Chapter 105: 0.2 Seconds of Unlimited Void
"You really…"
Satoru Gojo's voice was quiet.
So quiet that it should have been swallowed by the screaming, the crying, the wet crunch of Transfigured Humans tearing into flesh.
Yet every curse on the platform heard him clearly.
"…pissed me off."
Jogo took a step back before he could stop himself.
He felt it.
Not cursed energy.
Not pressure.
Killing intent.
It rolled off Gojo like a physical weight, pressing against the throat, the lungs, the soul. For the first time since stepping onto the Underground Level Five platform, Jogo felt the chilling certainty that one wrong breath would get him killed.
"Don't let him scare you!"
Mahito laughed from atop the train, his stitched face twisting into something hideous and gleeful.
"He won't open his Domain! He can't!"
Before the last word left his mouth, Mahito slammed both palms onto the roof of the train.
"Soul Multiplicity: Body Repel!"
The carriage shook.
Hundreds of compressed Transfigured Humans burst forward like living cannon shells. Flesh warped, bones cracked, and their bodies swelled as they charged across the platform in a grotesque tide, each one roaring with a voice that no longer sounded human.
At the same time, Jogo raised both hands.
The volcanic vents on his palms glowed red-hot.
"Ember Insects, Maximum Output!"
A swarm of purple fire insects poured out, their human faces shrieking as they mixed into the wave of distorted bodies.
They were not aimed only at Gojo.
They were aimed at the civilians.
Force him to defend.
Force him to save them.
Force him to split his attention until even the smallest flaw appeared in his Limitless.
If even one opening formed, they could win.
That was the plan.
That was supposed to be the plan.
But as the wave of flesh and fire was about to swallow the platform, Gojo slowly raised his right hand.
His index and middle fingers crossed.
In those radiant blue eyes, something beyond anger flickered.
Resolve.
Madness.
Divinity.
"Besides this…"
Gojo's voice was almost a murmur.
"I can't think of another way."
Jogo's pupil shrank.
He recognized that gesture.
Every curse worth the name knew it.
A hand sign that represented the absolute summit of jujutsu.
"Impossible…"
His voice cracked.
"Is he insane?"
Mahito's smile froze.
"Does he not care what happens to the civilians?"
Under their horrified gazes, Satoru Gojo parted his lips.
"Domain Expansion."
The world stopped.
"Unlimited Void."
Buzz.
A black barrier bloomed outward with Gojo at its center.
It swallowed everything.
The entire Underground Level Five platform.
Jogo.
Mahito.
Choso.
The swarm of Transfigured Humans.
The thousands of civilians trapped in terror.
For one impossible instant, the underground station ceased to exist.
There was no platform.
No train.
No screams.
Only the infinite void.
Space without end.
Knowledge without mercy.
The forced perception of everything, repeated endlessly, poured into every mind caught within the Domain.
To see everything.
To feel everything.
To understand everything.
And because of that, to be unable to do anything at all.
This was Unlimited Void.
The absolute killing field of Satoru Gojo.
But this time, he did not unleash it fully.
Veins stood out along Gojo's forehead. His Six Eyes operated at their absolute limit, calculating, measuring, compressing the impossible into a window so narrow that even a single mistake would destroy thousands of lives.
For ordinary humans, Unlimited Void was poison.
A lethal flood of information their minds could never endure.
But what if it lasted only 0.2 seconds?
That was Gojo's gamble.
No.
That was Gojo's miracle.
Something only the strongest could even attempt.
The Domain opened.
Then shattered.
0.2 seconds.
Gone almost before it could be measured.
Yet it was enough.
For Special Grade Cursed Spirits, 0.2 seconds was not fatal. It would not kill them. It would not erase them.
But it would paralyze them.
For ordinary people, those 0.2 seconds forced roughly half a year's worth of information into their brains. It would leave them unconscious. It would leave them bedridden for weeks, perhaps months.
But they would live.
They would not become vegetables.
They would not die.
The platform fell silent.
Every civilian collapsed where they stood.
Every Transfigured Human froze mid-lunge.
Jogo stood rigid, his single eye vacant.
Mahito's body locked in place, his stitched smile hanging uselessly on his face.
Choso was also stunned still, his blood manipulation frozen before it could move.
In that hell where curses had danced freely, Satoru Gojo carved out a pocket of absolute stillness.
And then he moved.
Not with his usual lazy arrogance.
Not with the casual ease of someone playing with opponents beneath him.
This was pure speed.
No wasted motion.
No excess power.
No cursed technique.
Gojo shut off the automatic protection of Limitless and poured everything into strengthening his body.
The Transfigured Humans would wake soon.
When they did, they would resume slaughtering everyone around them.
So before that happened, Gojo had to erase them all.
There were roughly one thousand Transfigured Humans on the platform.
One thousand ruined lives.
One thousand mercy killings.
Blue afterimages cut across the underground station in sharp, geometric lines.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Each strike landed with surgical precision.
A fist through the core.
A kick crushing the skull.
A hand tearing through the weak point of a fused body before it could twitch.
Gojo moved through the unconscious civilians without touching a single one. He crossed gaps no wider than a palm. He twisted past fallen bodies, leapt over collapsed children, slid between rows of helpless people, and killed only what needed to be killed.
Blood burst across the tiles.
Limbs flew.
Flesh splattered against walls and pillars.
There was no hesitation in his movements, but there was no cruelty either.
This was not rage.
This was work.
One hundred.
Three hundred.
Five hundred.
At the five-hundredth, a massive fused Transfigured Human twitched.
Its swollen fingers scraped against the tiles.
It was waking up early.
Gojo's gaze sharpened.
His bare hand stabbed through its chest and crushed the core inside.
The creature split apart before it could even scream.
Eight hundred.
Nine hundred.
One thousand.
A storm of blood swept through the sealed underground space.
299 seconds.
That was all it took.
When the head of the final Transfigured Human burst beneath Gojo's palm, not a single monster remained standing on the platform.
Only unconscious civilians.
Paralyzed Special Grades.
And the strongest sorcerer alive, standing in a sea of blood.
"Haa…"
Gojo stopped.
For the first time that night, his breathing was uneven.
Even with the Six Eyes, even with Reverse Cursed Technique, even for Satoru Gojo, that level of sustained high-speed slaughter carried a cost.
Sweat slipped down his pale cheek.
His lungs worked faster than usual.
His brain stung as if needles had been driven into it.
Expanding and closing a Domain in 0.2 seconds was not something even he could do without backlash.
Still, he stood.
"It's over."
Gojo wiped at the corner of his mouth.
The blood there did not belong to him.
His gaze drifted toward Jogo and Mahito, both still locked in the aftershock of Unlimited Void.
One more attack.
That was all it would take.
One more blow, and two Special Grade Cursed Spirits would vanish from the world.
He took a step forward.
Then stopped.
A chill crawled up his spine.
It was not fear.
It was instinct.
The sensation of a venomous snake staring at him from the dark.
"Hm?"
Gojo looked down.
At some point, a small cube had appeared near his feet.
It resembled a twisted Rubik's Cube, covered in eerie talismanic markings and radiating an ominous presence so foul it seemed to rot the air around it.
What is this?
The Six Eyes processed the object immediately, yet that made the unease sharper.
It had not been there before.
So when had it appeared?
The cube split open.
Like a mouth peeling itself apart.
Inside, a bloodshot crimson eye stared up at him.
From the depths of the dark tunnel, a familiar voice rang out.
Familiar.
And impossibly wrong.
"Prison Realm."
The voice carried the calm satisfaction of a trap finally closing.
"Gate open."
.....
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