Several kilometers from Sugisawa High School in a straight line, Uchiha Ayato dropped smoothly from the air and landed on the stump of a snapped utility pole.
Around him, rubble and the not-quite-dissipated smell of burning made it immediately obvious this was the source of the explosion from moments ago.
No civilian casualties.
No rampaging cursed spirits.
Just this one deliberately cleared intersection.
“A clumsy lure.” Ayato brushed the dust from his sleeves and swept his gaze toward the patch of deep shadow not far away.
The Sharingan kindled in the darkness with a faint, ominous glow.
“You went to all the trouble of setting this little stage — and now you’re just going to stand there and not show yourself?
That’s a bit undignified.” At Uchiha Ayato’s words, the measured sound of footsteps on broken concrete came from the deepest part of the shadow.
A tall man walked out at an unhurried pace, dressed in a black jikitotsu robe with five kesa draped over it.
Long build, two small black studs in his earlobes.
Most striking of all: the grotesque suture scar running across his forehead, like a centipede had crawled its way across his skin.
Geto Suguru.
Formerly one of the four Special Grade jujutsu sorcerers.
But the one piloting this body right now was not Geto himself.
It was Kenjaku — a sorcerer who had survived for over a millennium by transplanting his brain from body to body.
“No need to be so impatient, young man.” The man tucked both hands into his wide sleeves, narrow eyes half-closing, the amiable smile on his face lending him the air of a wandering monk who’d just come to beg for alms.
“Ideally I’d have invited you in for tea and a proper chat, but tonight’s stage is a bit crowded.” [Name: Severed (parasitizing) Chakra: 5,100,000 / 5,100,000 Rank: Shadow Level 2 (Transcendent)] “Oh?” Ayato raised an eyebrow.
“If you’re so busy, why bother pulling me over here?” “Uchiha Ayato.
That’s what the files say, correct?” The monk paid no attention to Ayato’s pointed look, and kept his composure.
“You are an unexpected variable.
A moth that has no business being on this chessboard.” Kenjaku tilted his head slightly.
The arc at the corner of his mouth widened.
“If you’d actually followed them all the way to Sugisawa High School, that would’ve been…
problematic.” “With your methods, you’d probably have swept those minor cursed spirits clean without breaking a sweat.” “And that would’ve gotten in the way of a certain boy becoming Sukuna’s vessel.” Uchiha Ayato’s expression sharpened.
This schemer really was Yuji Itadori’s devoted mother hen — had his son’s whole roadmap laid out, couldn’t afford a single detour.
Ah.
Japanese helicopter parenting.
“What a meticulous plan…” Ayato said it conversationally, turning the Kusanagi in his hand.
The straight blade’s edge caught the cold moonlight.
“So you set off a firecracker to drag me over here — and now the plan is to kill me, loose end solved?” But Kenjaku shook his head, exhaling a measured sigh.
“Logically, eliminating you right here would be a highly efficient solution.” “But who asked you to have such a troublesome guardian?” Kenjaku raised one hand and pointed at Ayato from across the distance.
“You are, after all, the person Gojo Satoru personally selected and sponsored — making a sorcerer recommendation, that is unprecedented from him.” “If I accidentally got you killed right now, I’d attract that lunatic’s attention, and my entire plan would go up in smoke.” The man slowly opened both arms wide.
His broad kesa billowed in the wind.
From the ground, the walls, from behind the snapped utility poles — vast swaths of dark-black cursed energy began to roll and surge like boiling tar.
Dozens of warped, tooth-grinding, twisted Grade 3 and Grade 2 cursed spirits crawled out of the dark.
Dripping, swarming.
They packed the intersection shut from every direction.
This was his ace — Cursed Spirit Manipulation.
Masses of cheap expendable cannon fodder, deployed with the aim of buying time — absolutely perfect for the job.
“So, as a favor to me.” Kenjaku retreated back to the edge of the shadow, satisfaction written across his face.
“Spend a little time here with my pets.” Uchiha Ayato: Oh!
Fresh mission material.
Fresh!
Thank you so much.
You’ve done me a huge favor.
The cursed spirit horde surged greedily toward Uchiha Ayato.
The boy in the center of the encirclement gave a light hop downward, dropping straight into the heart of the writhing mass of limbs and shadows.
He wove between the monsters’ torn-off arms and severed legs without slowing, and every time the blade-light flared, one more cursed spirit became ash.
