Conspiracy

Four people sat together in a corner booth of a family restaurant somewhere in Tokyo.

To ordinary people, only a black-haired man in Buddhist robes sat there, a line of stitches across his forehead, leisurely sipping ice water.

But through the eyes of a Jujutsu Sorcerer, three other "creatures" of different shapes sat in the booth.

One was a Cursed Spirit with a head like a volcanic crater-Jogo.

One was a Cursed Spirit with a humanoid body bearing branches and flowers-Hanami.

Another was a Cursed Spirit that resembled a juvenile sea creature-Dagon.

And then there was the man smiling at the head of the table-Suguru Geto.

Or rather, Kenjaku, wearing Suguru Geto's skin.

"True humans?"

Kenjaku set down his glass and watched the agitated Jogo with interest.

Blazing flames burned in Jogo's eye. He clenched his fists and lowered his voice.

"Yes. Humans conceal their hatred, murderous intent, jealousy, greed... all those negative emotions.

"They put on false masks, pretending to be friendly, pretending to be noble, pretending to be civilized."

His voice was full of contempt.

"But those emotions are unquestionably real! They're part of their souls! And we-Cursed Spirits born from those negative emotions-are rightfully the true humans!

"We never conceal our desires or disguise our malice. We exist in our truest forms!"

"And those hypocritical impostors wearing masks should be exterminated! This world should be ruled by the true 'humans'-us!"

Kenjaku listened quietly, a gentle smile on his lips the entire time.

Only after Jogo finished did he applaud softly.

"A wonderful speech. But, Jogo-"

He leaned forward, folded his hands on the table, and narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Aren't you 'true humans' being exterminated by those 'impostors'?"

Jogo's expression froze.

"That's why I came to ask you!" Jogo roared in a hushed voice. "How can we defeat the Jujutsu Sorcerers?"

Kenjaku leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the tabletop as though thinking.

"It's simple," he finally said, his voice calm. "You only need to meet two conditions."

"What conditions?"

"First," Kenjaku raised one finger, "render humanity's strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer, Satoru Gojo, unable to fight. As long as he's around, you have no chance of winning.

"He's the 'ceiling' of this era, an absolute presence looming over everyone-Cursed Spirits and Jujutsu Sorcerers alike."

"Second," Kenjaku raised another finger, "win over Ryomen Sukuna, meaning Yuji Itadori. Sukuna is the King of Curses, the strongest Cursed Spirit from a thousand years ago. If he joins you, the balance will be completely shattered."

Jogo frowned. "Wait, isn't Yuji Itadori dead? The news came out just a few days ago. Sukuna's vessel was confirmed dead, and Satoru Gojo even disposed of the body."

Kenjaku smiled, a trace of deeper meaning in his smile.

"Heh, not necessarily."

Jogo froze, the flames in his eye flickering uncertainly.

"You mean... he's still alive? The news of his death was fake?"

"Most likely." Kenjaku took a sip of water. "But that's only natural. The Higher-Ups of Jujutsu Society want to kill Itadori, and Satoru Gojo wants to protect him. The best solution is to fake his death and slip away. Itadori must be hidden somewhere now, training in secret and waiting for the right moment."

He paused, then his eyes brightened slightly, as though he had suddenly remembered something.

"However, there is a second plan."

"Then hurry up and tell me," Jogo urged.

Kenjaku looked at Jogo, a hint of amusement entering his smile.

"This plan... should be almost impossible to carry out. Win over another Jujutsu Sorcerer-Madara Uchiha."

"Madara Uchiha?" Jogo frowned. "Who's that? Never heard of him."

"One of Satoru Gojo's students, a second-year at Tokyo Jujutsu High," Kenjaku said, his tone as casual as if he were introducing a new dish.

"Sixteen years old. He's been enrolled for less than a year and already possesses Special Grade strength. Immense potential, astonishing growth. Most importantly-he has serious psychological problems."

He paused and shook his head.

"But never mind. Forget I said anything. We'll discard that plan. Too many uncertainties."

Jogo stared at Kenjaku for a few seconds before finally giving up on asking further.

"I see... then our target now is Satoru Gojo, right? Once we deal with him, no one among the Jujutsu Sorcerers can threaten us."

