"Lord Dio, are you serious? This many people?" Toshihisa Negi could barely keep his composure. "...Never mind. I think I'll sit this one out."
Dio explained:
"When I said we'd 'go together,' I didn't mean everyone at once. We'll split into two groups.
Once we've captured two special grade cursed spirits in total, or need a break from the rigors of travel, we'll return and switch out-the people who stayed behind can take over the trip.
Our first destination is India. After acquiring the legendary 'Elephant God,' we'll head for continental Europe.
Our first stop will be the area around Austria and Hungary. If we find nothing, we'll move on to Germany and Switzerland.
According to the legends, 'Werewolf' may appear in France, Serbia, Bohemia, and Hungary, while 'Vampire' may be found in Germany, Austria, and Romania.
These countries aren't all adjacent, so we'll explore them in order of proximity."
"According to historical records, the fifteenth-century king of Hungary, Sigismund-who later became the German monarch of the Holy Roman Empire-persuaded the Church to formally acknowledge the existence of werewolves at the council of 1414."
Larue piped up with some background information.
"When I was little, my parents also told me stories about werewolves carrying children off at night. Hungary really does have a fairly high chance of producing werewolf-type cursed spirits."
"You know that much? In that case, you go this time, and I'll go next time." Miguel raised an eyebrow at Larue.
"Sure." Larue crossed his thumb and index finger into a little heart.
Meanwhile, the sisters stared at their "romantic rival," Manami, and spoke in unison:
"Nanako and Mimiko-"
"Only act together."
"Then do you want to go to India?" Suguru Geto gently stroked the tops of both girls' heads.
"No." ×2
"Oh, so in the end, it's still just us four grown men—plus Manami?" Riku said with a wry smile.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Manami gave him a gentle "smile of death."
"Ahaha—nothing wrong with it at all." Riku laughed mechanically.
After a brief night's rest, the group set out for Tokyo's Narita Airport early the next morning.
Following a seven-and-a-half-hour flight, their plane landed at Indira Gandhi International Airport just as dusk fell.
Dio looked down through the window. The setting sun painted Delhi's skyline in a gradient of molten gold and deep violet, with the silhouettes of ancient minarets interspersed among modern glass facades in the twilight.
"India is a living fossil of cursed spirit studies. Its legends span thousands of years, and with a population of well over a billion, every river, every temple, even every street and alley could be nurturing high-grade cursed spirits."
Suguru Geto spoke quietly as they waited in the immigration line.
"According to the theories of Jujutsu Society, imaginary vengeful spirits born from legendary figures, or conceptual cursed spirits arising from negative emotions, include:
Vampire, Werewolf, capitalism, the stock market, Gambling, Typhoon, Working, Schooling, Poverty, Nuclear Power, Love, Guns, war, Plague, death, Famine...
All of these have the potential to give rise to special grade cursed spirits.
So we might encounter some 'surprises' along the way that weren't in our intelligence.
I think that if a 'Poverty' cursed spirit really exists, India would certainly be one of its possible habitats."
He had changed out of his signature five-strip kasaya for this trip.
Considering India's perpetually hot, humid climate and questionable sanitation, he had chosen the black straight-cut robe and loose harem pants he had favored during his Jujutsu High days, with his long hair tied loosely behind his head.
He looked considerably more relaxed.
"Sounds like we could come away with quite a haul, then?" Dio asked.
"Let's hope so. Provided the local Jujutsu Society doesn't interfere..." Suguru Geto narrowed his eyes slightly. "I wonder how capable they are."
Outside the airport, a wave of heat swept over them, carrying the scents of spices, exhaust fumes, and unidentified flowers.
Larue expertly hailed two yellow vintage Ambassador taxis.
Designed in the 1950s, these cars were still a mainstay on Delhi's streets, like moving time capsules stubbornly preserving the rhythm of bygone days.
"Shall we get settled at the hotel first, then try some authentic local food?"
Larue opened the front passenger door and looked back with a smile.
"I know of a century-old restaurant near Connaught Place that serves butter chicken. I heard someone praising it in conversation once, but I'd never had the chance to come to India. Want to give it a try later?"
