With a massive, deafening crash, the main gates of the Zen'in estate were blown apart. Amidst the howling wind and rain, a figure was hurled with tremendous force straight into the estate's reception hall.
Naoya Zen'in tumbled across the floor two or three times before finally coming to a halt. He gasped desperately for air. A gruesome wound slashed across his chest; the tip of Kirigiri hadn't cleaved him entirely in half, but rather traced across his sternum with the grotesque gentleness of a lover's caress. His heart was practically exposed, its frantic thumping echoing loudly in Naoya's own ears. Miraculously, he wasn't dead yet. He lifted his gaze toward the head seat, where the Head of the Zen'in Clan sat, looking down at him.
Naoya clutched his chest tightly, but the blood continued to aggressively spill between his fingers. The clan head's son spat out his final words: "Projection Sorcery... It's useless against him!"
The Clan Head rose from his seat and moved to Naoya's side. He extended a hand, gently covering Naoya's face, and took a deep breath.
The storm outside abruptly intensified. The reception hall groaned under the shifting pressure, and a peal of thunder ripped through the sky—as if some colossal, divine entity was descending upon them with the sheer weight of the heavens. Sure enough, footsteps echoed from beyond the broken threshold.
Mahito had bypassed every obstacle and marched straight into the very heart of the Zen'in clan. The Head of the Zen'in Clan was waiting for him.
The Clan Head pulled his hand away from Naoya's face. As he did, Naoya's wide, staring eyes slid shut. Exhaling slowly, the Clan Head stood up from his crouch and locked eyes with Mahito.
Despite having just slaughtered his way through the entire Zen'in estate, Mahito's clothing was immaculately clean. He walked in from the torrential rain, lightning flashing violently behind him. He carried the long-bladed greatsword in one hand. With every step, his wooden geta clacked sharply against the floor—a crisp, piercing sound that not even the rolling thunder could drown out.
Mahito tilted his head up. His heterochromatic eyes glowed quietly in the gloom, glaring like a vicious demon god. An overwhelming, suffocating pressure seeped directly into the Clan Head's mind. *This*—this was the Cursed Spirit that had eradicated the Zen'in clan.
"The legendary King of Cursed Spirits," the Clan Head murmured. "As expected. You live up to the name."
"I didn't expect my first compliment upon arriving at the Zen'in estate to come from its final, solitary survivor," Mahito replied.
The Clan Head's heart gave a slight throb. He wasn't the last of the Zen'in clan, of course. Down in the underground training grounds, the remaining elderly, weak, and young of the clan were still hiding. They were the seeds of the Zen'in. Even if they lost their status as one of the Big Three Sorcerer Families, as long as those people survived, the clan itself would endure. The rest would simply be a matter of finding a new patron and waiting for the right moment to rise again.
But a chilling thought struck him. Given the King of Cursed Spirits' currently absolute, peak condition and sensory perception, there was no way he didn't know about the masses huddled in the underground facility. Yet, Mahito explicitly stated that the Clan Head was the *last* survivor.
*Does a Cursed Spirit... actually possess a sense of mercy?* the Clan Head wondered with grim realization.
"It didn't have to be this way," Mahito said coolly. "My method of immortality isn't something I feel the need to hoard. In fact, I've openly explained the mechanics of it to others. I've been generously selling immortality."
"If the Zen'in clan had the desire, you could have simply sent a sorcerer to ask me about it. But you didn't. You insulted me."
"And I'm not naive enough to think you insulted me simply because I'm a Cursed Spirit. You've sat high and mighty for far too long—so long that you've forgotten how to feel awe. And so, I will be your executioner."
The Clan Head chewed on Mahito's words, finding himself completely unable to refute them. Just as Mahito said, this had nothing to do with whether he was a Cursed Spirit or not. Right at this very moment, there were Cursed Spirits locked up in the underground training grounds, specifically captured to let young sorcerers practice killing them.
