The Appointed Battle

Whoosh!

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The invisible slash instantly cut through three skyscrapers behind Satoru Gojo. The cuts were as smooth as mirrors, and only several seconds later did the buildings slowly begin to slide down. A deafening roar erupted as dust and debris instantly swallowed half the block.

Yet Satoru Gojo did not move at all. Even his hair remained perfectly in place.

"Too slow."

Satoru Gojo tilted his head slightly. His azure Six Eyes shone especially brightly through the dust. One hand remained in his pocket as he casually brushed the dust from his body.

"Even though you changed bodies and your technique's output has increased, Sukuna... have you gotten slower?"

"You glib little brat." Sukuna was not angered by his failed attack. Instead, his smile became even crueler. The ground beneath his feet instantly shattered, and he charged at Satoru Gojo like a black cannonball.

Bang!

In an instant, their figures collided, creating a massive shockwave that shattered every remaining glass curtain wall nearby.

Satoru Gojo raised a hand to block, only to find Sukuna's four arms striking like a raging storm. Every punch carried enough cursed energy output to blast apart a special-grade cursed spirit.

"Not bad at hand-to-hand combat." Satoru Gojo retreated with the force of the blows, then flicked a finger.

"Cursed Technique Reversal—Red."

A dark-red sphere of densely compressed cursed energy formed at his fingertip, instantly expanding as it hurtled toward Sukuna's face with the principle of repelling all things.

The cursed energy around Sukuna instantly became viscous, forcibly neutralizing Red's impact. He endured the repulsive force of the Reverse Cursed Technique and grabbed backhandedly, black cursed energy forming into a massive claw.

"There's more than just you here."

Shiyue Shuo had appeared on Sukuna's flank at some point. There was no fluctuation of cursed energy, no telltale buildup before a technique. He had simply appeared out of thin air.

"A strong ox grants me the strength to uproot mountains."

A faint brown glow wrapped around Shiyue Shuo's right fist as he slammed it heavily into Sukuna's left arm, which Sukuna had raised to defend.

Boom!

The dull thunderous impact sounded like a war drum. Sukuna's body, sturdy enough to withstand Red head-on, was actually blasted sideways dozens of meters, crashing heavily into an office building.

"You again, little brat." Sukuna rose from the rubble and dusted off his arm. His left arm was slightly warped, but it instantly recovered amid the white smoke of the Reverse Cursed Technique.

"Not killing you in Shibuya was truly a mistake."

"I think so too." Shiyue Shuo shook his slightly numb wrist and was about to attack again.

"Wait!"

Satoru Gojo instantly appeared between them, raising both hands in a stopping gesture.

"Hah? Scared?" Sukuna paused slightly, though the killing intent in his eyes did not fade.

"Scared? I just don't want my students getting caught in the aftermath of something on this level." Satoru Gojo pointed at Itadori and the others. "Besides, what date is it today?"

"November 19th," Shiyue Shuo answered. He knew they were about to arrange a battle. Satoru Gojo was indeed not in his best condition right now, though neither was he. He had yet to fully adapt to this perfect body, and the world was still rejecting him every moment.

"Still over a month away." Satoru Gojo stroked his chin as casually as if deciding what to have for dinner. "Then let's make it December 24th."

"Christmas Eve." Shiyue Shuo raised a brow.

"That day is Suguru Geto's... I mean, Suguru Geto's death anniversary." Satoru Gojo's voice lowered for a moment before he resumed that arrogant demeanor. "Since this mess was caused by two Suguru Getos—though that stitched-up freak didn't come this time—let's settle this entire rotten mess on that day."

He looked at Sukuna, his gaze as sharp as a blade.

"On December 24th, I'll kill you. All of you."

Sukuna looked at Satoru Gojo, then at Shiyue Shuo beside him, who was poised to strike. He knew that he was not yet complete. If he wanted to truly fight without restraint while surrounded by these sorcerers, especially against Satoru Gojo and Shiyue Shuo, who possessed that bizarre power of rules...

"Interesting." Sukuna withdrew his presence and dispersed the cursed energy in his hand. "Then I'll let you live another month. Wash your neck and wait, Satoru Gojo."

