Pain.
Unbearable pain.
A pain so great that even death felt merciful compared to it.
Shinzu Hatori could no longer feel his body properly.
Or rather there was barely any body left to feel.
All four limbs were gone.
Both eyes had been destroyed long ago.
His skin had already been shredded apart by countless slashes.
His organs were barely functioning.
Even maintaining Reverse Cursed Technique had become impossibly painful.
Somewhere ahead Sukuna was speaking.
Laughing at his state, probably praising him again.
But Shinzu couldn’t hear clearly anymore.
Everything sounded distant.
Muffled.
Like hearing noise from underwater.
Still his instincts screamed one thing.
DEATH.
Honestly…
he had already expected this outcome.
From the moment Gojo Satoru died—
Shinzu understood that someone else would need to drag Sukuna down afterward.
And among everyone alive he was the most suitable person.
Not because he was the strongest.
But because his cursed technique was the most troublesome.
As Sukuna’s compressed domain continued tearing him apart—
Shinzu activated one final technique.
A reversed application of Synchronization.
Reversal Synchronization.
Unlike normal Synchronization, this version had only one purpose.
Binding.
Life to life.
Soul to soul.
Death to death.
The conditions were terrifyingly simple.
Once the reversal synchronization target is conected then if one side died…
the other would also die.
No matter how powerful they were.
No matter how weak they were.
No matter how much crused energy they have or none.
No matter if they were human, curse, or something beyond both.
The only way to survive was to avoid becoming bound in the first place.
And Sukuna— for all his intelligence, didn’t notice it because of his injuries.
At that exact moment— the King of Curses unleashed his final attack.
Compressed Domain: Hell Rain.
The world vanished into slashes.
Countless dismantles and cleaves compressed into microscopic destruction.
The attacks themselves were not individually devastating like Sukuna’s normal dismantle and clive.
But their quantity was absurd beyond comprehension.
If Shinzu were at his full strenght— he might have escaped somehow.
Maybe countered.
Maybe even survived.
Maybe evolved.
But now?
Now he could only endure to death.
Every remaining piece of flesh was sliced apart endlessly.
His cursed energy reserves emptied rapidly.
His Reverse Cursed Technique finally collapsed.
And then—
Shinzu Hatori died.
The synchronization activated.
Far away—
Sukuna suddenly froze.
At first— confusion appeared in his eyes.
Then realization.
Then— laughter.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
The King of Curses laughed louder than ever before.
Because he finally understood what Shinzu had done.
His body began crumbling apart like an exorcised cursed spirit.
Even while disappearing—
Sukuna kept laughing.
“Shinzu Hatori…”
His grin widened.
“Magnificent.”
And then—
Ryomen Sukuna vanished from existence.
Both monsters died together.
Darkness followed.
Endless darkness.
Then— warmth.
Shinzu’s consciousness slowly returned.
But something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
His body felt tiny.
Weak.
Curled up tightly.
There was liquid around him.
Pressure.
A heartbeat nearby.
Slowly— he opened his eyes.
Everything was dark red.
Blurry.
Muffled.
His brain processed the situation slowly.
Then— realization struck him.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He was inside a womb.
Before he could think further— an overwhelming exhaustion swallowed him again.
Darkness returned.
Then— another scene appeared.
This time— he was inside a small room.
Old wooden walls.
Thin blankets.
Several children nearby.
Some looked younger than him.
Others older.
Everyone looked poor.
Shinzu looked down.
Tiny hands.
Tiny body.
Around two years old.
An orphanage.
Before he could understand more— darkness swallowed him once again.
Then— another scene.
This time he looked around five years old.
He sat together with several children eating bread and potato soup.
The soup was thin enough to see the bottom of the bowl.
The bread was hard.
Yet the children still smiled while eating.
Shinzu wanted to think.
Wanted to ask questions.
Wanted to understand what was happening.
But his consciousness felt unstable.
Like fragmented memories were forcing themselves into his head.
Again— darkness came.
Then— another scene.
Now he was older.
Ten years old.
A tiny cake sat on a wooden table.
Poorly written cream words decorated the top:
Happy Birthday — Age 10
Several children clapped happily around him.
An old woman smiled warmly nearby.
Probably the orphanage caretaker.
Before Shinzu could react— darkness consumed everything once more.
Inside that endless void— his memories finally began reorganizing.
Shinzu Hatori.
A Transmigrator.
A sorcerer of jujutsu society.
A monster among sorcerers.
In his first life— he had been painfully ordinary.
An Earth-born nobody with no achievements beyond surviving on cheap snacks and sleep deprivation.
But online?
Online, he was a supreme grandmaster.
An anime addict.
A shameless reader of junk Chinese web novels.
Systems, arrogant young masters, ancient bloodlines, hidden jade beauties, overpowered protagonists—he consumed them all like sacred scripture.
If a novel title contained words like Heavenly, Invincible, or Dragon God, he clicked instantly without dignity.
Despite having absolutely zero life success, he still argued in comment sections like a 10,000-year-old cultivation ancestor.
“This junior cannot comprehend peak fiction.”
And then— fate killed him in the dumbest way possible.
At nineteen years old— a plane crashed on him.
Not while riding it.
Not inside it.
The plane crashed on him when he was crossing a old lady road.
The most infuriating part is that, in that desaster only he died.
Even after reincarnating, Shinzu still thought that death was complete nonsense.
Afterward— he was reborn into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.
At first, life was normal.
Then curses appeared.
Then he entered Jujutsu high.
Then learned about cursed energy.
Then became a sorcerer.
Then his cursed technique awakened.
Synchronization.
A cursed technique capable of synchronizing with other people and acquiring:
cursed energy, cursed techniques, battle experience, Reverse Cursed Technique mastery, technique proficiency, and even special traits.
A terrifying ability.
One that the whole jujutsu world would fear him for just welding it.
Since he knew Jujutsu Kaisen from his previous life, he naturally tried preparing for the future.
But there was one massive problem.
His memory was garbage.
He remembered major events.
Shibuya.
Gojo vs Sukuna.
The Culling Game.
Deaths.
Chaos.
But exact dates?
Specific timelines?
Precise sequences?
After living for over a decade, he almost completely forgotten every dates.
The only thing he remembered clearly was:
2020 was disastrous.
So Shinzu spent years preparing for 2020.
Traveling.
Synchronizing with strong sorcerers.
Expanding his arsenal.
Preparing for catastrophe.
Only later did he realize something horrifying.
He had mixed up real-world 2020…
with Jujutsu Kaisen’s timeline.
Specifically— the coronavirus pandemic.
“…God damn it.”
He had literally prepared for the wrong disaster.
By the time he corrected his mistake— the timeline had already begun shifting.
Still— he managed to interfere in certain events.
The biggest one being— preventing Megumi Fushiguro from becoming Sukuna’s vessel.
But fate compensated elsewhere.
Instead of Megumi—
Sukuna eventually used Tengen as a secondary vessel.
Which somehow made the situation even worse.
The battle between Gojo and Sukuna also unfolded differently from what Shinzu remembered.
Yet despite all the changes the ending remained the same.
Gojo Satoru still died.
And afterward Shinzu himself died too.
Or at least that’s what he thought he had.
Because now— he had clearly reincarnated again.
And judging from those fragmented memories— he had already spent atlast 10 years in this new life.
“…Seriously…”
Shinzu’s consciousness drifted silently in darkness.
“…What kind of broken reincarnation cycle is this?”
No one answered him.
Chapter End
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