Exploiting Cursed Spirits wasn't exactly a novel concept among the Big Three Families. Frankly, it was standard practice across the entire Jujutsu society.
If it wasn't an issue of him being a Curse, then what was it? It was a matter of *power*.
The Zen'in clan, resting on its laurels as one of the Big Three Families, possessed an inherent, bone-deep arrogance. They believed the world should revolve around them, and everyone else was obligated to obey their commands. Mahito was a Cursed Spirit, therefore they tried to command him. But if Mahito hadn't been a Cursed Spirit, would the Zen'in clan have acted any differently?
They had, quite literally, kicked an iron plate.
Compared to the Curse standing before him, the Zen'in clan behaved far more like mindless, rabid beasts. How laughable. How... utterly pathetic.
The Clan Head was wearing a light-colored haori over a dark kimono. He slipped the outer haori off and casually tossed it over Naoya, covering his son's corpse. He continued to walk forward, pulling one arm out of the wide kimono sleeve and letting it drape over his chest, leaving the right half of his upper body completely bare.
"My Cursed Technique is called Projection Sorcery," the Clan Head stated. *Revealing One's Hand!*
"Since you were born in the modern age, you likely know what a motion picture is. When a movie plays, the film reel rolls frame by frame. That is the fundamental principle of Projection Sorcery."
"When activated, I divide one second into twenty-four frames. Using my own field of vision as the angle of view, I trace a predetermined sequence of movements. These pre-planned movements cannot be altered halfway through. If I attempt to execute an action that excessively violates the laws of physics or standard trajectory, I will be 'frozen.'"
"Furthermore, anyone my palm touches while the technique is active must also abide by the rule of moving at 1/24th of a second. If they fail, their movements fall into disarray, and they are frozen in a frame for one second."
In the original timeline, this was exactly how Naoya Zen'in was defeated by the clan's exterminator. Naoya had touched his opponent while using Projection Sorcery, fully assuming the target would be frozen for one second. Believing his victory was assured, he dropped his guard. But the opponent was perfectly prepared, delivering a devastating counter-punch the exact instant they were touched. Unprepared for the retaliation, Naoya was taken out instantly.
The Clan Head took a massive stride, arriving in the center of the ruined reception hall. Though a middle-aged man, there were scarcely any wrinkles on his face. His white hair was slicked back sharply, complementing his narrow eyebrows and a dapper, upturned English-style mustache.
"Well done, Cursed Spirit. You've shocked the Zen'in clan awake. I once heard someone say that ignorance is never an obstacle to survival—arrogance is. Never before have I understood that phrase so viscerally," the Clan Head roared, his voice booming like thunder.
He had finally completed his preparations.
Half-stripped of his kimono, his muscular physique was displayed in striking detail, the fibers and sinews looking as though they had been chiseled from stone.
He styled himself with slicked-back hair and a quirky mustache, totally lacking the traditional look of a samurai. Yet, in this exact moment, he embodied the spirit of a warrior far more than anyone else in the Zen'in clan. Normally, he was a laid-back, drunken old man with no sense of decorum, but faced with total annihilation, he rose with an overwhelming, crushing aura. The weight of his entire clan's death rested squarely on his shoulders.
Mahito smiled. "I thought you would be angrier. Because I murdered the Zen'in clan."
"It seems you still don't understand Jujutsu Sorcerers," the Clan Head replied.
"I'm all ears."
"A sorcerer's Cursed Energy stems from negative emotions. Our negative emotions are refined through the Cursed Energy Core and flow into every limb and bone of our bodies."
"The more exceptional a Jujutsu Sorcerer is, the more they can extract a massive volume of Cursed Energy from their negative emotions. This Cursed Energy is one with us. The angrier we are, the more terrified we are, the more crushing the pressure we bear—the stronger the Jujutsu Sorcerer becomes. The more... invincible!"
The Clan Head's voice started out as calm as a placid lake, but as he explained, his volume steadily amplified until it erupted like a thunderclap right next to Mahito's ears!
