer circles, the rumors spread like wildfire.
"They say he walks through Domains."
"They say barriers can't detect him."
"They say he killed an entire clan alone."
Some exaggerated.
Some whispered in fear.
Some refused to believe.
But one fact remained consistent—
He had zero cursed energy.
And yet sorcerers were dying.
The Survivor's Shame
Deep within a hidden Zenin safehouse, Naoya Zenin listened to the rumors.
His wounds were bandaged.
His pride was not.
"They're calling him… the Sorcerer Killer," a servant muttered.
Naoya's jaw tightened.
That title should have belonged to someone powerful.
Someone blessed.
Not a "failure."
But he had seen it.
Felt it.
Speed meant nothing against that instinct.
Naoya crushed the cup in his hand.
"He's not a killer," he whispered angrily.
"He's a curse."
The Name is Born
Meanwhile—
In a dark alley lit by flickering neon lights—
A group of rogue sorcerers argued.
"If he's targeting clans, we're next!"
"No. He only hunts those tied to Jujutsu society."
A tall figure stepped forward and spoke quietly:
"He doesn't use cursed energy."
"He hunts sorcerers."
"He erases bloodlines."
There was a pause.
Then someone muttered:
"The Sorcerer Killer."
Silence followed.
The name stuck.
Not because it sounded dramatic.
But because it felt accurate.
The Man Behind the Title
Far away from cities and clans—
On a quiet rooftop—
Toji Fushiguro stood alone.
Wind moved through his hair.
He didn't know about the rumors.
He didn't care.
Titles meant nothing.
Revenge meant everything.
But somewhere in the shadows—
Ancient eyes watched with amusement.
A slow clap echoed in the darkness.
"Good," a voice whispered.
"Let the world fear him."
Because fear weakens defenses.
And when the time came—
The true king would step forward.
And even the Sorcerer Killer would face something beyond instinct.
The name had been born.
And the world of Jujutsu would never be the same again.