Jujutsu Kaisen: Yearning to Become an Immortal God

"During that battle, it barely used any complex techniques, nor did it use swords. It directly destroyed Naobito Zenin with sheer violence!"

Yuki Tsukumo lowered her unconsciously waving hand and looked at Satoru Gojo seriously. "It hasn't fully matured yet, Gojo.

"Because it hasn't integrated all of its abilities. Right now, it is only fighting with each ability separately. That is still far from a 'combat system.'

"But sooner or later, it will complete its own 'combat system.' Only then can it be considered fully grown. Even before 'maturing,' it could wipe out the Zenin Clan alone—

"Once it fully matures, I can no longer imagine just how much power it will unleash."

This was not unfounded worry. Yuki Tsukumo could keenly sense the King of Curses' growth. During this battle alone, she could feel the Lord of Curses evolve at least three times. Every evolution drastically increased its strength, until in the end, it could effortlessly crush the Zenin Clan head in its hand.

Even judged by sorcerer ranks rather than cursed spirit ranks, the King of Curses now deserved to be called a special-grade jujutsu sorcerer. It was already on the same level as her!

"You're worrying too much." Satoru Gojo smiled.

"What? Is there something wrong with my analysis?" Yuki Tsukumo frowned.

"No, your analysis is correct. I completely agree." Satoru Gojo said calmly, "Anyone who watched that battle would know that the Lord of Curses is indeed still growing. Its potential is nowhere near fulfilled. Normally, it should be dealt with as soon as possible, before it reaches its limit.

"Then why are you—?"

"But all of that requires one prerequisite." "What?"

"The absence of me." Satoru Gojo said. Yuki Tsukumo fell silent.

Satoru Gojo spoke lightly. "As long as I'm alive, it doesn't matter how much the King of Curses grows. I'll step in and handle everything.

"Right now, I don't care about the Lord of Curses at all, because I've seen through the situation. The Lord of Curses has no intention of causing trouble. The Zenin Clan was the side that wanted trouble. It merely retaliated after being pursued and attacked. Otherwise, it would never have appeared at all.

"If we leave it alone and don't deliberately provoke it, it is harmless for the time being."

Yuki Tsukumo's mouth twitched. "Only you could say something like that. So what exactly are you going to do now?"

Satoru Gojo suddenly lit up with excitement. "Did you know? The Tokyo-Kyoto Goodwill Event starts in two weeks! Want to come? See the students I'm so proud of! I guarantee they'll blow you away!"

Yuki Tsukumo stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious? The Zenin Clan has been wiped out! You're ignoring something this huge to care about some Tokyo-Kyoto Goodwill Event? Are you saying a school sports festival matters more than the destruction of the Zenin Clan?"

Satoru Gojo answered as if it were obvious, "Isn't that only natural? How could those bastards, who have nothing to do with me, compare to my adorable students?"

Yuki Tsukumo questioned him, "Do you even hear yourself? I recall one of your students is also named Zenin, right? Is this how much you care about your adorable students?"

"You mean Maki Zenin?" Satoru Gojo said carelessly. "Do you know what she thought about the clan's destruction? I told her the Zenin Clan was gone, with only a few old and weak people left. She replied, 'Oh.'"

"'Oh'?" Yuki Tsukumo was dumbfounded. "'Oh.'" Satoru Gojo said.

Yuki Tsukumo covered her forehead, feeling a faint headache coming on. Now she understood why those old men had sounded so pleading when they contacted her.

Fuck, Satoru Gojo was completely unreliable! She had known he was unreliable, but she had never imagined he could be unreliable to this extent!

This was truly eye-opening!

Yuki Tsukumo could not take it anymore. "Give me the phone number of that student of yours who hangs around curse users every day. If you're too lazy to contact him, I'll do it!

"Now I understand why Kento Nanami always says that he trusts Mr. Gojo but absolutely does not respect him. I feel the same way now. I trust you, Gojo, but I don't respect you one bit. You aren't worthy of anyone's respect!"

Satoru Gojo was not affected in the slightest. He took out his phone and was about to give her the number when it suddenly rang. He casually answered it and put it to his ear.

"Moshi moshi, this is Satoru Gojo."

"Mm-hmm, that did happen, but you got one premise wrong. I would only agree if I were dead or unable to move freely. Naoya Zenin and I had an agreement, and I don't think you are qualified to represent Naoya Zenin in negotiating with me, are you?"

"What do you mean, what happened? I don't understand... What? "What do you mean, what? Are you serious? Seriously?!" "Fine, I agree! I'll head over immediately!"

"What do you mean, discuss it? What is there to discuss? Megumi was bought! Do you understand? His ownership is in my hands. How I deal with him is none of his business! Of course I can decide. I have more right to decide than he does, or than his deadbeat father!"

