"Ladies and gentlemen!" Mahito suddenly threw his arms wide, his voice brimming with unbridled passion. "The final hour is finally upon us! Every Jujutsu Sorcerer alive should know exactly what this moment signifies—that's right! The legendary 'Finite Infinity' wish is about to be realized right here, right now! The time is exactly 12:00 AM, December 31, 2018."
Mahito was currently dressed in a woven hat, a haori, a kimono, and wooden geta sandals. Even though they were standing on a desert of pristine white sand, he didn't seem to care in the slightest. This master swordsman's attire should have exuded a solemn, dignified aura. Yet, the moment Mahito opened his mouth, that solemnity was completely obliterated. It was as if they were standing on the stage of a cheap comedy club.
Mahito suddenly bowed deeply, mimicking the exaggerated posture of an awards show host. After bowing, he swept a hand out to introduce the figures standing behind him.
Keeping his head lowered and his back bent, he announced, "Representing Tokyo No. 1 Colony: The man hailed as the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer in history, the King of Curses—Ryomen Sukuna!"
"Representing Tokyo No. 2 Colony: The hyper-lethal Special Grade Curse User who orchestrated the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons and nearly caused the mass extinction of all non-sorcerers in Japan! The once-in-a-millennium wielder of Cursed Spirit Manipulation—Suguru Geto!"
"Representing the Sendai Colony: The boy who averted that very extinction! The savior of the mundane world, the prodigy who skyrocketed from Grade 4 to Special Grade in a mere three months—Yuta Okkotsu!"
"And finally—"
Mahito straightened up. His tone had already been manic, but now, his fanaticism dialed up to an entirely new extreme. Like the most utterly deranged, obsessive fanboy, he threw both hands toward the heavens and roared at the top of his lungs:
"The second sorcerer in jujutsu history to inherit both the Six Eyes and the Limitless! The man whose very birth shattered the balance of the world and triggered an explosive surge in Cursed Spirits! The peerless, invincible pinnacle of the modern era..."
Mahito took a massive breath and screamed, "SA! TO! RU! GO! JO!!!"
The three previously introduced men stood frozen in place, utterly speechless.
It was entirely understandable. They had all anticipated plummeting instantly into the most catastrophic, apocalyptic battle of their lives. Every single one of them had mentally prepared themselves for the absolute worst, bracing to be ambushed the millisecond the teleportation completed. They had honed their physical and mental states to the absolute bleeding edge.
And instead, they were immediately broadsided by Mahito's gameshow-host introduction. Even blood-soaked veterans like them were left completely dumbfounded...
—Except for Satoru Gojo!
Gojo, who lived for the spotlight, immediately waved excitedly at Mahito, letting out a bright, booming laugh. "Hahaha! To receive such glowing praise from the one and only Lord of Cursed Spirits—the Curse capable of granting eternal life and resurrection, the anomaly who forced the entire jujutsu world to its knees single-handedly, His Excellency Mahito, the candidate for the throne of God! The honor is entirely mine!"
Mahito's brow instantly twitched. "My, my. You're supposedly praising me, but why does it sound so incredibly passive-aggressive?"
Despite wearing his monk's Kesa, Gojo dramatically swayed his hips. "Ohoho, how could you say that? My profound respect for you is practically spilling out of my Six Eyes! It's as glaring as the sun in the sky!"
"You definitely are mocking me, aren't you?!" Mahito snapped, glaring.
"Not at all! I'm just returning the energy you gave me!" Gojo smirked.
The two of them suddenly rushed toward each other. With perfect, unspoken synchronization, they raised their arms and—*SMACK!*—aggressively high-fived.
Ryomen Sukuna, Yuta Okkotsu, and Suguru Geto watched the two of them with dead, soulless eyes.
Gojo leaned in and whispered, "You're not broadcasting this live right now, are you?"
Mahito whispered back, "Bingo! And not just here in Japan. You've heard that Tengen set up the Great American Barrier, right? It's broadcasting live all across the United States, too."
Gojo's face paled in exaggerated horror. "What?! I thought this was just a private joke! I was just playing along so you wouldn't look like an idiot alone! Are you telling me you're not just embarrassing us in front of all of Japan, but you're broadcasting this humiliation to America too?!"
Gojo pointed an accusatory finger at him. "This is a massive diplomatic incident!"
Mahito laughed cheerfully. "To hell with diplomacy!"
Gojo blinked.
Suddenly, Mahito's voice boomed across the desert. The playful, casual tone vanished in an instant, replaced by a crushing, absolute solemnity.