His manner — calling it a fight would be generous.
It was more like dancing on the strings of a death instrument.
“Lovely form.
Not a drop of cursed energy wasted.
Precise and controlled to the point of being unsettling.” “Is that what those eyes of yours do?
Improving your operational precision?” From the edge of the shadow, the monk-robed man watched Uchiha Ayato’s performance at a leisurely pace — making no move to close the net, looking more like an audience member at a carefully choreographed kabuki performance.
“You know, Uchiha-kun, to possess these kinds of abilities at your age…
do you really intend to waste your life in a decaying place like Jujutsu High?” “This world is becoming tedious.
The old men sitting in their tombs at the Supervisory Division will eventually use talented young people like you for kindling.” “Why not join us?
Create a new world together.
What do you say?” Ayato side-stepped a jet of acid and grabbed a lunging cursed spirit by the throat, then used it as a shield to absorb the next charge.
He yawned, eyes carrying absolutely zero interest.
“‘Let’s join hands and change the world together’ — I read that line so many times in manga as a kid I got sick of it.
Got anything new?
Like, wiring a few hundred million yen into my account first?” “Forget it, monk.” “The old hardliners at Jujutsu High are definitely boring.
But…” He drove one foot through his makeshift “shield” and into the asphalt — the ground spiderwebbed from the impact.
“Between hanging around with a two-faced schemer like you, or an environment where pretty girls are sending me love letters on the regular — I know which one I prefer.” “Girls, is it?
Truly the heart of a young man.” Kenjaku chuckled softly.
“But you’ve seen it yourself — this world’s true nature is this ugly.
The ‘ordinary people’ you’re protecting, the monsters born from their fear — they’ll pull you into the abyss eventually too.” “If you joined us, I could show you a world that’s more real, more powerful.” “Save it for your own daydreams.
It’s not happening.” Ayato vaulted between the heads of the cursed spirits, not even sparing Kenjaku a glance.
“By the way — you’re talking this much because your pets are quality-control failures, and you’re scared I’ll burn through them before you’ve even had your fun, aren’t you?” Kenjaku’s eyes narrowed.
He was about to respond — When a soul-shaking tremor tore through the air from several kilometers away.
It wasn’t just a tremor.
The entire Sendai night sky was stained with a visible, dark crimson — a murky blend of malice and madness.
This was not merely a burst of cursed energy.
It was more like a divine being imprisoned for a thousand years reaching out through the bars of its cell, seizing back the right to breathe.
Uchiha Ayato’s expression went sharp.
He bounded back up to the top of the broken utility pole.
The three tomoe in his Sharingan started rotating.
“This is the result you wanted?
The resurrection of the King of Curses?” He looked down at Kenjaku in the shadow below, a dismissive smirk pulling at his mouth.
“Alright.
Playtime’s over.
I’ve got a real party to get to.” “All that effort to drag me out here — and you hand me this amateur hour.
Let’s call it what it is.” “Next time you want to play, bring something that can actually get me warmed up.
These things couldn’t even serve as my stretch routine.
It’s honestly embarrassing.” “Is that so?
What a shame.” Kenjaku rolled one shoulder, voice carrying no real remorse.
“But how are you planning to handle all these little ones?
Leave them running loose and they’ll go after ordinary people.” “Then let them burn — every last one of them, along with your boring little side show.” Chakra surged through his body.
In an instant, hand seals complete.
“Fire Style: Great Flame Razing Jutsu.” The boy’s chest expanded.
A tsunami of fire poured from his mouth.
Violence that warped space itself with heat.
The golden-red wave swallowed the ground in an instant.
The mob of cursed spirits — not even a chance to scream — carbonized and crumbled in the extreme heat.
The concrete road beneath fused into murky, smoked glass.
[Long-Term Mission: Return one thousand summoned creatures to the Three Great Sage Lands.
(450/1000).
Reward: Sage Mode] “Mere dust.
Not even close to my level.” Pass~ In the split second Kenjaku raised an arm to shield himself from the blinding light, in the surging heat and the billowing smoke — the boy’s presence simply ceased to exist, as if he had never occupied that space at all.
Seeing this, the composure Kenjaku had maintained throughout cracked for just a moment.
His eyes went wide with genuine shock.
The technique he’d just used to disappear — no conventional physical technique could pull that off.
Was that the boy’s own cursed technique?
No!
That was — Limitless???