Invincible Me Only Wants to Slack Off

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze seeming to pierce through the layered concrete barriers to see the terrifying sight above ground—a plain that had been forcibly smoothed into a flat surface.

"Sukuna's domain was denied by him. All the rules, all the slashes, were utterly shattered before that blade's light. That plain..." Jogo's voice carried a barely perceptible tremor of awe and... dread. "It's a testament to the existence of his power, and a marker of the complete negation of Sukuna's domain."

"Denying Sukuna-sama's domain..." The mockery on Mahito's face finally faded, replaced by a twisted expression mixing shock and morbid excitement. He licked his lips, as if savoring some ultimate dangerous flavor. "This is... incredible! So twisted! So interesting!!"

He abruptly stood up, a pure, reckless madness blazing in his eyes: "A soul like that! An existence like that! If I could touch his soul... if I could twist it, reshape it..."

"Mahito." Jogo's cold voice cut off his frenzied ramblings, the tone like a blade of ice, instantly piercing Mahito's heated fantasies.

Mahito's movements froze mid-motion.

"Don't do anything stupid." Jogo slowly turned his head, his half-closed eyes leaking a chilling, undisguised killing intent, like a blade drawn from a frozen abyss. "He is the greatest 'variable' outside the plan. An existence with the concept of absolute slaughter."

Jogo's gaze locked onto Mahito, each word heavy and precise: "Before you, the 'unchangeable,' touch him, your soul—along with the very space of your existence—will be completely 'severed.' There is no possibility of adaptation."

"..." The excitement on Mahito's face seemed instantly frozen.

He looked at the unprecedented seriousness and killing intent in Jogo's eyes, feeling for the first time a genuine chill from the depths of his soul.

That white-haired man... was something even Jogo feared, a true monster.

"Then... then what do we do now?" Mahito asked instinctively, a hint of wavering he himself hadn't noticed creeping into his voice.

Jogo was silent for a few moments, his gaze once again piercing into the deep, unseen darkness of the tunnel, as if a new path was brewing there.

"The variable has appeared; the situation is in chaos." His voice returned to a cold calm, yet carried an undeniable edge. "The established path needs correction. We need to..."

An extremely faint ripple in space, like a dragonfly skimming the water, silently spread at the entrance of this underground space.

It moved faster than the limits of perception!

Mahito's heterochromatic pupils contracted to pinpricks!

A primal, soul-deep chill, like a prey locked onto by an apex predator, instantly flooded his entire body!

He didn't even have time to think!

His body's instinct surpassed everything!

Crack! Splat!

The sound of bones twisting, flesh and blood tearing and reforming exploded in an instant!

Mahito's entire body, like clay violently kneaded by an invisible giant hand, bent backward at an angle completely violating human physiology!

At the same time, his legs below the waist instantly swelled, deformed, and turned into two massive, twisted, semi-transparent flesh wings!

Almost in the same instant—

A faint blue, razor-thin mark, like Death's silent smile, appeared exactly where Mahito's head had been a second ago!

That blade mark hung in the air, neatly slicing through the dim light!

Its edges were smooth as a mirror, leaving behind a freezing, soul-severing will to cut!

The blade mark flashed and vanished, as if it had never existed.

"Hah... hah..." Mahito's twisted, giant-insect-like body trembled violently, cold sweat mixed with physiological tears instantly covering his suture-lined face.

The brush with death a moment ago left the remaining half of his human face twisted with uncontrollable fear spasms.

Just a little more!

His head, along with the core of his soul, would have been silently sliced to pieces like that trash Choso!

He stiffly turned his only movable eyeball to where Jogo had been standing.

Only a faint, almost invisible trace of spatial distortion remained on the ground, like the last ripple on a water's surface, slowly fading.

Jogo... ran?!

At the moment that monster appeared, he had abandoned him without hesitation and fled alone?!

A surge of absurd humiliation at being used and discarded rushed into Mahito's mind, instantly overwhelming his fear!

"Jogo...!!" Mahito squeezed out a roar of rage and disbelief from his hoarse throat, filled with resentment and incredulity! He had been used as bait?!

"Found you, Mahito."

A flat, emotionless voice, like a cold hammer of judgment, shattered the dark silence and rang Mahito's death knell.

Mahito's giant-insect-like body stiffened, as if hit by a petrification spell.

He turned his head extremely stiffly, bit by bit.

At the tunnel entrance, barely outlined by the faint red light of distant emergency lamps.

White hair like snow, emitting a faint, cold glow in the absolute darkness.

Chen Tian stood there quietly, his right hand casually resting on the hilt of the ancient longsword at his waist.

Those deep-sea-like eyes were calm and unruffled, looking at Mahito as if he were a piece of... inferior trash waiting to be processed in a lab.

"No, no! You can't kill me!!"

Mahito's twisted, giant-insect-like body convulsed wildly, the half-human face covered in sutures completely distorted by extreme fear!

He had never felt such cold, such pure malice—not the darkness of a curse, but a higher-level negation from the very plane of existence!

His soul core—that mass of chaos formed from humanity's pure malice toward itself—now trembled and contracted wildly, as if plunged into a flame of Absolute Zero!

"A curse that twists souls..." Chen Tian looked at him, his gaze utterly devoid of emotion, "...is the most irredeemable trash."

The moment the words fell!

Chen Tian's hand, resting on the hilt of the Enma Sword at his waist, moved!

No earth-shattering Drawing Sword Technique, no buildup of cursed energy ready to erupt, not even a single unnecessary motion!

Just a casual flick of his wrist!

The Enma Sword left its sheath!

In the faint light of the emergency lamps deep within the tunnel, the blade traced a cold, almost imperceptible arc of deep blue! The edge cut through the air, leaving behind spatial folds that closed in an instant!

