Kenjaku lay on the sofa in an apartment building, lazily flipping through channels as he let out a bored yawn.
As though he was getting a little sleepy, he shifted into a more comfortable position. Just as he was about to continue enjoying himself—
His phone vibrated.
He took it out and unlocked the screen. A moment later, the message it displayed made the corners of Kenjaku's lips rise uncontrollably, eventually forming an intrigued smile.
"Oh?"
Wasuke Itadori, confirmed dead.
In a sense, it could be considered a fated entanglement.
He had not expected it to end on this day—even with a thousand years of experience and having seen all manner of worldly bonds, Kenjaku could not help but sigh at this moment.
That pitiful, stubborn old man.
Of course, that emotional fluctuation lasted only a moment.
Like ordinary people stirred by the fast-paced, shallow trends of society, the feeling surfaced only briefly before vanishing soundlessly, like a stone sinking into a deep lake—with no further ripples.
Kenjaku naturally turned his attention elsewhere.
Yuji Itadori.
As another of his creations, Kenjaku's expectations for him were naturally unspokenly high.
Previously, however, various external factors and a few of his own selfish considerations had kept him from making a move on the boy.
But now—
Wasuke Itadori was already gone. It was time for him to grow up a little.
And because of Unblemished, Kenjaku now held differing degrees of expectation for both of them—despite never having met, the two would still be naturally drawn together.
Perhaps this was a pull and connection that transcended blood ties?
Heh—regardless, Kenjaku was already looking forward to what came next.
One carried the possibilities of Jujutsu; the other was Sukuna's perfect vessel.
Just how far into the future could these two go?
For Kenjaku, it