"In theory." Kenjaku nodded. "But putting it into practice... I'd advise you not to get any ideas. You could all end up being killed."

A trace of defiance flashed in Jogo's eye.

"Not even if we all attack together? If we gang up on him alone, we still can't win?"

Kenjaku smiled, a hint of pity in his smile.

"One or two of you might escape, but defeat him? Impossible."

He leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"So the best approach isn't to 'kill' him, but to 'seal' him. Remove him from the board."

"Seal him?" Jogo's eye lit up. "How?"

"Using the Special Grade Cursed Object, the Prison Realm."

"The Prison Realm?!"

Jogo shot to his feet, the flames in his eye burning fiercely as a small spurt of lava erupted from the crater on his head.

The restaurant's temperature instantly rose several degrees.

The manager was wiping glasses behind the counter when he suddenly felt unusually hot.

He looked up at the air-conditioning vent, then at the thermometer.

"Strange. The air conditioner should be on. Is it broken?"

Muttering, he swept his gaze across the restaurant, finally settling on the corner booth.

The man in Buddhist robes was taking up a table for four by himself. He had been sitting there for almost half an hour but had only ordered a glass of ice water.

The manager frowned, set down his glass, and walked over.

"Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt." Standing beside the booth, he forced a professional smile.

"Have you decided what you'd like to order? We require a minimum purchase of one drink per person. If you're not going to order..."

His words stopped.

Because he saw the man in Buddhist robes look up and give him a faint smile.

It was a gentle smile, but for some reason, the manager felt a chill shoot up his spine.

Then he smelled something burning.

Looking down, he saw tiny sparks rising from his arm, though he had no idea when they had appeared.

The sparks spread rapidly, turning into little flames, and the little flames became a blaze-

"Aaaah!!!"

The scream lasted only half a second.

The manager's entire body became a charred skeleton.

The whole process took less than three seconds, so fast that the other customers had not even reacted.

Kenjaku glanced at Jogo, his tone calm. "Hey, don't draw too much attention."

Jogo sat down without a care, his single eye brimming with excitement.

"It doesn't matter. They're just a bunch of impostors."

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

With that crisp snap, the bodies of every customer and employee in the restaurant burst into flames at once.

Screams, sobs, the clatter of overturning tables and chairs, the shattering of glass-the entire restaurant instantly became hell.

People rolled on the floor, trying to put out the fires on their bodies, but the flames seemed alive. Nothing they did could extinguish them.

In little more than ten seconds, everyone had been reduced to charcoal.

The restaurant fell silent.

Only scorch marks, overturned tables and chairs, broken tableware, and the smell of burnt flesh hanging in the air remained.

Kenjaku watched it all without any change in expression, as though those who had just burned to death had been ants rather than living people.

Jogo panted with excitement, flames blazing in his single eye.

"Geto... how many of Sukuna's fingers am I worth now?"

Kenjaku studied him and thought for a few seconds.

"Hmm... a generous estimate would be eight or nine."

"That's enough!" Jogo clenched his fists. "Then I'll kill Satoru Gojo for you! Give me the Prison Realm. I want it for my collection-the object that seals the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer. What a perfect trophy!"

Kenjaku looked at Jogo, the smile slowly disappearing from his face.

"You'll die," he said softly, his tone as calm as though stating a fact.

"As you are now, your chances of beating Satoru Gojo are less than ten percent, while your chance of dying is-one hundred percent."

Jogo stared at him. The flames in his single eye flickered, then slowly settled.

He remained silent for more than ten seconds before finally baring his teeth in a savage grin.

"Heh. How will I know unless I try?"

He stood, scorching air erupting from his crater.

"I'll go find Satoru Gojo. If I win, the Prison Realm is mine. If I lose..."

He paused and looked at Kenjaku.

"Then carry on with your plan over my ashes."

With that, he turned and strode out of the restaurant.

Kenjaku sat alone in the booth, looking at the devastated restaurant, at the blackened marks on the floor, and at Jogo's retreating figure outside the window.

He picked up his glass and took a sip. The ice water had already grown warm.

"Foolish."

He spoke softly, then set down the glass, stood, straightened his robes, and headed for the door as well.

At the doorway, he stopped and glanced back at the restaurant.

"How tragic~"