"Yeah. I'll be waiting to cut you in half."

With Sukuna's departure, the terrifying pressure weighing on everyone's hearts finally dissipated.

"Gojo-sensei." Shiyue Shuo stepped forward and looked at Satoru Gojo's back. "Is this really all right?"

Satoru Gojo turned around. Sunlight fell across his impossibly refined face. He pulled down the temporary bandages he had been using as a blindfold, covering those sky-blue eyes.

"Shiyue."

"Yeah?"

"We'll win."

Three simple words, yet they carried absolute confidence that required no reason.

"Let's go. Since we've set the date, we need to prepare properly." Satoru Gojo stretched lazily. "First, I want Kikufuku. Edamame and fresh cream flavor."

Everyone watched the strongest sorcerer, who had just emerged from sealing and was already clamoring for sweets. Their tightly wound nerves finally relaxed.

Only Shiyue Shuo did not smile. Of course he knew whether they would win. He needed to adapt to this perfect body as quickly as possible and find a way to resist the world's rejection.

Tokyo, an ancient manor shrouded in shadows.

The air here seemed frozen. Only the candle flames flickered weakly, as though they feared the figure seated in the darkness.

Ryomen Sukuna sat cross-legged upon a "throne" piled from cursed spirit bones, propping up his chin with one hand. His scarlet eyes were half-lidded, revealing a bored lethargy.

"Lord Sukuna."

Uraume knelt respectfully on the ground, holding up a wooden box sealed layer upon layer with talismans. Her forehead pressed against the cold floor, and her voice carried both fear and fervor.

"My apologies. Regarding the final finger's whereabouts... it is likely just as you expected."

"It's in Satoru Gojo's hands." Sukuna did not even raise an eyelid. "That overconfident brat wants to use such a crude trick to delay me, or perhaps he simply wants to disgust me. It doesn't matter."

"Yes. However, to make up for the cursed energy missing from that finger, I have found this for you."

Uraume slowly opened the wooden box.

An ancient, decayed aura suffused with immensely evil cursed energy instantly filled the entire room.

Inside the box was not a finger, but a shriveled, mummified head that looked as though it had weathered a thousand years.

It was the remnant of Ryomen Sukuna's flesh from a thousand years ago—the Living Buddha.

"Oh?" Sukuna opened his eyes, his gaze falling upon the dried corpse. A playful curve appeared at the corner of his lips. "Eating my own corpse to recover my strength... I have to admit, Uraume, that was quite an idea."

"So long as it returns you to your peak, any method is necessary." Uraume's voice trembled slightly.

Sukuna reached out and grabbed the shriveled head.

Without the slightest hesitation, he opened his mouth and, as though sampling an apple, directly stuffed the remains brimming with immense cursed energy into it.

Crunch.

The teeth-grinding sound of chewing echoed through the deathly silent room.

As he swallowed, an overwhelmingly suffocating surge of cursed energy erupted from Sukuna's body.

Boom!

The entire manor crumbled apart in that instant. The roof was blown away, and the walls were reduced to dust. Towering black cursed energy rose like a signal fire, piercing the heavens.

Sukuna slowly stood. His robe fluttered without wind. Megumi Fushiguro's once handsome face was now covered in black markings, and all four eyes opened at once, radiating an absolute dominance that stood above all things.

Though he lacked one finger, after devouring the remnants of his flesh, his strength had now come infinitely close to his peak from a thousand years ago—perhaps even surpassed it.

Because he now possessed the most perfect vessel and the most perfect condition.

"Feels good." Sukuna rolled his neck, his bones cracking explosively. "This body's 'rejection' has completely disappeared. Megumi Fushiguro's soul... hmph, it must have sunk into the abyss by now."

He walked to the edge of the ruins and gazed in the direction of Shinjuku.

"Satoru Gojo, and that brat called Shiyue Shuo."

An exceptionally cruel smile spread across Sukuna's face. His fingertips lightly traced the air, as though he had already touched his prey's throat.

"One month left. Enjoy the last days of your lives."

"I'll savor this feast slowly."

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