Almost as soon as the domains dissipated, the fluctuations of cursed energy across the city reached their peak.
An icy sense of rules instantly blanketed every corner of Shibuya, and fine tremors spread along the boundaries of souls.
Kenjaku had used those five minutes of fighting to officially launch the Culling Game.
Qingxiao stood at the edge of the battlefield, his expression slightly grim.
He clearly sensed the enormous scale of the cursed technique, and his heart sank.
Kenjaku's handiwork.
The timing was too precise, falling exactly when the domains clashed and both men's cursed techniques were at their weakest.
They seemed to have held every advantage in this joint assault, but in truth, they had still played into the enemy's calculations.
Yet he did not let himself get distracted for even a moment, his gaze fixed firmly on Sukuna in the center of the dust.
Deal with what's in front of us first. Worry about the rest later.
Before the dust had fully cleared, Qingxiao charged.
Without Dismantle and Cleave holding him back, he no longer had any reservations in his assault.
Every blow carried tremendous force, his movements sweeping and powerful, every strike heavy and fierce.
His fists blasted a continuous series of dull booms through the air, and the ground beneath him cracked in spreading layers with every step.
Sukuna barely managed to block, but with his broken bones still unhealed and his cursed energy in disarray, he was outmatched in strength, speed, and endurance alike.
After exchanging only seven or eight moves, he understood the situation. He had no chance of winning if the fight continued.
His thousand years of pride would not allow him to beg pathetically for mercy, but even less would it allow him to take a losing deal.
Using the recoil from