Satoru Gojo narrowed his eyes.
His gaze swept over the two cursed spirits, still drooling, their brains stalled.
Now he only needed to finish these two off to ease much of the burden. He began walking slowly forward, his soles making sticky slapping sounds in the pools of blood on the platform.
Provided no other curse users interfered.
"Prison Realm, open."
A low, calm voice came from behind him. Gojo stopped dead, his azure pupils contracting sharply amid the bloodshed.
The Prison Realm-of course he knew what it was. Almost the instant he heard those words, his body reacted. His muscles tensed, strength surged through his legs, and he prepared to sprint out of its effective range as fast as he could.
But-
"Hey, Satoru."
The voice came again. Familiar, gentle, with a touch of casual indifference. Gojo looked back. A figure in black Buddhist robes stood nearby, raising a hand slightly as though greeting an old friend he hadn't seen in years. That face, that smile, that posture-it was Suguru Geto.
No, it wasn't Suguru Geto. Gojo's Six Eyes told him that the cursed energy, the cursed technique, every physiological trait of this body pointed to Suguru Geto, but something deeper was frantically sounding an alarm.
It wasn't him. This wasn't him.
His muscles tensed to their limit in an instant. He pushed off hard, shooting toward the edge of the Prison Realm's range like an arrow loosed from a bow.
He moved so fast that the air tore with a shrill sonic boom. He could feel the invisible boundary just ahead. All he needed was one more step-
A magnetic field blanketed the entire Shibuya battlefield.
Blue-white light erupted from thin air, like an invisible giant hand pressing down from the sky and seizing the entire space in