Whether in competitive boxing or actual street fighting, your master will always repeat one phrase: "Stay calm, you must stay calm." It's not that a state of frenzy is inherently bad for fighting—quite the opposite. In a frenzy, your strength and speed are massively enhanced, adrenaline causes you to ignore pain, and you feel omnipotent, as if you could punch a hole straight through the sky.
But this state is an illusion. You lose your most important asset: a cool head. Right now, Jiro Awasaka was exactly in this state.
He roared as he charged forward, his hands positioned at his sides like the vicious claws of an evil spirit. Mid-charge, his body and mind were completely swallowed by the frenzy. He could feel massive amounts of kinetic force bursting from his trembling frame. His Cursed Energy was practically unleashed to its absolute limit. In this moment, he lacked all rational thought; he only wanted to erupt with his complete self, his perfect self, his transcendent self, right in front of the "god" standing before him!
Mahito was actually quite surprised when he saw Jiro Awasaka. In the original story, he was a named character who had a rather stunning showing. He had faced off against the protagonist duo, Megumi Fushiguro and Yuji Itadori. If it hadn't been for Fushiguro's sharp mind, Awasaka really might have killed them both.
Curse Users didn't have official grades, but based on his abilities, he was undoubtedly a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer. As a stepping stone, he was perfect!
Mahito didn't dodge. One of the reasons he came here was to excavate the potential of this Half-Cursed Spirit body. Facing an opponent already devoured by a frenzy, there was naturally no need to evade.
The instant they closed the distance, Awasaka's fist was already in front of Mahito's eyes—a headshot!
He wasn't some uneducated, wild Curse User who just fought on instinct. He had received professional education in human anatomy. Long before Satoru Gojo was even born, he had been recklessly experimenting on living humans. He understood every single structure of the human body, and every punch he threw was laden with pure murderous intent.
Mahito raised both arms to block. Awasaka's fists smashed violently into his forearms. He thought this punch would at least rock Mahito's frame, forcing the King of Curses back. But it didn't. Punching his arms felt like punching solid steel plates!
"Ugh." Awasaka forced down a groan of pain. His eyes widened as he stared at Mahito's arms. Due to the massive impact, Mahito's white sleeves had torn open, revealing not soft skin, but silver-gray steel. Damn it, he actually *had* punched steel plates!
Mahito flexed his arms, and the steel vanished. Only then did Awasaka realize there had never been any steel plates to begin; Mahito's very flesh had transformed into steel.
Normally, Awasaka would have retreated to calmly analyze exactly what Mahito's Cursed Technique was. But right now, his brain was completely devoid of its usual composure. He only wanted to kill, had to kill, lived to kill! He forcibly arrested his backward momentum, dug his heels in, and lunged violently once again!
A flurry of fists ravaged the air! Awasaka unleashed a devastating combo!
Mahito finally stepped back, but he wasn't flustered. He was retreating methodically, his hands calmly parrying. Awasaka was swinging with all his might, but every time his fists connected, it was inevitably Awasaka himself who took damage. He punched while roaring, and suddenly his knuckles burst with blood. Even though Mahito was solely on the defensive, Awasaka was the first to bleed.
*What terrifying reaction speed!* Awasaka couldn't help but admire it. He could tell Mahito actually had very little combat experience, because his blocks were always half a beat slow. Yet, his monstrous reflexes more than made up for his clumsy technique.
Logically, such amateurish taijutsu should have been shattered by Awasaka's overwhelming pressure long ago. Yet Mahito defended with ease, a smile even playing on his lips.
Power! Speed! Durability! Reflexes! The absolute superiority in base physical stats meant Mahito didn't need martial arts technique to completely stonewall Awasaka's assault. He even had the surplus energy to carefully observe Awasaka's striking patterns, greedily absorbing the man's combat experience.
He was reveling in his first actual battle since birth, and his chosen whetstone was Jiro Awasaka!
Suddenly, Awasaka's world tilted. His mouth gaped open, white foam spilling past his lips. A foot had planted itself directly into his abdomen. Mahito had actually managed to find the time mid-exchange to throw a vicious kick. Awasaka hadn't registered the strike at all; before the pain could even catch up to him, he was already flying backward like a cannonball.
The roaring crowd fell dead silent for a split second. The scene playing out before them was too surreal, leaving them completely dumbfounded. Can you imagine a middle-aged man, built wider than a black bear, being sent spinning through the air like a ragdoll tossed aside by a little girl? Right now, the audience was witnessing exactly that.