"That's it. I'll handle it right away!" Click. Satoru Gojo hung up.

Yuki Tsukumo asked curiously, "What happened?"

Satoru Gojo first kept a straight face, trying to maintain a solemn expression. But gradually, the corners of his mouth rose, and he could not suppress them. In the end, he burst into laughter without any regard for his image, laughing until tears nearly came out.

"Haha, hahahaha! This time, I got a Big Three Family for free!" "What happened?" Yuki Tsukumo was completely confused.

"I have a student named Megumi Fushiguro." Satoru Gojo said between laughs, unable to stop. "He has been invited to become the head of the Zenin Clan!"

"Ah...?" Yuki Tsukumo opened her mouth wide, stunned speechless.

Satoru Gojo was so happy he seemed ready to dance. His fingers swiftly began typing out a text message, and Yuki Tsukumo's phone chimed. She took it out and opened it. The message was from Satoru Gojo across from her.

Satoru Gojo said excitedly, "That student of mine is named Kinji Hakari. You probably know him too, since I've bragged about him everywhere.

"I've already sent you his contact information. As for the Lord of Curses, I'm leaving it entirely to you! I'm off to find my beloved student! See you, then!"

Yuki Tsukumo had just finished reading the message. Before she could even lift her head, Satoru Gojo vanished from the spot like an illusory gust of wind.

Yuki Tsukumo took two or three deep breaths, then finally roared, unable to endure it any longer, "Go—jo—!"

1. Croak! You want me, huh?!

Mahito looked up. The afterglow of the setting sun had not yet faded, and the clouds at the horizon were tinged a deep yellow. The streetlights had not yet come on, and the entire world seemed to have sunk into a dim, hollow dusk. There were almost no pedestrians by the roadside. Even those who were there hurried away, as though everyone were fleeing this place. An inexplicable sense of dread was spreading.

Then he lowered his head and looked ahead.

A narrow convenience store stood before him. It was an old wooden building, even its entrance a sliding door with paper windows stitched into it. It looked as though one could wet a finger with saliva and poke through it without making a sound. One could tell with the naked eye that this cramped convenience store had stood for a long time. Mahito suspected it dated back to before World War II.

Kenjaku, who was leading Mahito, could not help laughing. He chuckled softly. "Incredible, isn't it? This is our destination. Don't get it wrong. I didn't take a wrong turn. This is the place—the founder of the New Shadow Style, who has lived from ancient times until now, is behind this door."

Kenjaku knocked gently on the door. A slow old voice answered from within, "Coming."

Rattle, rattle. The old sliding door was slowly pulled open, and an old man who looked as though a gust of wind could knock him over appeared before Mahito.

Kenjaku spread his arms wide and said cheerfully, "Long time no see, old friend. How have you been lately? Your old friend has come to visit." The old man slowly raised his head. He was too short, not even reaching Kenjaku's chest, and had to strain his neck to see Kenjaku's face. A white towel was wrapped around his head, covering his gray hair, though it was tied loosely enough that large curls of white hair spilled out from beneath it. They looked fairly well-maintained.

His limbs were as brittle and breakable as dead branches, nearly devoid of muscle, as if a layer of skin merely wrapped his bones. Blue veins were clearly visible, though dry like rivers that had long run dry. After raising his head, he opened his eyes as wide as he could, but to Mahito, they were cloudy like a blind man's. The whites and irises seemed to blend together, impossible to distinguish.

Mahito suspected that if he so much as gave the old man a light push, he would have to kneel and beg him not to die.

Even his speech carried the heavy slur of old age—muddled and indistinct, with every sound thick and blurred, as though he were holding something in his mouth. "It's you."

"It's me, old friend. Aren't you going to invite me in?" Kenjaku lowered his hands and slipped them back into his broad sleeves.

"I would like to refuse." The old man seemed to be breathing with effort. Finally, he gave up and took two steps back. "But I cannot refuse... How did you find this place? No one should know."

Kenjaku led Mahito into the convenience store without hesitation. The inside was just as cramped as it appeared from outside, with barely any room to stand. There were only a few narrow paths wide enough for one person to pass through. Shelves pressed against the walls, stocked mainly with everyday necessities.

Mahito looked around casually and found only cheap goods. There were not even any trendy little decorations or stickers. It was ancient, as though time had stopped here.

"Please wait." The old man moved slowly. He reached out to move a box, but Kenjaku stepped forward and easily shifted it aside, barely clearing some space.

The old man hung a "Closed" sign on the sliding door and shut it.

Kenjaku curiously opened the box. Inside were layers upon layers of cloth. The old man came over and lifted the top layer. Beneath it were several floor cushions. The old man spread the cloth on the ground, and Kenjaku knowingly took out three cushions and placed them atop it.