"This is the final battlefield of the Dream Migration. Without a doubt, every Jujutsu Sorcerer standing here is among the four strongest beings on this planet. Normally, we are willing to abide by the moral constraints of the mundane world. But if anyone attempts to bind us with secular laws or morality... you had best pray your nations can withstand the unbridled fury of a Special Grade Sorcerer... That is exactly why I am broadcasting this live."
The man who had just been joking around straightened his spine. Without a sound, his Cursed Energy flared, igniting the air around him and amplifying his voice until it rolled like divine thunder.
"Jujutsu Sorcerers are born from mundane humans. Mundane humans can evolve into true Jujutsu Sorcerers through the Dream Migration. From this exact moment forward, supernatural forces will frequently and violently erupt around every single one of you. It does not matter if you are a minimum-wage worker, a corporate executive, a government politician, ancient nobility, or newly minted wealth. Regardless of your position in mundane society, you must all acknowledge one absolute truth."
"From this day forward, supernatural power will accompany you for the rest of your lives!"
Mahito raised his hand and tipped his woven hat upward, revealing the upper half of his face that had been hidden in shadow. His heterochromatic eyes glowed faintly. It felt as if a divine, terrifying gaze was suddenly fixated upon the myriad phenomena of the universe. Even though they weren't the direct targets of that gaze, the four men present—including Satoru Gojo—felt a massive, suffocating pressure bear down on their chests.
"I'll spell it out clearly. Starting right now, whether you welcome it or despise it, Jujutsu Sorcerers will walk among you! Previously, this was isolated to Japan. From now on, America will experience it. And as time marches forward, Great Barriers will be erected in other nations, eventually linking together to form a true, planetary-scale Great Barrier."
"The existence of Jujutsu Sorcerers will be fully public. The existence of Cursed Spirits will experience a catastrophic global surge. Every nation will gain access to this power—a power they previously could only glimpse in fairytales and myths."
"If you do not wish to be left behind, your only choice is to embrace this future."
"And as for those who still cling to the delusion that steel and gunpowder can rival the absolute apex of the supernatural... you will find your answer in the battle today."
Mahito smiled. It wasn't his usual, carefree grin. It was the smile of a ravenous beast locking eyes with its prey—a smile dripping with cold, unadulterated cruelty.
He declared, "I am officially notifying the world:"
"The storm has already begun. It will sweep across this entire planet. There is no escape. There is no stopping it!"
Gojo instantly understood. Mahito wasn't just indulging his own whims by live-streaming this. He was dead serious. And his target wasn't the four combatants standing in the final arena; his target was the audience. It was every Jujutsu Sorcerer watching in Japan, every person in power in America, and every single human being who would eventually learn of this broadcast.
He was declaring that the world was about to undergo a violent, irreversible fusion with the supernatural.
He was warning them that the explosive proliferation of Jujutsu Sorcerers would force the world to fundamentally restructure itself.
And he was watching, with cold detachment, to see how sorcerers and mundane humans would view each other in this chaotic new future.
With that single declaration, the masquerade protecting the jujutsu world was permanently, irreparably shattered. Gojo could easily envision the sheer, unmitigated chaos that would engulf the world once this truth spread.
Gojo realized that Mahito was genuinely and meticulously preparing to rule this planet from the throne of 'God'.
The playful smile on Gojo's face slowly faded.
Though he maintained a semblance of a smile, it warped into a cold sneer. "You're awfully confident, Mahito. The battle hasn't even begun, yet you act as if you're already seated upon the divine throne. Are you perhaps looking down on me a little too much? Don't forget, just a few months ago, I nearly killed you."
"I don't believe for a second that you are unaware of 'Fate'." Mahito looked Gojo dead in the eye. "You have already lost, Satoru. I am willing to offer you one final chance. Kneel before me right now, and I will wipe the slate clean. I will forgive everything."
The words carried a sting of profound humiliation, but when Gojo scrutinized Mahito's expression, he found the Curse to be completely serious.
Gojo knew this was the final olive branch Mahito would extend. Because this was a live broadcast, every single move he made was being scrutinized by the world. If Gojo truly surrendered right now, Mahito would genuinely spare him.
This was Mahito's apotheosis. He wouldn't make a joke like this here.
*This isn't the first time,* Gojo thought. *Ever since I learned the truth about this ascension ritual, almost everyone has been intentionally or unintentionally trying to talk me out of this. My best friend, Suguru, explicitly told me to give up that night.*
And now, even the final boss, Mahito, was willing to let him walk away. Surrendering right now was undeniably the smartest, safest move, right?
Gojo finalized his decision. Every trace of a smile vanished from his face.
"I thought we were, at the very least, friends," Gojo said.
"We are. I consider you a friend," Mahito nodded.
"In that case..." Gojo spoke with absolute calm. "Why are you insulting me?"