"Cursed Spirit, do you think I'm calm right now?"
"No, I am more furious and more terrified than I have ever been in my entire life!"
"I am enraged that you butchered my people, that you tore my family to bloody pieces, that you tossed my son's mutilated corpse right at my feet!"
"And at the same time, I am terrified. I am terrified of what will become of the Zen'in clan's future if I die. I am terrified of how the other Big Three Families will treat the Zen'in clan now that our elite sorcerer battalion is gone. And I am most terrified that, after my death, the Zen'in clan will never reclaim the prestige it holds today."
"But listen to me carefully, Curse."
"A Jujutsu Sorcerer is a creature capable of harnessing that very wrath and terror!"
"To weaponize that rage and fear into physical, destructive Cursed Energy—*that* is a Jujutsu Sorcerer!"
The Clan Head thrust a fist forward, pointing it directly at Mahito. Even while boiling with absolute, seething fury, the corners of his mouth twitched up into a wild grin. His voice dropped from a frenzied roar back to an icy, articulate calm, pronouncing every syllable with lethal intent:
"Head of the Zen'in Clan. Naobito Zen'in. Now entering the fray—!!!"
Outside, a deafening crack of thunder shattered the sky, and for a fraction of a second, the night flashed as bright as high noon. The lightning strike carried a concussive shockwave that illuminated heaven and earth.
Projection Sorcery!
Without a microsecond of hesitation, Naobito activated his technique. His time within this single second was sliced into 24 distinct actions. He launched off his back foot, stepped, and sprinted—one movement after another compressed into an integrated sequence of high-speed frames.
Mahito's sensory perception was dialed to its absolute maximum. He could clearly see Naobito's movements. It wasn't a standard, fluid running motion; it was 24 isolated, sequential poses, as if the entire world's framerate had dropped, projecting frame after frame directly into Mahito's vision.
Mahito gripped Kirigiri with both hands, predicting how Naobito would attack.
Naoya Zen'in's technique was identical to Naobito's, but there was a vast, fatal gap in their mastery. Naoya placed blind faith in his technique; he subconsciously believed that as long as he simply touched Mahito, Mahito would freeze, leaving him open to a free barrage of attacks. But Naobito Zen'in would never make such an amateur mistake.
*If Naoya died because of his arrogant confidence, then Naobito, what is your answer?*
Naobito's answer was a—FRONTAL! ASSAULT!
Mahito's pupils dilated. Because Projection Sorcery requires pre-planning a trajectory, a sorcerer must always account for a target's counterattack during the preset phase. Committing to a direct, frontal charge is the most idiotic choice possible, because it places the user perfectly in the strike zone for a counter. How could Naobito dare to do this?!
Without hesitating, Mahito swung Kirigiri in a massive diagonal slash. Kirigiri was a huge, long-bladed sword; combined with Mahito's reach, its attack radius exceeded three meters. This sweeping diagonal cut covered the entire frontal airspace. Naobito had no choice but to crash directly into the blade. Given Kirigiri's supernatural sharpness, it would slice Naobito in half as effortlessly as a hot knife through butter...
...Or would it?
A smear of pitch-black engulfed Naobito's fist. —BLACK! FLASH!
Setting a frontal charge as a pre-planned movement was indeed an idiotic move. But what if that frontal charge carried the devastating payload of a Black Flash? Was it still idiotic then?
Naobito Zen'in answered with extreme, physical violence.
The Black Flash violently smashed into Kirigiri. The blade, reputed to sever all creation, shrieked in agony. The Cleaving Line couldn't even engrave itself onto the Black Flash, because Naobito hadn't punched the cutting edge—he struck the flat of the blade. He had perfectly predicted Mahito's swing trajectory!
Mahito instantly realized it: he had been played!
