"I still don't get it," she muttered, staring up at the unnatural darkness. "How do you even seal Gojo? The guy is a walking cheat code."
"Who knows," Ren replied, flat.
They reached street level. An overturned car burned at the curb, its flickering glow washing across their faces.
Maki stepped forward, scanning the ruined street. The neon signs were dead. Behind the twisted metal of a half-lowered security grate across the road, pale faces pressed together in the shadows—a mother clutching a teenager, a businessman holding his briefcase like a shield. Normal people. Huddled, silent, praying the monsters wouldn't look their way.
"Dammit," Maki muttered, Playful Cloud scraping softly against the pavement.
While her attention stayed on the civilians, Ren took a deliberate step back and slipped into the shadow of a concrete pillar.
He took a slow breath, ignoring the burn in his ribs. With a single thought, the air in front of him rippled.
A glowing blue holographic window snapped into existence—visible only to him. Two golden notifications sat waiting at the center of the screen. He tapped the first.
[ ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Calamity Quelled (Ocean) ]
Condition Met: Exorcise a fully-realized Special Grade Disaster Curse inside its own Domain Expansion.
[ REWARDS DISTRIBUTED ]
System Points: +125,000 SP
Reward: Cursed Technique "Construction" upgraded from ★3 to ★5.
Three stars to five. Construction was finally flawless—no more massive energy bleed. He could now shape stored energy into complex, lethal weapons in an instant.
He tapped the second.
[ MYTHIC ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Eclipse of the Apex ]
Condition Met: Eradicate a fully realized Heavenly Restriction anomaly without utilizing Cursed Energy.
[ REWARDS DISTRIBUTED ]
System Points: +200,000 SP
Extra Rewards:
— Toji Fushiguro Fighting Experience
— Ultra Sense (Passive)
Sharpens combat instincts to their absolute limit. Registers incoming threats a fraction of a second before they land—enough for the body to react.
Downside: Blind to attacks with no physical tells. Completely ineffective against cursed techniques and energy-based attacks.
Ren stared at the screen for a long moment.
He closed it.
Maki was already looking back at him over her shoulder. "You good?"
"Yeah." He pushed off the pillar and fell into step beside her. "Let's move."
His eyes drifted across the street—the burning car, the dead signs, the faces behind the glass.
Jogo had dropped everything the second he felt Sukuna's energy. Didn't even look back. Just ran toward it like a dog answering a call.
That alone said enough.
Two things like that meeting in the middle of a city full of people—every block for miles was going to pay for it.
He turned to Maki.
"Hey." His voice was quiet but firm. "Take whoever's left out here—sorcerers, civilians, everyone—and get them as far from this district as possible."
Maki frowned. "Why?"
"Just a feeling."
She stared at him. She knew that tone.
"How far?"
"As far as you can get them." He glanced into the deeper dark. "Don't stop until you think it's far enough, then go further."
Maki followed his gaze. She didn't push for more. She'd felt Sukuna's energy too, back in the station. She understood what he wasn't saying.
She turned without a word and moved toward the civilians behind the security grate.
Ren watched her go, then exhaled through his nose.
"Almost four hundred thousand points," he muttered, rolling his sore shoulder. "And nothing useful I can do with them right now."
Gojo was locked inside the Prison Realm. Sealed. Completely unreachable. He'd run the scenario a dozen times—there was no angle, no clever play, no amount of SP he could dump into the System that would change that tonight.
Best move is out. Pull back, regroup, live to fight another day.
Simple enough. Clean enough.
He pushed off the pillar.
Across the street, Maki was already at the grate, pulling it open. The businessman stumbled out first, still clutching his briefcase like a shield. The mother came next, dragging her kid close.
Ren crossed the road and grabbed the grate from the other side, holding it steady.
"Move fast," he said to the people spilling out. "Stay close to her. Don't stop walking until she tells you to."
Nobody argued. They took one look at him—the dried blood, the torn uniform, the katana at his hip—and moved.
"I'll handle the others," he said, already turning away. "Keep moving."
Maki glanced at him once. Then back at the civilians.
"Don't do anything stupid."
He was already gone.
...
He found them on the next block.
Kusakabe had his back against a crumbled wall, a cigarette burning between two fingers. Panda stood beside him, arms crossed, scanning the street.
Both looked up when Ren rounded the corner.
"You look terrible," Panda said.
"Sukuna has Yuji." Ren didn't slow down. "At least twelve fingers. Maybe more."
The cigarette stopped halfway to Kusakabe's mouth.
Panda went still.
Neither of them spoke. They just looked at each other—the scale of it, the weight of it, what twelve fingers of Sukuna loose in a packed city actually meant.
Kusakabe took a long drag. Exhaled. Dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his boot.
"Right." His voice was flat. "So we're not fighting tonight."