Mahito's mouth finally twitched. "Is this really necessary? The legendary founder of the New Shadow Style, the hidden boss who dreams of ruling Jujutsu Society—you're really not particular at all, are you?"

He truly was not particular. If Mahito did not know this was the man himself, he would have thought he had walked into some impoverished little convenience store. Looking at how skinny he was, Mahito even wondered whether he could afford to eat enough.

The old man glanced at Mahito, then lowered his head and requested of Kenjaku, "I can no longer use cursed energy. Please set up a barrier. I do not want that person to hear our conversation."

Kenjaku's smile faded slightly. "She's still watching you?"

"She's watching me closely." The old man knelt on the cushion, curling into a ball and looking pitiful. "I don't have your abilities. I cannot escape her surveillance. I have no choice, you know. My talent for jujutsu was never strong. The only reason I can cling to life like this is because of a Binding Vow. Heh, sometimes I wonder—if I truly rule Jujutsu Society in this state someday, will I even be happy?"

Kenjaku glanced at Mahito beside him and smiled as he requested, "Please. I cannot let her detect the traces of my cursed energy yet. Don't use an ordinary isolation barrier. Use the one I taught you."

Mahito recalled the knowledge Kenjaku had taught him. There was indeed a barrier specially adapted by Kenjaku for modern society. It could not only isolate the flow of cursed energy within and without, but also block electronic signals. Kenjaku often used such barriers in the original story.

Mahito snapped his fingers. Invisible ripples spread outward from him, finally clinging tightly around the convenience store. He calmly sat on a cushion, not kneeling but cross-legged in a more relaxed posture.

"You can deploy such a barrier without even forming hand signs." The old man praised him. "You have a fine student, Kenjaku."

"All right, I guarantee Tengen will not hear what comes next." Kenjaku said casually. "Luckily, I only called you an 'old friend' and did not say your name. If I had truly said it, Tengen would surely have noticed me immediately. That was close, that was close."

Tengen had not yet evolved into a god. Her calculating ability still had limits. Her surveillance worked like the United States monitoring its own citizens' phones—special keywords were set, and only when those keywords were triggered would Tengen's gaze turn there.

As Tengen's old opponent, Kenjaku understood Tengen all too well.

"But Tengen will still send someone here. The barrier can ensure she does not hear our conversation, but it cannot ensure she notices nothing unusual. The moment you deployed the barrier, the countdown began... Su, you had better state your purpose quickly." The old man said.

"Don't be so tense, old friend." Kenjaku said with a smile. "Look, I brought you a gift." The old man slowly turned his gaze toward Mahito. "May I ask who you are?"

"Mahito... You may not have heard this name, but you have definitely heard my other title." Mahito said.

"The King of Curses." The old man spoke as though groaning. "The first intelligent cursed spirit since Jujutsu Society was born. It possesses the special ability to evolve ordinary people into sorcerers and elevate sorcerers further. A cursed spirit that researches humans, and eventually... sells immortality."

Mahito smiled. "It seems I underestimated the intelligence network under the heavens."

The old man's voice suddenly became urgent. He was always slow, but now he seemed like an inexperienced young man who had yet to enter society. He urged, "Come, let me see it! Let me see that Zenin Cutter!"

Zenin Cutter? Mahito's mouth twitched a few times.

It seemed the impact of destroying the Zenin Clan was even greater than he had imagined. Even an old man hidden away in this remote corner knew the intelligence from that battle. Satoru Gojo was probably searching the entire world for clues right now, wasn't he? Thinking of this, Mahito felt even more urgent. He had to continue growing as quickly as possible. He could not stop.

"Her name is Mirokuji Kirigiri. She is a tsukumogami I personally raised." Mahito said coldly. "Her future has only just begun. The Zenin Clan was merely her debut battle. She will become a god-slaying blade and god-defending blade that shakes the world, peerless beneath the heavens."

The old man's face revealed admiration and emotion. "Good, good.

"Wonderful. This is a true companion. A swordsman should treat his sword as he treats his own lover. There is no relationship in this world closer than that between a swordsman and his blade.

"A sword's name bears the swordsmith's blessing, while the swordsman grants the sword meaning in life.

"Mirokuji Kirigiri, Gods and Buddhas, All Severed? Good, what a good name.

"The sword is good, and the person is good too!"

Kenjaku elbowed Mahito lightly in the side and asked with a grin, "What do you think? It was hard to accept at first, but now don't you get that feeling of, 'Ah, he really is the founder of the New Shadow Style'? Though he is so frail he cannot even lift a blade, he has maintained this passion for a thousand years—as long as he has existed."

