The three had just exorcised a Special Grade Cursed Spirit. Their nerves had relaxed but had yet to settle completely, and they were still immersed in the brief joy and exhaustion of completing their mission when-
A voice so calm it was almost gentle came from behind them without warning.
"Yes, thank you for your hard work."
The voice carried the composure of an elder pleased with the younger generation's growth, mingled with a condescending indifference.
All three instantly stiffened as though frozen.
Their combat instincts made them whip around almost simultaneously, their gazes sharp as lightning as they locked onto the source of the voice.
A dark Monk's Robe, long black hair hanging loose, a conspicuous, eerie line of stitches across his forehead, and a face wearing a gentle smile.
The thousand-year-old Curse User wearing Suguru Geto's skin-
Kenjaku.
Megumi Fushiguro's pupils abruptly shrank to pinpoints, and his heart felt as though an invisible hand had seized it!
This guy is-!?
When did he get here!? We didn't notice him at all!
Nobara Kugisaki's hair stood on end as well. Her grip on her hammer instantly tightened, her knuckles turning white.
She felt only a bone-chilling cold shooting up her spine to the top of her head.
His presence... was completely concealed?
Yuji Itadori tilted his head slightly, undisguised confusion and wariness appearing on his face.
"Who... are you?" Itadori asked gravely, frowning.
He was certain he had never seen this person before.
Yet the man's greeting sounded so natural and familiar, as though they were old acquaintances, and even carried a hint of something... uncomfortable.
Kenjaku's gaze passed over the rigid Fushiguro and Kugisaki before finally settling on Itadori.
"That doesn't matter," Kenjaku said softly, as though soothing a sulking child.
"What matters is that it's time to