Shing! Shing! Shing!

Chen Tian's wrist moved so fast it left only afterimages! He simply, as if brushing away dust, held the Enma Sword and made a few light, effortless strokes in the void before him!

No trajectory! No warning!

Mahito, writhing in terror and trying to activate Idle Transfiguration again to reshape his body, suddenly froze!

His massive insect form, composed of countless twisted flesh and blood, along with the boiling core of malice deep within his soul, was instantly seized by an invisible, absolute will of severance!

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack—!!!

A barrage of cutting sounds, dense enough to drive one mad, exploded simultaneously across every inch of his body and every corner of his soul!

This was not a physical slash!

It was space itself rejecting his existence!

The very foundation of his being was being coldly, precisely—like pruning dead branches—cut away and stripped!

Mahito's consciousness plunged into absolute void and blankness in that instant. He couldn't feel "pain"—that was an experience of the living.

What he felt was "existence" itself being "deleted," piece by piece, strand by strand.

His mismatched pupils, nearly bursting from sheer terror, lost all focus, leaving only hollow, frozen despair.

All the stitches on his face lost their tension, sagging and slack like a broken ragdoll discarded after being played with.

Chen Tian didn't even spare him a final glance.

The Enma Sword casually cut diagonally downward through the air at his side, then reversed into an upward slash! A deep blue, cross-shaped spatial rift instantly opened, its edges shimmering with starlike light, leading to the cold, clear night sky outside the tunnel.

Chen Tian stepped forward, heading toward that portal.

Just as half his body was about to vanish into the cross-shaped light rift.

His steps stopped.

He didn't turn around.

He only tilted his face slightly.

His icy gaze seemed to pierce through thick concrete, through countless ruins and underground structures, and precisely nail itself onto some presence lurking in the depths of darkness like a stubborn leech.

Chen Tian's voice echoed clearly through the underground tunnel, not loud, yet carrying a chill that froze space itself. Each word struck like an Ice Cone chiseling into the depths of a soul.

"Don't come bother me."

The portal's glow illuminated half of his flawless profile as he spoke, his words carrying a cold indifference toward everything.

"I have no interest in your little games."

"Including that... Culling Game of yours."

Chen Tian's tone was flat.

"I won't stop Sukuna from regaining his full power."

The corner of his mouth seemed to twitch upward ever so slightly—not a smile, but something deeper, a mockery from on high watching ants struggle.

"But—"

An invisible, terrifying will, capable of shattering stars, suddenly descended! The air in the entire underground space instantly solidified! Even the water droplets seeping from distant pipes hung suspended midair!

"If you disturb me..."

"Or the people around me..."

Chen Tian's figure fully merged into the deep blue cross-shaped light rift, leaving only one final, bone-chilling sentence, like an invisible Sword of Damocles, crashing down into the depths of Jogo's consciousness:

"I'll cut you down."

The cross-shaped spatial rift contracted and vanished in an instant. Along with the white-haired figure, it was as if they had never existed.

Only Mahito's massive, motionless insect form remained deep in the tunnel.

Crack... crack crack...

Countless fine, deep blue fissures, like crazily spreading ice-crack porcelain, instantly crawled across every inch of its body!

Crash—!!!

Like a sandcastle pushed over.

Mahito's body, that of a Special Grade Cursed Spirit born from the malice of humanity, along with his twisted Soul Core, silently and soundlessly disintegrated into billions of faintly glowing blue specks of dust, vanishing without a trace in the dead, silent underground tunnel.

Chapter 9: Fake News

Cold numbers congealed on the top-secret files of Jujutsu Headquarters:

?Shibuya Incident—Deaths: 5,376 (excluding Transfigured Humans). Deaths caused by Transfigured Humans: 7,129.

Severe injuries resulting in disability: 6,955. Minor injuries: 4,251.?

?Total casualties: 23,411.?

These numbers weighed heavily on the paper, recording the true devastation left behind after a collision between the King of Curses and some other existence.

Yet, these very numbers were already much better than in the original story.

In the original story, all of Tokyo was plunged into darkness. All twenty-three wards of Tokyo were almost completely destroyed. Nearly five million citizens needed evacuation. Not to mention the countless high-ranking government officials who had gone missing, to the point where the government was even considering moving the Prime Minister's Official Residence to Osaka.

Therefore, Chen Tian's appearance had, to a certain extent, reduced the casualties and losses.

However, when the night faded and dawn forcibly descended upon the devastated land of Shibuya, a completely different voice flowed from the television screens.

The female news anchor, with delicate makeup and a steady tone laced with just the right amount of gravity, said: "Last night, during the Halloween celebrations, a series of serious chain explosions of natural gas pipelines occurred in Shibuya Ward, resulting in ten deaths and fifty injuries of varying degrees. The government will conduct a deep self-reflection and strengthen public safety supervision..."

The screen switched quickly, the camera sweeping over deliberately cleaned-up peripheral streets, a few symbolic building ruins cordoned off by safety fences, and rescue workers in neat uniforms performing "cleanup" work.

Ten people? Fifty people?

The scene outside the window silently mocked—more than half of Shibuya's core area had vanished! As far as the eye could see stretched a smooth, dead, gray-white plain, extending for kilometers without end, as if scraped clean by an invisible giant plow!

That was the Absolute Cutting Zone left by Sukuna's Domain! Beyond this "plain" was a forest of wreckage completely destroyed by the shockwave, twisted steel beams like the ribs of a giant beast piercing the gray sky, broken glass and concrete powder covering everything.

But no one questioned it.

The Halloween revelers, the chaotic screams and running, the families and friends of countless missing persons... their memories had been completely overwritten and falsified by the mandatory "cleansing" ordered by the Jujutsu world high-level.