Before this, Naobito had learned from Naoya that Projection Sorcery's freezing effect didn't work on Mahito. Naobito had analytically deduced *why* it was ineffective: a movement of 24 frames per second had to be visible to Mahito's naked eye. With Mahito's current, evolved state, he could accurately track Naobito's kinetic trajectory.
Seeing 24 frames in a single second with the naked eye? Was that even possible? While common sense screamed it was absurd, there were actually people in this world capable of it—and more than one. Toji Fushiguro, the outcast of the clan, and Satoru Gojo, the strongest of the modern era, both possessed that capability.
So, it wasn't much of a stretch to assume Mahito could do it too!
Therefore, any attempt to flank or circle Mahito was utterly pointless. Mahito wouldn't even need to predict the god-speed movements; he could simply track Naobito with his eyes, raise Kirigiri, and wait for Naobito to impale himself on it.
So... the solution was simply not to flank him.
It wasn't that he *wanted* to use a frontal assault; it was that he *had* to use a frontal assault. That was Naobito's true strategy.
Knowing that a frontal assault was guaranteed, what would Mahito, wielding the all-severing Kirigiri, choose to do?
A massive diagonal slash that covered the entire frontal spatial plane was the only optimal solution! It locked down the airspace above, below, and directly in front.
Naobito had pre-planned his movements betting his life that Mahito would choose that exact optimal solution. If Mahito had opted for anything else—a horizontal sweep that left the upper and lower angles open, or a swift, piercing thrust—Naobito, rushing straight into the blade, would have died instantly.
But Mahito chose the massive diagonal slash. The optimal solution!
Naobito's blood was boiling, roaring through his veins like liquid fire. It wasn't just the thrill of a successful prediction. He thought of his dead clansmen. He thought of the Zen'in clan's arrogance. He thought of the clan's inevitable ruin if he failed. He thought of it all.
And finally, he transmuted all of that wrath and terror, that arrogance and fear of the unknown, entirely into Cursed Energy.
Synchronization. And then, a punch. The black sparks scattered!
Out of the corner of his eye, Mahito saw sprawling cracks spiderweb across Kirigiri. The ancient cursed tool, inhabited by a vengeful spirit, sustained catastrophic damage from taking a Black Flash directly to its broadside. Mahito decisively let go. Kirigiri let out a wail of indignation and was sent flying by the sheer concussive shockwave.
The unexpected Black Flash had swatted the blade away, allowing Naobito to finally slip into Mahito's inner guard. Naobito's fist was clenched tight, his entire body wound like a high-tension spring. He was flexing so intensely that every muscle fiber twitched and spasmed, and the veins on his forehead pulsed wildly. His entire form was packed with explosive, kinetic mass.
Mahito immediately triggered Soul Creation. —Jiro Awasaka, Inverse!
The very next fraction of a second, Naobito's fist buried itself deep into Mahito's abdomen.
As long as it wasn't a Black Flash, even a fully charged heavy punch wouldn't leave a scratch on him. Then, in that vulnerable window, Mahito would instantly execute Naobito, just as he had killed Jinichi Zen'in.
But that fist... was draped in flickering black flames.
—Black Flash! A second consecutive Black Flash!
With a deafening, explosive boom, Inverse was effortlessly blown apart. Mahito's abdominal cavity was completely blasted open, a gaping crater hollowed out of his torso. Yet, the overwhelming kinetic energy hadn't finished venting. The devastating force punched straight through his abdomen and radially expanded outward. Mahito's body reacted as if a peasant in cloth armor had taken a direct hit from a high-caliber artillery shell.
As his torso was blown open, he was launched backward. The venting of the destructive force generated a massive shockwave, sweeping Mahito away like a dead leaf caught in a hurricane.
The lethality of a Black Flash scales with the sorcerer's raw power. In terms of pure physical force, even as the Clan Head, Naobito was far inferior to the Special Grade 1 Sorcerer, Jinichi Zen'in. Jinichi's Black Flash could have vaporized Mahito's flesh into a red mist, but Naobito couldn't manage that.