Awasaka felt the sky and earth spinning. He rotated in the air at least twice. He didn't hit the floor; instead, like a pebble skipping across a lake, he tumbled and smashed violently into the arena's perimeter wall. With a deafening boom, the concrete-reinforced wall shattered and caved in, burying him in the rubble.
Mahito exhaled slowly. He stripped off his ruined white shirt and tossed it casually to the side, leaving his torso bare. Despite the intense high-speed exchange, there wasn't a single drop of sweat on him. His pale skin rippled with sharp, streamlined muscles. He slowly stretched his limbs, like a wild leopard limbering up before a meal.
"What's wrong, Awasaka? Not planning on getting up?" he said amidst his slow breaths. His voice shifted from light to heavy, from slow to rapid, ultimately carrying a divine, oppressive weight, like a heavenly tribulation: "Weren't you—challenging a God?!"
The deafening declaration reached the audience's ears without any need for the arena's amplifiers, echoing like a myriad of hidden Buddhist chants. The announcer abruptly snapped back to reality. Clutching his microphone, he roared:
"The invincible Jiro Awasaka has fallen! Let us congratulate the pure, evil victor—"
A massive boom suddenly cut the announcer off. An explosive force erupted from Awasaka's position in the rubble. Pushing aside the caved-in debris, the buried Awasaka slowly walked out from the epicenter.
"Hold on a second. Who said... it's over?"
The massive middle-aged man hooked an index finger into the collar of his shirt. With a slow but immensely powerful downward pull, the fabric shrieked in protest until he ripped the garment completely off his body with the strength of a single finger.
He threw his arms wide, tossing the torn halves away to reveal an immaculate musculature resembling a marble statue. Sweat dripped down the grooves of his muscles, evaporating with his heavy breaths. It was Cursed Energy. His Cursed Energy was practically materializing to vaporize his sweat, circulating at a terrifying speed to completely envelop his body like heavy plate armor.
There wasn't a single scratch on Awasaka's body! Inverse!
Awasaka had named his Innate Technique 'Inverse'. When he activated it, powerful attacks became incredibly weak, while weak attacks became devastatingly strong. He could freely adjust the timing of his technique's activation. It was an invincible technique; as long as his dynamic vision could keep up, no attack could ever harm him.
In the original story, no matter how the protagonist duo attacked, they couldn't breach his defenses, while his counterattacks nearly cost them their lives. If Fushiguro hadn't had a flash of inspiration, Awasaka would have likely killed them both.
A genuine, invincible victor! This was Jiro Awasaka!
Although he hadn't reacted to the initial kick, he had activated Inverse right before hitting the wall. Even though the kinetic impact was enough to shatter reinforced concrete, the force transferred to his flesh was softer than a falling feather.
*Thud.*
Awasaka marched forward again. The sudden strike hadn't intimidated him; on the contrary, his spirits were soaring, his frenzy unparalleled! He felt he had never experienced such a thrilling peak in his entire life. His enemy was the Lord of Curses, aiming for the throne of God. He had a premonition that he would never experience a battle this exhilarating again.
*Thud.*
Mahito also began to advance. He had long since canceled the frenzy-inducing technique from his eyes; Awasaka no longer needed guiding. The frenzied emotion had entirely consumed his rationality. Mahito felt his body stretch with every slow breath. He could feel the vibration of his Cursed Energy core. He was growing—evolving at high speed, ascending!
Simultaneously, the two slowly walking figures broke into a dead sprint.
Inverse! Idle Transfiguration!
Awasaka suddenly leaped, throwing a vicious punch mid-air. He channeled his Cursed Energy into his fist without holding anything back. To a Jujutsu Sorcerer, a moment's focus would reveal an ominous black light coiling tightly around his knuckles—the sign of overflowing Cursed Energy.
This time, Mahito chose not to block. He reached both hands forward.
But Awasaka suddenly vanished from Mahito's line of sight. A ferocious gale of a punch tore in from Mahito's flank. A pivot step! In martial arts across the globe, this was a highly difficult footwork technique. By explosively pivoting on his ankle, he rotated his entire body. From the opponent's perspective, he seemingly vanished, exploiting the blind spot to strike from the side.
*He dodged!* No, rather, *he calmed down.*
The Idle Transfiguration Mahito had prepared to use with his outstretched hands grasped nothing but air. Although Awasaka was in a state of absolute frenzy, his mind was actually growing colder and more calculated. Maintaining absolute lucidity within a berserker's rage allowed him to transcend his usual limits. He had surpassed himself; he was more perfect, more lethal.
