The conference room on the lowest floor of Jujutsu Headquarters at Jujutsu High.
Satoru Gojo sat in a wooden-backed chair with his long legs crossed.
Suguru Geto stood straight beside him.
Behind the screen before them, several elderly figures were faintly visible.
"Handling a Special Grade Cursed Object without authorization crosses Jujutsu Society's bottom line. Even a member of the Gojo Clan cannot behave so recklessly." The voice behind the screen strained to contain its anger.
"Where did the seal go? Why can't we detect any traces of cursed energy? What did you do to Sukuna's Finger?"
Suguru Geto maintained a mild demeanor. "We have already given our statements. The seal may have failed through natural deterioration. As for why it no longer emits cursed energy, shouldn't that fall within the Technical Department's remit?
"We went to retrieve the object, not conduct scientific analysis."
"Sophistry!" another thin, raspy voice snapped. "The night before last, every Semi-Grade 1 Cursed Spirit in that stretch of Shinjuku's sewers was wiped out.
"The residual fluctuations at the scene were identical to those from the last incident in Adachi Ward, and the object was retrieved from that same area. What exactly has that monster you're hiding been doing?"
Satoru Gojo burst out laughing in his chair.
Without giving the old men inside a chance to erupt, he strode straight up to the screen.
He looked down through the gaps at the trembling figures.
"Listen, you old fossils. Since you already know what's going on, stop beating around the bush. Want to know what Yang Jian's been up to?
"Send a few people over to ask him in person. Don't say I didn't warn you.
"He hasn't exactly been in a pleasant mood lately. That Grade 1 Sorcerer you sent to probe him last time-you didn't even recover a scrap of bone, did you?"
Every accusation behind the screen abruptly died.
After nearly half a minute of stifling silence, the raspy voice spoke again, edged with resignation and gritted teeth.
"That man is a menace who cannot be restrained by conventional reason. Involving him this deeply will sooner or later leave you with a disaster you cannot contain.
"There were casualties on an unusual scale in Nagoya two days ago. If he has so much time on his hands, hand that mess over to him. Jujutsu Headquarters will provide no assistance whatsoever."
Satoru Gojo turned his back on them and made an exceedingly childish gesture at Suguru Geto.
"If you'd been that straightforward from the start, we could've skipped all this nonsense. Geto, let's get lunch. Any later and the pork cutlets will be too tough to chew."
Once they emerged from the damp, gloomy corridor, Suguru Geto let out a breath.
"They took the bait after all."
"They were forced to." Satoru Gojo kept both hands in his pockets. "They're afraid of him, but they're also counting on him to clean things up."
Just as they reached the junction by Jujutsu High's open grounds, Yang Jian approached from the opposite direction.
He held an old flip phone, flipped open as he checked a message with no identifiable place of origin.
After reading it, he casually slipped it into his trouser pocket.
The sender was a string of garbled characters.
The message was brief.
[Abandoned chemical warehouse, Atsuta Ward, Nagoya City, Aichi Prefecture. A Semi-Special Grade cursed energy response appeared two hours ago. Widespread dehydration has been reported among nearby residents. Contact has been lost with the two locally stationed Assistant Managers and a Grade 1 Sorcerer. Jujutsu Headquarters has sealed off the perimeter, deliberately suppressed requests for assistance, and named you as the primary collaborator.]
It was a tip from Shiu Kong.
Yang Jian switched off the screen and casually pocketed the phone.
They were using someone else to do their killing.
The old fossils at Jujutsu Headquarters not only wanted to test his limits, but also intended to wear him down with a high-grade cursed spirit.
They had laid their scheme out in the open, not even bothering to conceal it.
The system needed points. He had no reason to turn away a high-yield cash machine delivered right to his doorstep.
He stopped.
A slit opened in the flesh at the center of his forehead, and red light spread outward through it.
Before the fallen leaves around him could reach the ground, he was already gone.
The abandoned chemical warehouse in Atsuta Ward, Nagoya.
Pitch-black rain hammered the damaged sheet-metal roof. The yellow-and-black police tape strung around the site had long since warped out of shape.
A black Veil, like an enormous overturned pot, isolated the factory grounds.
The temperature was extremely low.
Thick, dark gray gelatinous matter coated the walls.
Two bodies in Jujutsu High uniforms hung upside down from a steel frame, their flesh shriveled and clinging dryly to their bones.
At the center of the grounds, a spherical cursed spirit covered in dozens of dehydrated human faces crouched on the ground, making shrill chewing noises.
The remains of more than a dozen ordinary residents lay scattered around it.
It was a Quasi-Special Grade Imaginary Vengeful Spirit, born from years of fear and resentment and catalyzed by the loosening of a Special Grade seal.
On a second-floor sheet-metal walkway less than fifty meters from the cursed spirit, a bespectacled man in a suit lay gasping on the floor. Beside him stood a specialized cursed energy recording device, its lens aimed below.
He was an observer planted here by Jujutsu Headquarters, code-named Crow.
His assignment was to record Yang Jian's entire battle with the cursed spirit.
He should have used a Cursed Tool to withdraw once the recording began, but a pitch-black gelatinous barrier had already sealed off his escape route.
Below, the cursed spirit covered in human faces stopped chewing. Several of its distorted faces abruptly turned, their hollow eye sockets fixing on the second-floor walkway.
He had been spotted.
Crow trembled violently, both hands clutching a low-grade escape talisman.
It was useless. This was a Semi-Special Grade.
Without any warning.
The surrounding space changed color.
It did not darken. Instead, an impossibly thick crimson directly replaced the visible air.
The rain stopped in midair, its downward trajectories forcibly frozen.
No one present saw how Yang Jian appeared.
He stood out of thin air directly above the Quasi-Special Grade Cursed Spirit.
No cursed energy. No hand signs.
Crow stared fixedly at the recording screen.
This was the perfect opportunity to become a trusted confidant of the higher-ups. He had to record the medium used to activate the cursed technique.
Below, the cursed spirit let out an exceptionally piercing shriek. Its enormous body abruptly swelled, its mouth gaping open as densely packed pillars of black cursed energy shot skyward toward Yang Jian.
The red light surged back.
When the pillars, powerful enough to melt through steel, touched the edge of the red light, they failed to stir even the slightest ripple.
The ghost domain forcibly intercepted and swallowed every attack.
Yang Jian planted one foot in empty space, then dropped straight down.
Before his foot touched the cursed spirit, the shadow on the ground moved first.
A pitch-black, faceless shadow with grotesquely elongated limbs rose in defiance of gravity.
Ghost Shadow ignored the thick layer of corrosive resentment. Two enormous, solid black hands clamped precisely onto the spherical cursed spirit's torso from either side.
A sharp sound like tearing fabric drowned out the rain.
Without the slightest chance to resist, the Quasi-Special Grade Cursed Spirit had its prized cursed energy armor and enormous body ripped in half by Ghost Shadow's utterly primal violence.
Foul-smelling blood poured down, stopped outside the red light.
[Quasi-Special Grade Cursed Spirit death detected. Points gained: 800.]
Yang Jian stepped into the wreckage and casually kicked away a blackened piece of dry wood that had fallen from the cursed spirit's body.
A worthless Cursed Object. It could not be exchanged for points through the system.
He turned his head, his gaze passing across dozens of meters of factory space to settle on the second-floor walkway.
Crow sucked in a sharp breath.
That emotionless crimson eye was staring at him.
Run!
That was the only thought in his mind.
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