"Can't we all just sit down and have a nice chat?"
Gojo drifted to the ground, making no move to counter or dodge. He plucked a blade of grass from the earth, stuck it between his teeth, and spoke with the easy cadence of someone lounging on a Sunday afternoon.
Around him, the air screamed with steel. Dozens of slashes flickered against his body in rapid succession, each one brilliant and precise.
None of them touched him.
He sat down on the forest floor. Elsa had struck over a hundred times by now, and not a single blow had breached his Limitless Cursed Technique.
"Oh, right."
He glanced up through the curtain of blade-light still raining down around him, as though something had only just occurred to him.
"You came to rescue Meili, didn't you? How about we make a deal?"
Silence from Elsa. The assault continued unbroken.
"Honestly, it's not like you have much choice here. You can't beat me. And your attitude might end up deciding what happens to Meili." He let the words settle. "She's a kid, sure, but what she did wasn't small. Under Lugunican law, attempting to attack a Royal Candidate alone is enough for a death sentence, isn't it?"
The storm of blades hitched. Barely a fraction of a second, so brief most people would have missed it entirely.
Gojo didn't miss it.
"Roswaal sent you after Emilia last time. This time he planted Meili in the village. Same target?"
Steel still flickered, but slower now.
He waited a few seconds. When no answer came, he spat out the grass, brushed off his pants, and stood.
"Seems like you're not interested in negotiating."
His voice cooled.
"That's a shame. You've just made the decision for both yourself and Meili."
On the last syllable, he vanished.
Elsa's instincts fired. Every nerve in her body went taut. But by the time a flicker of blue materialized before her eyes, it was already too late.
Gojo had stopped playing.
Against his full ability, a fighter who relied on physical prowess and regeneration, someone who wielded neither magic nor any special power beyond the Curse Doll, was outmatched so completely it was almost pitiful. A child trying to wrestle the tide.
Blue seized her.
That agile body, capable of movements that bordered on inhuman, turned sluggish under the pull. She couldn't break free. Gravity itself had turned traitor, wrenching her downward, and she slammed into the earth with the force of a falling star.
The impact shook the forest. Dust and debris erupted skyward.
The ground buckled. A crater gouged itself into existence, ten meters across and deep enough to swallow a house. Trees, boulders, loose soil, everything in the vicinity spiraled inward, dragged toward the center.
Elsa lay at the bottom.
Without the Curse Doll, she would have been dead several times over. Her limbs bent at angles no living body should hold. Branches and stone shards jutted from her flesh. Her clothes hung in tatters.
Whatever allure she'd once carried was gone. Torn fabric exposed skin, but there was nothing enticing about the sight. Just ruin.
Gojo walked to the edge of the crater and flicked his wrist. Elsa's broken form floated up and out, deposited at his feet.
He didn't speak to her. He grabbed a fistful of her shredded clothing and dragged her across the forest floor, back toward the others.
The distance wasn't far. He arrived within minutes, Elsa leaving a crimson smear along the ground behind him. The Curse Doll had already begun its work, knitting flesh and bone back together, but with damage this catastrophic, nearly every bone shattered, barely an inch of unmarked skin remaining, the process was far from instant.
"Charming hobby you've got there." Beatrice averted her gaze. "Truly revolting."
Gore wasn't something she enjoyed. After centuries tucked away in the Forbidden Library, it had been a long time since she'd seen anything this visceral.
"Elsa!"
Meili, sporting several fresh lumps on her head that suggested Beatrice had recently administered a lesson, shrieked at the sight and bolted toward the broken assassin.
Gojo blocked her path before she got close.
"Relax. She'll be fine in a minute."
His tone was the same as always. Light, unbothered. But Subaru, who'd spent enough time around him to read the undercurrents, caught something off.
"Gojo, uh... when you say 'fine,' you mean..."
He glanced at Elsa and fought the urge to retch. He'd always talked about wanting to fight like a hero, wanting to get stronger. But nothing in his time in this world had prepared him for this. It made horror movies look tame. Elsa was still alive, and her body was actively repairing itself, bones cracking back into place, twisted limbs writhing as they straightened. His stomach churned.
"I wanted to have a conversation with her." Gojo's back was to Elsa and Meili. He lowered his sunglasses and winked at Subaru. "But she didn't seem interested in cooperating. So I'm not planning to keep this kid around either."
Subaru flinched at the words, but the wink landed. He understood.
"You... you're going to kill this child?" His voice pitched high, laced with disbelief. The performance came out stiff, but it was enough.
Gojo didn't answer. He grabbed Meili by the collar, hoisted her into the air, and dangled her in front of Elsa.
"Don't blame me, okay? It's this nice lady here who decided she didn't want you to live."
His left hand held Meili aloft. His right hand rose, index finger extended, hovering before the girl's face.
A familiar glow kindled at his fingertip.
Red light.
Elsa knew that light. It had seared itself into her memory the night they'd fought in the Royal Capital. That power, absolute and irresistible, had brought her closer to true death than almost anything in her life.
Now that same crimson radiance pulsed inches from Meili's face. A dark sphere, dense with terrifying energy, wobbled lazily at the tip of Gojo's finger.
