In the outskirts of Tokyo, at an abandoned sanatorium, the moss-covered corridors were thick with the stench of rot.
“Makoto-kun, even though you’re the type who’s talented at everything as long as it has nothing to do with proper work, if you fail your Grade 2 promotion test, I’ll print out your entire browser history from the past month, not missing a single word, and stick it on the noticeboard in the school cafeteria.” After leaving behind a threat potent enough to make any decent teenage boy kill himself on the spot, Gojo Satoru casually disappeared beyond the jujutsu barrier—the “Curtain”—with a bag of freshly bought Kikufuku in hand.
“Hey!
That’s an invasion of personal privacy!
Blatant workplace bullying, Gojo-sensei!” Makoto shouted desperately at the pitch-black veil.
Just imagining those searches related to [Succubus Gojo Mai] materials, along with all the [obscure antisocial knowledge] he had looked up for the sake of getting stronger, being pinned to the noticeboard for everyone to see…
“No…
absolutely not!
Is my innocence going to end before it even begins?!” He wiped the cold sweat from his face and looked around.
According to Jujutsu High’s pre-mission assessment, the highest possible level of cursed spirit here was only “Grade 2.” The condition for lifting this Curtain was also unusually straightforward: [Automatically lifts when no cursed spirits remain inside.] …
Three minutes later.
With a dull, explosive boom, the mission target—a Grade 2 cursed spirit resembling a giant centipede—was blasted into pieces by his crooked, awkwardly executed ‘Blue’-infused punch.
“Phew…
job done.” Mizuki Makoto clapped his hands and was just about to turn around, only for the smile on his face to freeze.
The pitch-black Curtain above his head, remained completely still.
“…Hey, Gojo-sensei?
This prank isn’t funny at all.” Makoto’s heartbeat began to quicken.
If the barrier had not lifted, it meant there was still a cursed spirit here.
And Jujutsu High’s intelligence system would never make a mistake over something as minor as a Grade 2 test.
Unless…
Something malicious from the outside had slipped in, something even Gojo Satoru’s Six Eyes had failed to notice!
“Spe…
Special Grade?!
What the hell does that mean?!
I’m supposed to fight a Special Grade?
Watashi?!” The moment that twisted, nauseating patchwork monster stepped out from the remains of the Grade 2 cursed spirit, Makoto’s legs immediately started trembling.
‘Gojo Satoru!
You white-haired demon!
Are those Six Eyes worth tens of billions just there to work as light bulbs?!’ He let out an almost broken scream inside his head.
‘A monster this far outside the expected range dropped into the barrier, and you didn’t notice?
If you want to kill me, just say so!
You don’t have to dress it up as an “accident,” damn it!’ The claws were already upon him.
As a complete failure in physical combat, Makoto could not dodge using his body or the Limitless the way Gojo Satoru could.
All he could do was compress that less-than-one-percent sliver of [Gojo Satoru’s power] over the surface of his body.
Boom—!!
The first strike was stopped by Infinity.
But Makoto’s face instantly went pale.
‘No good…
the consumption rate for this kind of defense is astronomical!
Against a monster on this level, the second punch will turn me into paste!’ He tried to counterattack, but right now, he could not remotely project Blue at all.
That cluster of attractive force was like a ten-thousand-ton magnet stuck firmly to his fist, making every punch feel as though he were fighting against the rotation of the entire planet.
‘Even a fist enhanced with Blue can’t kill this thing.
Unless…’ He could not run and he could not win.
Inside this black box where electronic signals were cut off and Gojo Satoru had been intercepted outside, the feeling of death was so real it made him want to vomit.
—If he had been any other Grade 3 sorcerer, that is!
As a transmigrator, a “swindler,” and a “rumormonger,” Makoto had long since prepared a final emergency self-rescue procedure to avoid getting beaten to death one day when one of his lies was exposed by the victim.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Under the interference of cursed energy, the rusted industrial water pump slammed violently against itself, and the heavy metallic rumble nearly shattered Makoto’s eardrums.
With his back pressed against the vibrating pump, he looked at the staggering yet overwhelmingly oppressive patchwork monster.
Then, facing the eyeball hidden in the shadow of the corridor pillar, an eye clearly carrying the intent to observe, he revealed a crazed, twisted smile.
Question: Why did Makoto publicly claim that his cursed technique was [Echo Mimicry]?
There were two reasons.
The most important one, naturally, was to hide the truth of [Limitless] and avoid being humanely erased by the furious victims.
The other reason was precisely for a dead end like this.
The cursed technique known as [Echo Mimicry] was itself also a “rumor,” a [lie] that had deceived the entire jujutsu world and even fooled Gojo Satoru, “the strongest.” And under the rules of [Limitless], an [absolute lie] would become an [absolute truth]!
[Technique Disclosure] “My cursed technique—its name is [Limitless].” “Its core principle is—turning falsehood into reality.” [—Technique Disclosure: Binding Vow established.] [Limitless efficiency—120%.] [Echo Mimicry—available for use.] In that instant, the lie was granted a soul.
‘To pair with Gojo-sensei’s Limitless power, the two most suitable techniques for me to mimic are…
Should I use Star Rage, the one most compatible with Blue and most likely to kill it in a single strike?
No.