Awasaka had reached his absolute zenith, all for the sake of this glorious, blood-soaked battle!
Mahito drifted to the side like a weightless phantom. The tempestuous fists instantly tracked him. Roaring, Awasaka unleashed a continuous barrage. He stuck to Mahito like a shadow, crashing down like a massive, surging tide. His fists never strayed more than half a foot from Mahito's body. To the audience, their high-speed movements generated howling gusts of wind. Even the spectators on the second floor could feel the suffocating bloodlust hitting their faces.
Everyone threw their hands up, screaming in ecstasy.
Suddenly, Mahito raised a leg—a knee strike! Awasaka reacted instantly, bringing his own leg up to perfectly block it. During their first clash, Awasaka had been far too focused on Mahito's hands, terrified of being touched, which kept his attention locked entirely on the Curse's upper body. But this was their second exchange; he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He blocked the sudden knee.
In the very next instant, Mahito's fist came howling toward him!
Awasaka technically didn't need to dodge. His Inverse could turn this devastating blow into a gentle breeze. But he dodged anyway. He clearly remembered Mahito's ability: *"A single touch can reshape a human soul."* Even with a practically invincible technique like Inverse, if the attack wasn't a direct physical impact but an indirect technique, his defense would be useless.
*Even so, the advantage is mine!* Awasaka roared internally. *Because combat experience is my true weapon!*
Exactly. Awasaka had seen through it. While Mahito's physical stats were absurd, this seemed to be his first time fighting hand-to-hand. His attacks were linear; while he had moments of instinctual brilliance, he mostly just aimed straight for the face. As long as he capitalized on this, Awasaka, with his vastly superior experience, couldn't lose.
Next, he just needed to gradually ramp up the pressure, using his veteran instincts to crush the novice.
*Victory is mine!*
The corners of Awasaka's mouth hooked up into a bloodthirsty grin. He couldn't wait to see this lofty King of Curses groveling on the floor. It would be a moment worth remembering for the rest of his life.
A left hook suddenly came his way. Awasaka focused, dodging and preparing his counter.
Then an uppercut. Then a heavy right straight. A left weaving jab. A knee strike.
A rapid combination of punches.
And finally—a spinning kick!
"Urgh—!" Awasaka staggered back. Luckily, the last hit was a kick, allowing him to use Inverse in time to defend. The impact didn't break his posture, but the recoil sent Mahito sliding heavily backward as well. Then, Mahito leaped forward again, throwing fists like a hurricane, bobbing and weaving side to side like a raging storm. Awasaka could only retreat, block, and dodge.
*What... what is going on? What the hell is happening?*
Awasaka continuously evaded. He had been on the offensive just a moment ago, but ever since he dodged Mahito's sudden knee strike, he hadn't been able to fire back a single counterattack.
Moreover, he felt a chilling sense of familiarity, as if—
"Ah, I get it now." Amidst the flurry of punches, Mahito suddenly spoke. He didn't seem burdened by the necessary breathing rhythm of a boxer, speaking casually.
"I see—so this is martial arts."
Awasaka was engulfed by a massive wave of terror. No wonder the incoming fists felt so familiar—this was the exact same sequence he had just used to attack Mahito! A torrential barrage mixed with sudden heavy blows. The only difference was that Awasaka almost never used kicks because they left too large of an opening. But Mahito was different; he seamlessly integrated both hands and feet, flawlessly executing wide, heavy strikes without hesitation.
Of course he didn't have to hesitate. His baseline physical durability was already leagues above Awasaka's. Even if he used wide, high-risk strikes, he didn't fear counterattacks because his monstrous reflexes were fast enough to cover any openings. Awasaka, however, was the exact opposite. If he dared to throw a heavy strike, the resulting opening would inevitably be caught by Mahito, resulting in an instant-kill via Idle Transfiguration!
Awasaka had been fighting Mahito for less than 5 minutes. Yet, in those 5 minutes, Mahito had completely mastered Awasaka's taijutsu, modifying it to perfectly match his own superior physical specs.
What terrifying learning capability!
"Ugh!" Awasaka focused intensely, ensuring he never touched Mahito's hands, opting to tank the kicks with his body. Though Mahito's kicks were devastatingly heavy, under the protection of 'Inverse', they were actually the least consequential threats.
Mahito attacked with reckless abandon. The roar of the crowd grew louder with every passing second, crashing down like a tidal wave.