Elsa's pupils contracted. She said nothing.
Meili's face drained of color.
"Elsa, do something!"
Fear of death and acceptance of death were two entirely separate things. Given the choice, who would willingly stop breathing? Especially when, if she was being honest, life lately hadn't been all that bad.
But Elsa remained silent, watching her own mangled body piece itself back together, offering nothing.
Meili's voice cracked. "H-hey, mister, how about you talk to Meili instead? Meili can cooperate, okay?"
Young as she was, she wasn't naive. At this distance, the power radiating from Gojo's fingertip was unmistakable. She could feel it in her bones.
"Nice try, but stalling won't work on me." His smile didn't waver, but the warmth bled out of his voice. "It's a shame, but... goodbye."
The red light at his fingertip flared, blazing so bright it seared the air itself...
"Wait."
Elsa's voice, low and flat, cut through the glare.
"What you want to know. I'll tell you."
The beam of red light fired. It tore from his finger in a straight line, a scarlet afterimage burning across everyone's vision. It punched through the forest, extending further than the eye could follow, until it vanished beyond the horizon.
Then came the sound. A deafening roar, as if the world itself had been split open.
In the beam's wake, the forest looked like it had been carved by a weapon from another era. Everything along that line, trees, stone, earth, had ceased to exist. The ground itself bore a trench ten meters wide, stretching into the distance until it disappeared from sight.
"Well, that was close." Gojo peered down at Meili, whose face had gone the color of fresh snow. "Just a hair to the left, and our little Meili would've vanished from this world entirely."
In truth, controlling Red at that level was trivial for him. The near-miss had been theater, nothing more, a carefully staged performance to make Elsa believe he'd genuinely intended to kill the girl.
His gamble had been simple. From everything he'd observed, Elsa cared about Meili. Why else risk coming to rescue her? And her earlier retreat, that instant pivot from failed extraction to full withdrawal, proved she understood the gap between them. She'd come anyway.
If the bluff had failed, the loss would have been minimal. He'd simply have found another approach.
But it hadn't failed.
"Better thank your big sister Elsa properly. If she hadn't agreed when she did, things really would have gotten dangerous for you."
He tossed Meili toward Elsa, whose arms had only just finished regenerating. She caught the girl against her chest, and the impact against her still-healing torso forced a grunt through clenched teeth.
Beatrice watched from the sideline. Gojo stood there smiling, looking for all the world like a villain savoring the moment. The corner of her mouth twitched.
Maybe I was a bit too hasty, she thought. Signing a Contract with someone like this...
"Alright, Subaru, take Betty and get these kids back to the village. I'll stay here and have a proper chat with our new friends."
"Betty is not a maid. Stop ordering Betty around..."
"You're right, you're right. It's not an order. It's a request. Betty's the most considerate person I know, and I could really use your help right now."
He crouched in front of her, smile gentle and sincere.
Beatrice puffed out her cheeks, then looked away. "Don't think flattery will make Betty help you. I just want to get these children home as quickly as possible."
She huffed, jabbed Subaru in the ribs with her elbow. "Move it, idiot."
"R-right!"
He scooped up two of the children and set off with Beatrice, the rest of the kids trailing behind them toward the village.
Gojo watched until they disappeared among the trees, then stretched his arms overhead and dropped down beside Elsa.
"What a day."
He exhaled.
"At least it's finally over."
Elsa's injuries continued to mend. When the last wound sealed and the final bone clicked into place, she rose in silence and knelt before him, settling on her heels.
She made no effort to adjust her ruined clothing or cover what it no longer concealed.
"Tell me about Roswaal."
"The job came through an organization..."
"Elsa." Meili's voice hitched at the word organization, tension pulling her features tight.
"Organization?" Gojo leaned forward. "What organization?"
"An assassins' guild. Founded by the person we call Mother."
Elsa's tone was flat, mechanical, stripped of all inflection.
"Your mother? Both of you?"
He rubbed his chin and glanced between them, studying their faces. No matter how he looked, these two didn't resemble each other in the slightest.
"Not by blood. The founder of the organization requires all members to address her as Mother." A beat. "She is also the Sin Archbishop of Lust of the Witch Cult."
Sin Archbishop.
That title was anything but unfamiliar.
He'd read about them during his time in the Forbidden Library.
When the original Witches died, their Witch Factors passed on. Those who claimed them gained Authorities, powers that set them apart from anything else in this world. The holders had come to be called Sin Archbishops, though the title was a modern convention.
Centuries ago, when all the bearers had been women, they'd simply been called Witches.
He hadn't expected this. One chance encounter in a forest, and he'd stumbled onto a thread leading straight to the Witch Cult's inner circle.
"Go on. I'm getting more interested by the minute."
"Roswaal posted a bounty through the organization. We were assigned to make contact and carry out his requests. In the Royal Capital, he hired me to steal Royal Candidate Emilia's insignia."
"So that's why you contracted Felt to do the job instead of handling it yourself. With your skills, doing it personally would've been simpler, wouldn't it?"
...
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