[Satoru Gojo stood rigidly in place, slowly raising his hand to touch the bead of cold sweat sliding down his temple with faintly trembling fingertips.]
[Honestly, for the prodigy with the Six Eyes who had stood at the pinnacle of Jujutsu Society since birth, this was the first time in his life he had experienced this sensation so clearly, so tangibly: death's icy breath against the back of his neck, as though deathly silence had seized his soul-the feeling of being infinitely close to death.]
[Even now, that lingering shudder of fear still surged wildly through his chest like a tsunami, making his heart pound with unprecedented ferocity.]
[Although, on a rational, subjective level, Satoru Gojo did not think you, Li Shunchen, would actually kill him during this spar on the sports field.]
[But that lethal strike, which had crossed space without warning, had been far more dangerous than any threat his body had encountered in his previous decade and more of life.]
[It had forcibly activated the primal survival instincts buried deep within him, instincts even he had thought would never awaken.]
[Now, he lowered his head and, even through his dark sunglasses, discovered with some bewilderment that both his hands were trembling uncontrollably.]
[This physiological fear, which he could not fully suppress through willpower, made his own body feel unfamiliar to him for the first time.]
[And Suguru Geto, standing nearby, was doing no better than Satoru Gojo.]
[A bean-sized bead of cold sweat slid straight down his temple, following his chin before dripping onto his collar.]
[After all, he was not Satoru Gojo. He did not have that cheat, the Six Eyes, which could perceive every flow of cursed energy in the world.]
[Suguru Geto fearfully retraced that instant and realized with horror that his perception of