Mid-air, Mahito desperately tried to invoke Soul Creation again. He had just been struck by Naobito, meaning his body was now marked with Naobito's Cursed Energy. If he could activate Love Rendezvous right now, he could instantly repel Naobito via magnetic repulsion.
But another fist materialized right in front of his eyes.
Naobito had already caught up to Mahito's violently airborne body. His speed had now vastly broken the sound barrier. His eyes glinted with freezing, absolute lethal intent, while his heart roared like an erupting volcano. He focused every ounce of his immense power into his fist—
—And black flames erupted for a third time.
The third consecutive Black Flash. *THOOM!*
Naobito's fist slammed into the side of Mahito's head. The spatial distortion carried by the Black Flash instantly shredded Mahito's face. Bone and flesh were simultaneously pulverized by the jagged black lightning, completely obliterating half of Mahito's head into a gory mess.
*Too fast!* It was so fast that Mahito had absolutely zero window to retaliate. This velocity was entirely beyond Mahito's calculations. Was Naobito Zen'in really this powerful? Mahito channeled all of his extracted Cursed Energy into Idle Transfiguration. Throughout this battle, he had evolved multiple times, and his mastery of Idle Transfiguration had reached unprecedented heights. Yet right now, his healing couldn't even keep pace with the rate of destruction.
*Too slow!* The speed at which his Cursed Energy circulated was failing to keep up with this final, terminal clash!
Mahito abandoned his attempt to use Soul Creation. He had to pour everything into Idle Transfiguration just to maintain the structural integrity of his soul, forcing his flesh to rapidly regenerate. He acutely felt the sluggishness of this physical vessel. His Idle Transfiguration was perfectly synchronized with his soul; not even the disruptive Cursed Energy of a Black Flash could interrupt its activation.
In fact, in the original timeline, Mahito had never feared a Black Flash. He had eaten consecutive Black Flashes and still managed to keep his body remarkably intact; as long as he could continuously run Idle Transfiguration to maintain his soul's shape, physical damage from a Black Flash was functionally irrelevant.
In terms of pure resistance to it, he was even hardier than Satoru Gojo and Ryomen Sukuna! In the final battles of the original timeline, even Gojo and Sukuna suffered severe physiological aftereffects after taking a Black Flash.
But the Cursed Technique Reversal, 'Soul Creation'—derived from the 'negative times negative equals positive' loophole of being a Half-Cursed Spirit—was acting as a fatal bottleneck.
Even though Soul Creation had been running smoother and smoother during his fights with the Kukuru Unit and the Hei, with barely any lag, compared to his flawlessly synchronized Idle Transfiguration, it was pathetically slow right now.
Mahito instantly realized it. The time had come.
*To discard this ill-fitting vessel, to construct a perfectly adapted body, to transcend common sense and achieve true rebirth—the moment is now!*
Naobito's face suddenly loomed directly in front of Mahito. The man was practically cloaked in radiating Cursed Energy, looking as though he wore a suit of blazing, ethereal armor. He stepped forward, spread his fingers, slammed his palm down directly over Mahito's mangled face, and brutally crushed him downward!
*BOOM!*
The fourth consecutive Black Flash!
Grade 1 Sorcerer Kento Nanami once said:
*"Using Black Flash consecutively isn't that amazing of a feat. If you manage to use it more than twice, the difficulty actually lies in NOT using it consecutively, or not using it again that same day."*
*"Whether the first Black Flash is born from luck or skill, once triggered, the sorcerer temporarily enters a state athletes refer to as 'The Zone'. The Cursed Energy that normally requires conscious, meticulous control begins to flow as naturally as breathing. It feels as if everything in the surrounding environment is rotating with you at the center, inducing a sensation approaching omnipotence."*
In other words, once a sorcerer lands two or more Black Flashes in a row, every subsequent strike practically guarantees a Black Flash. The only limiting factor, aside from total Cursed Energy reserves, is one thing—
—How much of a beating the target can take!