Accompanied by the cheering, Mahito's combo grew faster and faster, his attack angles growing more and more familiar. Suddenly, Mahito vanished from Awasaka's sight. A pivot step!
Awasaka took a punch right to the side of his face. Just one punch.
Awasaka's vision abruptly turned black. He had gone blind. Idle Transfiguration!
In the original story, there was a specific detail: when Mahito fought Nanami for the first time, he clearly touched him, but Nanami didn't instantly turn into a transfigured human. This was because even if a Jujutsu Sorcerer didn't know how to consciously defend their soul, they would subconsciously protect it with Cursed Energy the moment hostile Cursed Energy made contact. This prevented Mahito from reshaping Nanami's soul on the first touch.
According to the original lore, it would take two or three touches to break through this defense.
But in a high-speed, split-second brawl, where was the time for two or three touches? If hit by a Black Flash, a fight could be decided in a single strike. Two or three touches was too long—long enough to dictate life or death!
Learning from this painful realization, Mahito modified how he applied Idle Transfiguration.
Instead of directly and violently mutating the soul, he constructed an isolating barrier between the soul and the flesh. This wasn't 'reshaping' the soul; on the contrary, an 'isolated' soul was technically harder to damage. For the soul, this acted as a protective layer.
Mahito managed to pull it off, though it was harder than he imagined. His method was akin to injecting a virus into the body that, instead of destroying tissue, disguised itself as an immune cell, working alongside the actual immune cells to quietly quarantine specific targets.
To the soul, this registered as protection. And since it was protection, it wouldn't trigger a subconscious Cursed Energy defense. Thus, he succeeded.
Awasaka didn't know exactly what had happened, but he guessed his soul had been tampered with the moment Mahito's hands touched him. He didn't know if the blindness was permanent or temporary, but for him, it made no difference.
Because in that brief moment of shock, the fight was already decided.
"First, vision," Mahito said.
"Hearing." "Smell." "Taste." "Touch."
By the fifth punch, Awasaka was plunged into absolute darkness. His five senses were completely sealed. Trapped in a massive void, he couldn't even feel his own limbs. It was as if he had been sunk into the deepest trench of the world's oceans, floating in endless black. A profound despair rapidly expanded in his mind before finally detonating.
He wanted to beg for mercy, but he didn't even know how to speak. He wanted to surrender, but he couldn't even command his arms to raise.
He had lost all basic human senses, left with nothing but the abyss for company. He couldn't escape; he could only sink. Endless sinking!
In the eyes of the audience, ever since taking that one punch, Awasaka had stood there like a wooden training dummy, taking a continuous beating from Mahito. Even though the first few punches hadn't caused any visible damage—the audience obviously didn't know Inverse was active—the subsequent punches dug deep into his flesh, beating Awasaka until he foamed at the mouth.
Mahito finished with a Shoryuken-style uppercut. Awasaka's feet left the floor, his head snapping back, his eyes rolling white. This wasn't him losing consciousness from brain trauma; he simply couldn't perceive the outside world anymore. In his sensory void, he couldn't even feel the concussion, as his sense of touch had been entirely erased.
The instant Awasaka was knocked into the air, Mahito viciously stomped his own foot down.
He twisted his body, spinning 360 degrees on the spot like a ballet dancer. His leg raised before the spin, and upon completing the rotation, he lashed out in the most aesthetically beautiful kick in all of martial arts—
"Finally, consciousness," he said.
—A spinning roundhouse kick! *BANG.*
Mahito's foot sank deep into Awasaka's abdomen. Completely stripped of his senses, Awasaka took the full brunt of the spinning kick. He flew backward through the air like a screaming artillery shell, smashing violently into the arena wall. This time, the force was entirely concentrated; Awasaka's body absorbed all the damage. He was practically embedded into the concrete, a massive spiderweb of cracks spreading outward from his cratered form. It took a full 3 seconds before his unconscious body finally peeled off the wall and hit the floor.
Eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, mind. The six roots of perception, severed completely!
"Who said—I can't channel my technique through my feet?" Mahito slowly lowered his leg, landing softly. *Thud.*
Awasaka slumped out of the crater, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
"T-The winner is—" The announcer snapped out of his daze, screaming at the top of his lungs: "The Fanatic! The Pure Evil! The man with ambitions to ascend the throne of God—!"
"MA—HI—TO!"
The audience erupted into a tsunami of cheers, as if threatening to tear the roof off the entire arena.