"Sounds good!" Toshihisa Negi gave him a thumbs-up, briskly pulled open the rear door, and ducked inside.
The engine rumbled with age, and the car pulled away first, slowly merging into the surging traffic outside the airport.
In another country, even the rhythm in the air was entirely different. Watching the passing streets outside the airport, Suguru Geto briefly fell into a dazed melancholy.
"Geto, what's with that expression?" Dio asked casually.
"Nothing."
Suguru Geto came back to himself and shook his head gently.
"Maybe I've just gotten used to spending every day on edge, constantly working my brain.
Letting myself relax completely like this, doing nothing but 'traveling' and 'catching cursed spirits'...
Honestly, I'm not quite used to it.
I keep finding myself thinking about what other problems are waiting for me to solve."
"Unfortunately, as things stand, it seems every problem already has a satisfactory solution."
Dio's tone was light.
"There's nothing wrong with taking a break. If you work yourself into the ground every day, your body will give out sooner or later."
After one last look at the colorful streets, Geto said with feeling, "Yes, let's go! It's been ages since I traveled this casually!"
Just then, Manami gently linked her arm through Suguru Geto's-in the past, he had usually been the one to put an arm around her waist, but this time, she reached out first.
She actually had no interest in fighting Jujutsu Society to the death-or rather, all the officers had gathered because of Suguru Geto himself, with ideals and platforms coming second.
Neither of them was all that young anymore.
Perhaps... this extraordinary trip abroad would offer a chance for certain unresolved relationships to finally fall into place?
"People who can't make time for fun will eventually have to make time for illness. Don't forget, you're still young."
Glancing at the pair and their unspoken understanding, Dio delivered his pointed assessment, then took the taxi's front passenger seat first.
"Heh, then I'll have to ask you to teach me properly." Geto couldn't help laughing as he pulled Manami into the back seat.
Their hotel stood on the outskirts of Connaught Place, its colonial-era exterior concealing modern facilities that barely met the standard.
The room assignments were simple: Suguru Geto and Manami shared one room ("To make discussing tactics easier," as Geto put it), Toshihisa Negi and Larue shared another, and Dio had a suite to himself-its window faced the circular garden at the center of the square.
By the time they had settled in, it was eight in the evening. The group walked to a restaurant near the hotel.
At the entrance, a thick, deep-red sauce bubbled in a large brass pot, its powerful aroma taking over the entire street.
The place was crowded, but the food arrived fairly quickly once they were seated.
"Lord Dio, try this." Larue wrapped a sauce-covered piece of butter chicken in flatbread and handed it to Dio. "The essence of Indian cuisine lies in the balance of spices."
Dio took a bite. The rich, mellow cream and tomato base melted across his tongue, followed by distinct layers of turmeric, cumin, cloves, cardamom...
Finally, an almost imperceptible hint of heat burned gently at the back of his throat.
"Interesting indeed," he remarked. "The flavor isn't one-dimensional. It unfolds layer by layer. Like... learning jujutsu from scratch."
Manami sipped her mango lassi and glanced thoughtfully at her phone. "According to the description on Google Maps, the chef's family supposedly used to serve the Mughal court."
"Royal chefs?" Toshihisa Negi picked up a piece of spice-grilled fish, sounding skeptical.
"It really is good," Suguru Geto said, wrapping some food in flatbread as well. "Even if they're exaggerating, it doesn't matter."
"But the hygiene—" Riku had taken a curious peek into the kitchen earlier, and now that he was back, his gaze inevitably grew complicated as he looked at the food on the table.
"I brought plenty of stomach medicine."
Manami herself actually ate very little, taking only a small taste of each dish.
"Don't forget we also have Reverse Cursed Technique. So don't worry. The food won't kill you."
"I... you... I..."
Toshihisa Negi opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. After a long moment, he waved a hand in frustration, his expression beneath the bandages almost contorted.
"Oh, come on! That's not what I meant!"
Thinking of all the horrific scenes he had watched on YouTube of mukbang streamers turning into "human pressure washers," he seemed to put on a mask of agony, even his shoulders drooping involuntarily.
Before you continue