The entire corridor began to collapse. The sheer destructive kinetic force caused the ground to cave in completely. The expanding shockwave physically lifted the remnants of the Zen'in estate into the air. The walkways disintegrated, and half the reception hall sank into the earth. Under that singular, apocalyptic strike, the Zen'in estate was reduced to total rubble. Thunder cracked again through the torrential rain, the lightning illuminating Naobito's ferociously contorted face.
"What's wrong, King of Cursed Spirits?!" Naobito roared mockingly. "Weren't you going to be the Zen'in clan's executioner?! Get up! We aren't finished!"
Naobito was certain Mahito wasn't dead. Having observed the entire massacre through his Shikigami's eyes, he knew perfectly well that Mahito possessed near-immortality. Even reduced to bloody paste, he could fully regenerate. In Naobito's eyes, there was only one way to permanently kill him—
—Bleed his reserves dry!
Immortal body or not, his Cursed Energy reserves had a ceiling. Healing the massive trauma inflicted by a Black Flash required an exorbitant amount of Cursed Energy. Regardless of the exact mechanics of Mahito's resurrection technique, the foundational laws of Jujutsu still applied. A luxury sports car can't run without gas. No matter how terrifying Mahito's regeneration was, once his Cursed Energy hit zero, he would die!
True invincibility didn't exist. A thousand years ago, the supposedly immortal Yamata no Orochi was still slaughtered by the legendary Ryomen Sukuna. There is no such thing as an unbeatable Cursed Technique in this world. If he couldn't figure out the mechanics in a short timeframe, then he wouldn't bother trying to understand them. He would use absolute, overwhelming violence! He would break it by force!
If one Black Flash couldn't kill him, he'd use ten! If ten didn't work, he'd use a hundred!
The current modern record holder for consecutive Black Flashes was Kento Nanami, who had landed four in a single engagement. Right now, Naobito Zen'in was going to challenge that record. The true limit to his consecutive strikes wouldn't depend on Naobito himself, but on this King of Cursed Spirits—on exactly how many hits he could endure!
In reality, his tactical assessment was flawlessly accurate. How did Mahito die in the original timeline? He died because his Cursed Energy was completely exhausted! Even a second before he was absorbed by Kenjaku at the very end, his physical body was functionally intact. Aside from running out of Cursed Energy, he bore no lasting physical injuries.
Suddenly, a low, muffled voice reverberated from deep beneath the earth. "As you wish."
Naobito acutely sensed the ground vibrating. It wasn't the violent, concussive trembling of a heavy impact, but rather a rolling, undulating tremor, like waves rolling across the surface of an ocean. It felt as though a massive leviathan was swimming just beneath the surface, causing the earth itself to ripple. The solid ground was currently undulating like water.
*But how is that possible? How can the earth ripple like a body of water?*
A colossal, god-like organism shattered the bindings of the earth and erupted into the sky. Naobito leaped back from his position, tilting his head up to behold the creature. His ferocious, bloodthirsty expression bled into sheer, unadulterated shock. An entity entirely beyond human comprehension loomed before him.
The terrain was fractured by massive, sprawling fissures. Rising from the grandest chasm stood a giant. It was a dragon. Its massive draconic head sported eyes that burned—one gold, one blue—gazing down at Naobito. Its claws flexed in the air, the five talons looking aggressively sharp as the rain washed over them. Sweeping fields of scales rose and fell rhythmically, as if the creature was breathing through its armor. The lower half of the leviathan was still buried deep in the abyss, while its upper half seemed to pierce the heavens, blotting out the sky.
—Maximum: Advent.
The myth descends, the divine dragon manifests!
Naobito forcefully commanded the corners of his mouth to turn up, flashing a wild grin.
"Excellent. Now this is a real rush," he declared.
The next instant, a dragon's claw plummeted from the heavens!