It was 8:10 p.m.
Satoru Gojo entered the Curtain.
The air felt heavier than outside, carrying an oppressive weight he couldn't quite describe.
He stood on the streets of Shibuya, surveying his surroundings: deserted streets, darkened neon signs, and the occasional muffled cry from afar, quickly swallowed by the silence. He tilted his head, his hands in his pockets, and complained with a hint of nonchalance.
"What a pain. Are they inside the subway station?"
The moment he entered, he sensed two distinct sources of Cursed Energy, one scorching and volatile, the other steady and cold. They had to be the one-eyed freak and the stick-eyed one.
He set off, strolling into the subway station, his shoes tapping against the steps at an unhurried pace.
The subway station was packed. This wasn't an ordinary crowd, but panicked civilians trapped inside the Curtain. They crowded the corridors, the platforms, and the ticket machines. Some crouched in corners with their hands over their heads; others ran around like headless chickens.
Satoru Gojo squeezed through the crowd, his white hair especially conspicuous beneath the dim lights. His expression remained relaxed, as though he were browsing an overcrowded supermarket.
Suddenly, a surge of Cursed Energy appeared behind him.
Jogo had struck first. A thin film of Domain Amplification coated his fist, a means of neutralizing Limitless that Kenjaku had taught him.
His fist shot straight toward the back of Satoru Gojo's head with tremendous force, but failed to connect.
Satoru Gojo didn't even turn around. He merely dipped his head slightly, and the fist remained blocked, unable to touch even a strand of his white hair. He had deliberately increased Limitless's output, and the film of Domain Amplification couldn't fully neutralize the barrier he had strengthened to its utmost. The fist stopped a few