Regarding Gojo Satoru Almost Publicizing My Browsing History, I Decided to Tear Apart a Special Grade

On the outskirts of Tokyo stood an abandoned sanatorium. Its moss-covered corridors reeked of decay.

"Makoto, although you're the type who's 'talented at everything as long as it isn't proper work,' if you fail your Grade 2 promotion test, I, your teacher, will print out every single webpage you've browsed over the past month and pin it to the bulletin board in the school cafeteria."

After leaving behind a threat enough to make any decent young man commit suicide on the spot, Gojo Satoru casually carried off the Kikufuku he had just bought and disappeared beyond the Jujutsu barrier—the "Curtain."

"Hey! That's an invasion of privacy! That's blatant workplace bullying, Gojo-sensei!"

Mizuki Makoto screamed desperately at the pitch-black curtain. Just thinking about those searches for material on [Succubus Gojo Mai], along with all the [obscure antisocial knowledge] he had looked up to become stronger, being pinned to the bulletin board...

"Absolutely not! Is my innocence going to end before it even begins?!"

He wiped the cold sweat from his face and looked around.

According to Jujutsu High's pre-battle assessment, the highest possible Cursed Spirit grade here was only "Grade 2." The condition for lifting this Curtain was also unusually straightforward: [It will automatically dissolve when no Cursed Spirits remain inside.]

Three minutes later.

With a dull explosion, the mission target—a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit resembling a giant centipede—was blasted into fragments by his crooked Blue-infused punch.

"Phew... job done."

Mizuki Makoto clapped his hands and was just about to turn around and leave when the smile on his face abruptly froze.

The pitch-black, tar-like "Curtain" above him remained completely motionless.

"...Hey, Gojo-sensei? This prank isn't funny at all."

Mizuki Makoto's heartbeat began to accelerate.

If the barrier had not lifted, it meant there was still a Cursed Spirit here. And Jujutsu High's intelligence system would never make a mistake over something as trivial as a "Grade 2 test."

Unless... an outside malice had entered this place, one that even Gojo Satoru's Six Eyes had failed to notice.

"Sp... Special Grade?! Wh-what do you mean?! I'm fighting a Special Grade Cursed Spirit? Me!?"

When that twisted stitched-together abomination, radiating a nauseating stench, stepped out from the remains of the Grade 2 Cursed Spirit, Mizuki Makoto's legs immediately began to tremble.

Gojo Satoru! You white-haired idiot! Are those Six Eyes worth billions just there to serve as light bulbs?!

He roared in his heart, nearly collapsing.

You didn't notice a monster this absurd falling into the barrier? If you wanted to kill me, just say so! You didn't need to arrange some "accident," damn it!

The claws were already upon him. Mizuki Makoto, hopeless at hand-to-hand combat, could not dodge with his body or Limitless as Gojo Satoru could. He could only condense all of that less-than-one-percent [Gojo Satoru's Power] over the surface of his body.

Boom—!!

The first blow was blocked by Infinity. Yet Mizuki Makoto's face instantly turned deathly pale.

No... the cost of maintaining this defense is astronomical! Against a monster at this level, the second punch will turn me into pulp!

He tried to counterattack, but at this point, he simply could not project [Blue] remotely. That mass of attraction clung to his fist like a ten-thousand-pound magnet, making every punch feel as though he were fighting against the rotation of the entire planet.

Even a fist augmented with Blue can't kill this thing, unless...

He could not run, and he could not win.

Inside this black box, where electronic signals were cut off and Gojo Satoru was kept outside, the touch of death felt so real it made him want to vomit.

—If he had been any other Grade 3 Sorcerer, that was!

As a transmigrator, as a "fraud" and "rumormonger," he had long prepared his final self-rescue procedure in order to avoid being beaten to death by his victims someday when his lies were exposed.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The rusty industrial water pump went mad under the interference of cursed energy, slamming violently as the heavy metal roars nearly shattered Mizuki Makoto's eardrums.

With his back against the trembling pump, he watched the lumbering yet overwhelmingly oppressive stitched monster and revealed a crazed, twisted smile toward the watchful eyeball hidden in the shadow of a corridor pillar.

Question: Why did Mizuki Makoto publicly claim that his technique was [Echo Mimicry]?

There were two reasons. The most important one was naturally to conceal the truth of [Limitless] and avoid being humanely eliminated by enraged victims.

The other reason was precisely to deal with this desperate situation—

[Echo Mimicry] itself was also a "rumor," and a [Lie] that had fooled the entire Jujutsu Society, even Gojo Satoru, the "strongest."

And under the rules of Limitless, [an absolute lie] would become [an absolute truth]!

[Technique Disclosure]

"My technique—its name is [Limitless]."

"Its core is—turning falsehood into reality."

[—Technique Disclosure: Binding Vow established.]

[Limitless efficiency—120%]

[Echo Mimicry—Available for use]

At that moment, the lie was given a soul.

