[Cilantro reserves the right to the final interpretation of this story. I have the final say on its setting, and if you want to argue, I won't listen.]
[The customary first-chapter warnings: this is my third Jujutsu Kaisen novel, following "The Fushiguro Family's Heavenly Revenge" (chaotic neutral) and "The Undying Hedonist" (chaotic evil). It continues the tradition of protagonists who aren't good people. This time, it's lawful evil.]
[Not a good person, not a good person, not a good person.]
[Don't bring your impressions of my other books into this one and expect anything in particular. Each book is an independent story, with completely different characterization and tone.]
[You don't need to force yourself to read this just because I wrote it.]
[Some deaths will be averted, but not through deliberate acts of salvation. The emotions in this book are all twisted.]
[Anyone looking for a happy ending where everyone comes together can stop here. Mountains of corpses and seas of blood are inevitable ahead.]
[I bear no particular malice toward any character. Everything plays out according to the plot's development. I respect every character and their established characterization.]
[I have the final say on all the settings in this book, though I'll also do my best to keep the Jujutsu Kaisen elements faithful to the original.]
[This chapter, posted on May 31, 2024, is a preview, not the final version. When regular serialization begins in a few days, some content may be revised, so start reading again from chapter one then. (This is sort of my way of saying that I'm not taking a break and am still writing every day.)]
[If you spot a typo, leave a comment. I check the dashboard every few dozen minutes, but it's best to tag me, since some comments get swallowed.]
[This time, the approach is different from the Fushiguro story. The starting point is that having a family doesn't necessarily mean being happy, and the damage a terrible family of origin can do.]
[This story will be a little longer, and the pacing will be relatively slower. The early part will feel somewhat oppressive. Now, let the story begin.]
His previous life had not been happy. Even in a large family with an older brother and a younger sister besides his parents, there had been no corner for him in the place they called home.
He had been conceived while his parents' relationship was strained, and even after his birth, his father had constantly suspected that he was not his biological son.
Early on, his poor grades had been used as a reason to strip him of his right to an education, forcing him to drop out and work to help support the family.
Even then, he still had to endure the other family members' "bullying."
In that inescapable den of horrors, he had grown up in silent endurance, hoping that one day he could become independent and leave.
But suffering always favored the weak. During one shift at work, he had suddenly died from extreme exhaustion.
By the time he realized he had been reincarnated, he was already a newborn baby.
Yet even in his new life in this world, he remained unloved.
The first year after his birth had been relatively better.
Tan Man was still so small, and his mother's unhealthy lifestyle and diet had left him so frail that the slightest carelessness could kill him.
[Tan Man was also the name his mother had given him. It was only a given name; she had never told him his surname.]
So during that time, his mother had always stood beside his bed, staring at him with bloodshot eyes and constantly muttering.
"You carry all my hopes. You have to grow into someone who satisfies that man. You have to make this year I sacrificed worthwhile. You have to inherit them-the excellent genes of that family." Things like that.
As time passed, Tan Man learned more from his mother.
Among other things, his mother, who worked as a bar hostess, was not Japanese. She had fled here from Germany.
According to his mother, she had fled because of the "Witch Hunt."
His maternal grandmother had been known as "the last witch of the twentieth century," so he, too, had inherited a quarter of that witch bloodline.
But even if everything his mother said was true, Tan Man felt nothing unusual about himself.
He only occasionally saw tiny ghosts that could pass through walls.
At the time, however, Tan Man did not understand what that meant.
In the days that followed, perhaps because he was growing older, or perhaps because their lives were getting worse and worse,
his mother gradually began taking her frustrations with life out on Tan Man.
She complained that giving birth to him had only made her age faster, and that raising him was the only reason she had to keep enduring a life like this.
Why couldn't he hurry up and grow into what she wanted him to be, and repay all the hardship she had endured raising him?
Tan Man did not complain. He merely endured her malice in silence.
At least compared to his previous life, he only had to bear one person's bullying now. He had long since grown used to it.
His already malnourished body was always covered in bruises.
Even so, he had no intention of giving up his life so easily. He, too, longed to live a normal life someday.
To receive normal love from his parents, like an ordinary child.
So Tan Man also actively tried to become what his mother wanted him to be.
But he had never managed to learn from her exactly what she wanted him to become.
He only had a vague understanding that it was some kind of miraculous power, and that once he obtained it, he would naturally know.
In the blink of an eye, Tan Man turned six, and he sensed that some sort of change had occurred within his body.
It felt as though, simply by reciting something, he could immediately bring about a change.
Though he was excited and wanted to show his mother right away and ask whether this was what she had been waiting for,
Tan Man still waited until the noises in his mother's room stopped and she had sent that night's guest away before cautiously pushing open her door.
He looked at his mother, who was counting banknotes in the dim room, her clothes disheveled and a cigarette dangling from her lips.
His mother did not look up. She only demanded impatiently, "What is it? Didn't I tell you not to come into my room at night? Do I have to teach you another lesson before you'll remember?"
Tan Man instinctively lowered his head and said cautiously, "Mother, I think I've felt that power you've always told me about."
At his words, his mother's hands paused briefly in counting the money, and she asked Tan Man for confirmation.
"You really felt that power?"
"Yes, Mother. I think I felt it!" Tan Man said firmly, looking at his small hands.
Hearing Tan Man's answer, his mother flung the banknotes aside and scrambled over to him.
She grabbed Tan Man's shoulders in excitement, not caring in the slightest how much pain the strength of her grip would cause a six-year-old who was nothing but skin and bones.
Naturally, she cared even less that her fingers were pressing directly against his bruises.
His mother urged him excitedly, "Quick, hurry and show me! I knew you could do it, my darling boy!"
Tan Man was also terribly excited. He felt that if he succeeded now, if he successfully lived up to his mother's expectations, their relationship would surely become as normal as anyone else's!
Tan Man raised both hands and recited the words that surfaced in his mind.
"Eight Hot Hells: Reviving Hell."
In an instant, the already cramped room exploded. Black flames from hell swallowed everything in a heartbeat, including the mother standing before Tan Man...
Before you continue