The old man ignored Kenjaku's teasing entirely. He looked Mahito up and down repeatedly, finally confirming that Kirigiri was not on Mahito's person. Only then did he complain in dissatisfaction.

"What is this? As a swordsman, how can you let your sword remain alone in its sheath? You should carry your sword at all times, never letting it leave your side! Yet you appear before me so clean and empty-handed. This is bad, truly far too bad!"

Mahito asked, "Kirigiri's blade has cracked after directly clashing with Black Flash. I had no choice but to put her away, but the recovery has been less than ideal. Do you have any solution?"

The old man's face filled with regret. "I am a swordsman, not a swordsmith. I cannot deal with such a problem... If this were a thousand years ago, I knew a very skilled swordsmith. But now, it is impossible.

"Modern people have long forgotten the ancient pursuit of swords. They would rather feed bullets for a month than spend ten years honing swordsmanship. Without people who use swords, swordsmiths have declined as well."

Mahito wanted to sigh at the sky. Did this man even hear what he was saying? Feeding bullets for one month and painstakingly training with a sword for ten years—he actually dared compare them?

The moment he saw Mahito's expression, the old man knew what Mahito wanted to say. He suddenly asked, "Would you like to try?" Mahito paused. "Try what?"

The old man said calmly, "See what this old sack of bones can do." What could he do?

Mahito was genuinely surprised this time. He did know of the old man's existence. Before the end of the original story, the man had appeared as an ambitious schemer who longed to rule Jujutsu Society. He was indeed as frail as he was now. Though he constantly spoke of ruling Jujutsu Society, he never had a combat scene and was killed with ease.

As the founder of the New Shadow Style, he might truly have been formidable in his prime. But now, with barely any muscle on his body and looking as though a breeze could knock him down, Mahito did not think he had any combat ability at all.

Mahito carefully observed the old man and asked, "Are you sure?" That question was practically a signal to begin fighting.

A flash bloomed from the old man's body. Mahito's sense of danger was forcibly activated. He instinctively threw back his head. A pencil appeared before Mahito's neck. Its lead was so worn it would struggle to write, yet a line of blood silently appeared on Mahito's neck, and a drop of blood slid down from it.

The old man slowly withdrew the pencil and hid it within his sleeve. He said, "I'm old, truly old. I cannot even hit a cat anymore."

Those were the words of Soji Okita, the genius swordsman of the Bakumatsu era. At the time, he had dreamed of chasing a cat and trying to cut it down, yet he could never strike it. Thus, after waking, he said those words. Not long afterward, he passed away.

The old man was also using the phrase to mock himself, saying that he was already in the twilight of his life and no longer what he once was.

Yet even in his diminished state, he could make Mahito bleed with a pencil in an unguarded instant. Mahito had not even dodged! His current body had been created by himself, and his dynamic vision could even see the individual movements of Projection Sorcery! Yet facing the old man's sudden attack, even knowing he would strike, Mahito still failed to react.

Kenjaku clapped lightly. "You have not diminished at all, old friend. With that move alone, even if you entered the world now, you could earn yourself the rank of grade-two sorcerer." Mahito lightly touched his neck. The bloodline vanished without a sound. He could not help asking, "Only grade two? I once fought a sorcerer deeply versed in Iai and Falling Blossom Emotion. He was a special grade-one sorcerer, two ranks above grade two, yet his Iai strike was far inferior to that just now."

Before Kenjaku could explain, the old man said openly, "The person you mean is Ogi Zenin, correct? He was also a prodigy in his youth. Combining Iai with the Big Three Families' secret technique, Falling Blossom Emotion, was indeed an unprecedented idea. With that move, he was almost invincible beneath the heavens. His automatic counterattack Iai is far above mine in both power and speed."

"But you?" Mahito asked.

"There is only one thing in which I surpass him." The old man said calmly. "Intent. My 'intent' far surpasses his, so he is far inferior to me."

"Intent..." Mahito fell into thought. The old man slowly continued.

"An Iai strike is an attack with no evasion and no defense. Simply increasing power and speed can certainly strengthen it, but merely raising those things will never allow you to grasp Iai's true essence... that heart which presses forward without hesitation.

"There is no other way. One must press forward without hesitation.

"Since you came to find me, you should know the core cursed technique of my school." "You mean Simple Domain?" Mahito's tone had unconsciously become respectful. The old man explained in detail.

"Everyone who knows Simple Domain now naturally treats it as the signature technique of the New Shadow Style, a barrier technique. Yet they do not know its true core.

"Simple Domain is actually an extension of the heart.

"If you have asked the thousand-year-old curse user beside you, you should know why Simple Domain appeared.

"It was to deal with cursed spirits and cursed sorcerers that emerged endlessly in those days. Though we too were sorcerers, we were the ordinary ones, some of us not even possessing an Innate Technique."