I can’t fire Blue outward like that white-haired monster can.
In this situation, with my current ability, if I load both Blue and Star Rage onto my fist at the same time, I won’t be able to control it, and I’ll drag myself in and get shredded too.
In that case, there’s only one option left—’ ‘Takako Uro-san, if I survive this, I’ll repay you someday.
I’ll make that guy Yuta give your arm back!’ [Echo Mimicry—Cursed Technique: Thin Ice Breaker.] The instant the Special Grade cursed spirit smashed through the iron door, Makoto did not retreat.
Instead, he raised his hand toward the incoming fist in an extremely strange and twisted posture no normal person could have imagined.
He abruptly stopped his forward momentum, locking both feet firmly against the ground as his entire body arched backward like a sheet of alloy forcefully bent by two giant hands.
His spine let out a sharp, overloaded grinding sound under the crushing pressure, as though it might snap in the very next second.
His right hand stretched into the air, not to attack, but to precisely “grab” a sheet of atmosphere in front of him.
Meanwhile, his left arm—the one with Blue stuck to it—was held stiffly across his chest, aimed directly at the cursed spirit’s forehead.
[Technique Stitching: Loading.] [Using the properties of Thin Ice Breaker to solidify space and create a directional “bow of space.”] [Operation: Using the curved extension of Thin Ice Breaker to create a directional guide rail.] “This is…
Blue Echo.” Makoto clenched his left fist, where an extremely unstable blue light flickered, already backfiring and tearing into his flesh.
That was Blue, unable to leave his hand.
The moment the “bow of space” drawn by his right hand reached its breaking point, he used the elastic force of space itself to “shoot” his entire left arm, along with that destructive cluster of attraction, like a cannon shell.
Boom—!!
The price arrived instantly.
At his current level, he had no method of controlling Blue after it left his body.
The instant the attractive force was violently dragged away by the spatial guide rail, the flesh and blood of his entire left forearm was ripped off, pulverized, and swallowed into that blue light.
White bone showed through as blood sprayed wildly.
The violent nerve pain struck Mizuki Makoto’s consciousness like a blast of high-voltage electricity.
Boom—!!
The low-quality Blue, mixed with scraps of flesh and blood, produced an absurd spatial collapse effect after being accelerated through the “spatial guide rail.” What had originally been nothing more than an inferior version of Blue developed a spatial collapse effect similar to a supersonic shock wave after being accelerated and amplified by the “spatial guide rail.” The Special Grade cursed spirit’s powerful torso touched that layer of “overlapping space,” and in that instant, the pressure surged tens of thousands of times over, forcibly crushing its body into atomic-level dust.
Space tore like a shredded oil painting, leaving several horrifying black cracks inside the pump room.
The terrifying directional gravity did not lose momentum even after ripping the cursed spirit apart, and with an ear-piercing sound of space being torn open, it slammed fiercely into the inner wall of the Curtain.
Crack—!
The barrier set up by an assistant manager, which should have been indestructible, shattered from the inside like fragile glass under that one strike!
“…” Makoto stared at the black fragments dissipating overhead, then at the figure of the white-haired man revealed in the sky, and only one thought remained in his mind.
‘White-haired demon, you’d better give me triple workplace injury compensation for this!’ …
Gojo Satoru had originally been sitting on a distant signal tower eating Kikufuku.
The pupils of his Six Eyes suddenly shrank as he stared hard at the opening that had been violently blasted apart by external force.
The instant the barrier collapsed, he crossed space and landed in the center of the ruins.
“That was…” Pulling down his blindfold, the Six Eyes instantly caught the details within the wreckage.
He reached out and pinched a hair-thin “stitching thread” from the air, one carrying the trace of Cursed Spirit Manipulation.
“Geto…
so that’s how it is.” Gojo Satoru’s voice dropped to ice cold.
He understood in an instant.
Someone had used Cursed Spirit Manipulation to forcibly stitch a high-grade cursed womb into the body of a low-grade cursed spirit, using the overlap between two layers of cursed energy information to hide its true presence.
That was how it had perfectly deceived his Six Eyes.
Then Gojo looked toward Makoto, who had collapsed in a pool of blood.
The boy had completely passed out from the pain.
His left hand, with white bone exposed, was in a horrific state, and the air still carried traces of an extremely inefficient yet strangely fused “spatial echo.” “This unreasonable thickness of space…” Gojo pulled down his blindfold as he examined the remaining trace in the air, the path of a “spatial guide rail” that looked as though it had been violently kneaded and twisted.
He crouched in front of the ruins and looked at Makoto, who had already lost consciousness, his right arm split open from the enormous pressure he had endured.
‘What a strange operation path.’ Gojo rapidly pieced it together in his mind.
‘Because his cursed energy manipulation is too imprecise, he can’t project it at range the way I do.
So in order to survive, he had no choice but to use that rough technique of grabbing space, turning his own body into a launcher and forcibly firing Blue outward?’ ‘Even the barrier was shattered by that inefficient, heavy-handed “violent stacking.”‘ ‘Honestly…
what a crazy, clumsy student.’ “Since you went this far and risked your life…” Gojo lifted the boy up and looked at that face, pale as paper.
With a helpless sigh, he said, “I’ll let you off for now regarding the Gojo Mai R18 doujin and your browser history.”