Mahito didn't respond. He simply stared at Gojo. Standing there in his Five-Strip Kesa, gripping his monk's staff, his blindfold discarded long ago, Gojo looked like a high priest radiating indomitable spirit. There wasn't a single shred of fear in his heart.
*He's throwing his life away,* Mahito concluded. And then, Mahito smiled.
*In the past,* Mahito thought, *even though I admired Satoru Gojo, my bloodlust toward him only grew stronger with each passing day. I absolutely did not want him alive. I knew perfectly well the sheer magnitude of his influence on this world. He would obstruct my rule over this planet, and he would never submit to my commands. Therefore, no matter how much I admired him, I was fully prepared to slaughter him without mercy.*
*So why, in this final moment, did I try to convince him to live?*
The answer was actually quite simple. The old Mahito was roughly equal in strength to Gojo, perhaps even slightly weaker. From any logical standpoint, the old Mahito *had* to kill Gojo to secure his future.
But things were different now.
Because his ascension to godhood had already been written into 'Fate'. Viewing Satoru Gojo through the eyes of a god, Mahito could finally appreciate all of his virtues. Gojo wielded absolute power, yet he always operated within a framework of rules. He possessed unimaginable influence, yet his own internal compass of fairness and morality prevented him from abusing it.
He possessed the potential to overthrow a god's rule, yes. But if that god's rule actually brought hope and stability, Gojo would immediately hesitate. Amidst that hesitation, if he determined that the god's rule was ultimately beneficial for humanity, he might even unwittingly become a guardian of that very system.
Satoru Gojo's only flaw was his atrocious personality. Conversely, when it came to anything unrelated to his personality... he was utterly flawless. Including his profound sense of morality!
The shift in power and perspective made Mahito genuinely pity Satoru Gojo.
Acknowledging his own true feelings, Mahito apologized to Gojo. "I'm sorry. I underestimated you."
A fierce, brilliant smile flared back to life on Gojo's face. "Now *that's* more like—"
Suddenly, an ear-splitting screech of friction tore through the air directly behind Gojo. And then, a thunderous boom. A colossal invisible slash slammed violently into the back of Gojo's Kesa.
Gojo slowly turned his head.
Ryomen Sukuna let out a bored yawn. "Are you two done babbling? I thought we were here to crack some skulls."
The fleeting sense of mutual understanding and the faint spark of emotion Gojo had just felt were instantly vaporized by the slash. He took a deep breath, turned back to Mahito, and forced a painfully polite smile onto his face.
"Excuse me. Could you give me just a moment?"
Mahito extended a hand in a gesture of invitation. "Be my guest."
In the next millisecond, Satoru Gojo vanished.
At the absolute last possible fraction of a second, Sukuna reacted, crossing all four of his arms in a defensive block. The heavy head of a monk's staff slammed into his forearms. Like a cannonball fired point-blank, Sukuna was violently launched backward, the sheer concussive force of the impact triggering a series of visible sonic booms in the air.
Mahito let out an impressed whistle and turned his attention to the remaining two combatants.
Like a seasoned martial arts grandmaster, he raised his hand and crooked his fingers inward.
"Come. While Satoru is busy dealing with Sukuna, I'll play with you two for a bit."
Yuta Okkotsu prepared to step forward, but Suguru Geto stopped him.
Geto took the lead, stepping forward. He was still wearing his own medium Kesa. The shadow beneath his feet suddenly rippled and expanded outward like flowing water. Then, massive, grotesque Cursed Spirits began bubbling up from the darkness. One after another, within mere seconds, over fifty Special Grade Curses materialized behind Geto, forming a terrifying legion.
He raised one hand in a single-handed Buddhist salute.
"Special Grade Curse User. Suguru Geto."
"—Let us begin!"
*Snap!*
Mahito snapped his fingers. His shadow suddenly elongated. A pair of rabbit ears breached the surface of the darkness, followed quickly by the face of a young girl, then her neck, and her body. A rabbit-eared girl dressed in a maid outfit rose entirely from Mahito's shadow. She snapped her eyes open, revealing heterochromatic irises identical to Mahito's.
She bowed gracefully, reaching back into the shadow and drawing a massive, unusually straight-bladed katana.
[Mirokuji Kirigiri]!
"Getting used to it, Kirigiri?" Mahito asked. The rabbit-eared girl gave a slight nod.
She took a step forward, drawing [Mirokuji Kirigiri] from its scabbard with a sharp, resonant *shing*. The blade caught the moonlight, flashing a brilliant, lethal silver.
The rabbit-eared girl finally spoke:
"Serving Mahito. Ancient Katana Tsukumogami."
"Mirokuji Kirigiri."
"—Let us begin!"