August, 2007.
Scorching sun. Cicadas droning.
Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High School.
Ever since surviving the life-and-death battle against Toji and stepping further into the ranks of the strongest, Satoru Gojo…
It seemed as though the cursed spirits of this world had begun evolving into something even more terrifying.
Satoru Gojo. Suguru Geto. Shoko Ieiri.
For the three of them to sit at the same table now was already a rare occasion.
Gojo and Geto were either exorcising cursed spirits—
—or rushing off on their way to exorcise cursed spirits.
As for Shoko, treasured by the higher-ups of the school, she naturally had no need to fight on the front lines.
Her extraordinary talent of applying Reverse Cursed Technique to others was something even the current Gojo could not accomplish.
"Hey, aren't you even a little interested in that ten-year-old Zenin clan head?"
Shoko asked around her lollipop, glancing at the man floating cross-legged in midair.
"That kid's bounty on the black market is already several times yours."
"Hm?"
Gojo paused briefly at her sudden curiosity before answering honestly.
"Interested… maybe a little."
"Mostly because the brat's been holed up inside the Zenin estate and hasn't shown his face outside."
"As for that sky-high bounty…"
He twirled the straw in his drink, tone faintly amused.
"A full one billion yen. There's definitely another clan's hand behind that."
"But…"
He turned to Shoko, looking suspicious.
"Why are you suddenly interested in that kid?"
He stared at her in exaggerated shock.
"Shoko, don't tell me you've awakened some kind of… special taste?"
"Seriously?"
"He's only eleven!"
Gojo dramatically raised both hands and pointed at her.
He nodded thoughtfully.
"No wonder you won't confess to the two handsome guys right next to you. So you're into the loli type, huh~"
Shoko rolled her eyes so hard they nearly flipped over.
"Scum."
While Gojo immersed himself in the fine control of his cursed energy, and for some unknown reason Geto grew quieter by the day—dark circles under his eyes becoming more pronounced—
Shoko, acting as the balance between the two strongest, had deliberately brought up the topic to break the heavy atmosphere.
After all, the time the three of them could gather together was becoming increasingly rare…
And Zenin Mirai, who had become the Zenin clan head at just ten years old, remained a hot topic in the jujutsu world even after half a year.
Whether it was his age—
—or the black-market bounty that continued to rise day after day.
"Geto, haven't you gotten way too thin lately?"
After teasing Shoko, Gojo was about to show concern for his other best friend—
But the sudden ringing of his phone cut the conversation short.
"Moshi moshi~"
After hanging up, Gojo waved at them with a grin.
"Got a mission. Let's hang out next time."
With that—
He adjusted his sunglasses and left them with an easygoing silhouette.
Leaning against the wall of the teaching building, avoiding the sunlight and standing within the shade, Geto slowly raised his head.
Cursed spirits were like maggots—
Endless.
Exorcise. Absorb. Exorcise… absorb.
An endless cycle.
The taste of cursed spirits was like a rag used to wipe up vomit.
Nearly impossible to swallow.
Watching Gojo's departing back, a complicated expression flickered across Geto's face.
Once, we were "the strongest."
Now…
Gojo alone was the strongest.
The confusion in Geto's heart deepened further.
Zenin Estate — In Front of the Taboo Vault
Maki Zenin and Mai Zenin carried two boxed meals as they stepped into the darkness beyond the gate.
Hearing the constant howls echoing from the depths, Mai timidly edged closer to her sister's back.
"It's been over half a year. You're still not used to it?"
Maki tilted her head and asked helplessly.
For more than half a year, the nominal Zenin clan head, Mirai, had almost exclusively remained in the depths of the Taboo Vault.
Delivering his meals had been forcibly arranged by their mother.
Born into the Zenin clan, the prematurely mature sisters understood their mother's intentions.
So they always timed their deliveries carefully—bringing food when Mirai was deeply immersed in his activities.
"A Grade 2 sorcerer, and you only captured one Grade 2 cursed spirit alive."
"We didn't expect you to capture one above your level. But you can't even catch several at your own grade?"
The sisters had just stepped into the underground entrance where cursed spirits were sealed when a cold voice drifted upward.
"Clan Head, I—"
A voice filled with fear and panic had barely begun before it was abruptly cut off.
Sensing outsiders, the two girls froze, then lightened their footsteps and cautiously descended.
Aside from their mother—and this half-brother—
They were not welcomed by anyone in the Zenin clan.
After a moment in darkness, they saw the full view of the underground chamber.
Their pupils shrank sharply.
In Maki's eyes, the elite unit of clan sorcerers known as the "Hei" stood lined up.
Each of them kept their hands behind their backs, heads lowered, expressions respectful yet tinged with fear.
Gone was their usual arrogance within the clan. At this moment, they were no different from servants being punished.
And lying in a pool of blood—
A corpse severed into two pieces.
Maki recognized him from the training grounds.
A Grade 2 sorcerer of the clan.
Looking at Mirai, standing expressionless within the spreading blood, Maki was reminded of that night half a year ago.
She felt a tug from behind. Turning back, she saw Mai trembling with her head lowered, pale fingers clutching tightly at her clothes.
As if realizing something, Maki gently set down the meal boxes and pulled her frightened sister into her arms.
It wasn't that Mai was cowardly.
She could see what Maki could not—
Cursed spirits littering the ground.
Brains. Organs. Arms. Lower legs.
Grotesque faces. Twisted forms.
Remnants of cursed spirits stuffed throughout the underground chamber.
From Mai's perspective, the wide basement was crammed full—
Like hell itself.
And in the eyes of the lined-up sorcerers, the scene was no different.
No one felt injustice for their fallen comrade.
In these past six months, they had come to understand the new clan head's temperament.
Fail the task — die.
Bad mood — crippled.
Resist or attempt escape — a fate worse than death.
Space tore open at Mirai's shoulder.
A pair of withered, giant hands gathered the cursed spirit remains from the ground and drew them into the void.
Moments later, two dried fingernails pierced through space once more, impaling the sorcerer's corpse at Mirai's feet and dragging it away.
The now-empty chamber echoed with chewing sounds from beside Mirai.
Shrill. Disturbing.
Even the row of disciplined sorcerers couldn't help but shiver at the sound.
Maki couldn't hear it—
But she could see the corpse vanish instantly.
"My pet not only likes cursed spirits."
Mirai's icy gaze swept across the sorcerers.
"It also quite enjoys sorcerers with strong cursed energy."
"Next time, if the numbers aren't enough, your flesh will do."
There were Grade 1 sorcerers among them.
Yet under the boy's emotionless eyes, each lowered their head in fear, not daring to argue.
"Get out."
"A bunch of trash. Don't ruin my appetite."
His cold rebuke sounded to them like heavenly music.
Suppressing the joy rising in their hearts, they retreated carefully—as if walking on thin ice.