To complement Gojo-sensei's Limitless power, I have two suitable techniques to mimic—should I use [Star's Fury], the one most compatible with Blue and most capable of killing it in one strike...? No. I can't launch Blue like that white-haired bastard can. With my current ability, if I load both Blue and Star's Fury onto my fist at once, I won't be able to control them. I'll get dragged in and shredded too. In that case, there's only that—

Uro Takako, if I survive this, I'll repay you someday and make Okkotsu give your arm back!

[Echo Mimicry—Technique: Ushura Bullet]

The instant the Special Grade Cursed Spirit smashed through the iron door, Mizuki Makoto did not retreat. Instead, he raised a hand toward its fist in a posture so bizarre and twisted that no ordinary person could imagine it—

He abruptly stopped his forward momentum, planted both feet firmly into the ground, and bent his entire body backward to an extreme angle like an alloy sheet forcibly warped by two giant hands. His spine let out a piercing scrape beneath the unbearable pressure, as though it would snap at any moment.

He extended his right hand into the air, not to attack, but to precisely "grab" a patch of atmosphere before him.

His left arm, with Blue stuck to it, was rigidly held flat before his chest, pointing directly at the Cursed Spirit's forehead.

[Technique Stitching: Loading.]

[Using Ushura Bullet's properties to solidify space and create a directional "space bow"!]

[Operation: Use Ushura Bullet's curved extension to create a directional rail!]

"This is Blue Resonance."

Mizuki Makoto clenched his left hand into a fist. An extremely unstable blue glow flickered over it, even devouring the flesh of his hand in backlash—that was [Blue], which could not leave his body.

The instant the "space bow" drawn open by his right hand reached its limit, he used the elasticity of space to "fire" his entire left arm, along with that destructive mass of attraction, like a cannonball!

Boom—!!

The price came instantly.

He had no method to control [Blue] after it left his body. At the moment the attraction was violently dragged away by the spatial rail, the flesh of his entire left forearm was forcibly stripped away, pulverized, and sucked into that blue light.

White bone was exposed, and blood sprayed wildly. The agonizing neural pain pierced through Mizuki Makoto's consciousness like high-voltage electricity.

Boom—!!

That inferior [Blue], mixed with scraps of flesh and blood, produced an incomprehensible spatial collapse effect after being accelerated through the "spatial rail."

What had originally been only an inferior version of [Blue] generated a spatial collapse effect similar to a supersonic shockwave after being accelerated and amplified by the "spatial rail."

The Special Grade Cursed Spirit's powerful torso was crushed into atom-level dust the instant it touched that layer of "overlapping space," as the pressure surged tens of thousands of times in a single moment.

Space looked like a torn oil painting, leaving several horrifying black fissures throughout the pump room. The terrifying directed gravity did not weaken after tearing apart the Cursed Spirit. Accompanied by a shriek of ripping space, it slammed fiercely into the inner wall of the Curtain!

"Crack—!"

The barrier, set up by the assistant supervisor and supposedly unbreakable, shattered from the inside like fragile glass under that blow.

"..."

Mizuki Makoto stared at the dissolving black fragments overhead and the figure of the white-haired man appearing in the sky. There was only one thought in his mind:

White-haired idiot, you owe me triple compensation for workplace injuries this time!

Gojo Satoru had originally been sitting atop a distant signal tower, eating Kikufuku. His pale blue Six Eyes suddenly contracted as he stared fixedly at the breach that had been violently blasted open by an external force.

The instant the barrier collapsed, he crossed space and landed in the center of the ruins.

"That is..."

Pulling down his blindfold, his pale blue Six Eyes instantly captured the details among the wreckage.

He extended a finger and pinched an extremely thin "stitching thread" from the air, one carrying the aura of Cursed Spirit Manipulation.

"Geto Suguru... so that's how it is."

Gojo Satoru's tone dropped to freezing point.

He understood immediately: Cursed Spirit Manipulation had been used to forcibly stitch a high-grade cursed womb into the body of a low-grade Cursed Spirit. The overlapping information of the two layers of cursed energy had concealed its true aura, perfectly deceiving even his Six Eyes.

Then Gojo Satoru looked toward Mizuki Makoto, who lay in a pool of blood.

The boy had completely passed out from the agony. His left hand, reduced to exposed bone, was a horrific sight. In the air lingered traces of extremely inefficient yet strangely fused "spatial resonance."

"This unreasonable spatial thickness..."

Gojo Satoru pulled down his blindfold and looked at the trail of that "spatial rail," as though space itself had been violently kneaded and twisted.

He crouched before the ruins and looked at Mizuki Makoto, unconscious after enduring tremendous pressure, his right arm split open and mangled.

What a strange operational path.

Gojo Satoru swiftly reached an understanding in his mind: Because his cursed energy control is too imprecise to project it remotely with accuracy like I can, he had no choice but to use that crude technique of grabbing space, treating his own body as a launcher and forcibly catapulting Blue outward just to survive?

Even the barrier was shattered by that inefficient and heavy "violent stacking."

What a... crazy and clumsy student.

"Since you fought this desperately," Gojo Satoru said as he lifted the boy and looked at his paper-white face, letting out a helpless sigh, "I'll let you off the hook for the 'Gojo Mai R18 books' and 'browsing history' for now."

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