As the black mist surged toward him, Tōru Azuma instinctively covered his mouth and nose while reinforcing his entire body with Cursed Energy, forming a protective layer over his skin.
Judging from what he had just seen, the mist appeared to be the effect of some kind of Cursed Technique.
That meant the Cursed Spirit before him was no ordinary Grade 2 Cursed Spirit.
It was very likely Semi-Grade 1, or perhaps even Grade 1.
Since there was no way to determine the effect of its Cursed Technique from its appearance alone, it was best to take every precaution he could.
When the black mist cleared, he was already braced for the Cursed Spirit’s attack, only for the scene before him to suddenly change.
He was standing on a ruined street.
Every building within sight was in shambles, and the sky was shrouded in an ominous darkness.
Faint, miserable wails echoed in his ears, while the stench of burning and blood filled the air.
But none of that was the important part.
What mattered was that he was standing in the middle of a pile of corpses.
When he looked down at those around him, he saw several familiar faces.
Utahime, Mei Mei, Shoko, Gojo, Geto, even Itadori and the others from the beginning of the main story were among them.
Faced with the sight, his grip on Fudōmaru tightened instinctively.
At the same time, he forced himself to remain calm and began surveying his surroundings.
If he had seen something like this immediately after arriving in this world, he probably would have frozen on the spot, unable to react at all.
But after everything he had learned and trained through during this time, he was no longer the same person.
Even when confronted with such a bizarre and hopeless scene, his first instinct was still to determine exactly what was happening.
Suddenly, a deafening, distorted roar came from the sky not far away.
Tōru Azuma instinctively turned around and saw an enormous humanoid monster slowly emerge from behind a half-collapsed building.
Compared to its massive body, even skyscrapers hundreds of meters tall seemed small.
Its form appeared to be made entirely of dark, ominous, distorted Cursed Energy.
Though it had no fixed shape, it possessed a pair of eyes glowing with crimson light.
The creature seemed to notice his gaze.
Its eyes, brimming with madness and a desire for destruction, locked onto him.
Then a blood-red beam erupted from its mouth and instantly swallowed his entire body.
“Ugh?!”
As the black mist dispersed, Tōru Azuma instinctively leaped to the side.
That sudden movement was exactly what allowed him to evade the Cursed Spirit’s lunge.
Only after realizing that he was still inside the dark, gloomy basement did he understand that everything he had just experienced had apparently been an illusion.
Was that the effect of the Cursed Spirit’s Cursed Technique?
More importantly, he had been trapped in that illusion for several full seconds, yet the Cursed Spirit hadn’t attacked him during that time.
It had only lunged at him after the illusion ended.
It seemed that if the Cursed Spirit wanted to interfere with his mind, it had to maintain its Cursed Technique continuously.
That realization calmed him slightly, and he turned his attention back to the Cursed Spirit.
It had also turned around by now, but that cruel, sinister grin was still plastered across its face.
Once he confirmed the situation, the first thing that came to mind was Utahime Iori.
“Senpai!
Are you okay?”
A trembling voice came from behind him, but she was clearly awake again.
“I-I’m fine…
It looks like this Cursed Spirit has a Cursed Technique that can cause hallucinations.
Be careful!”
She sounded shaken, but she didn’t seem seriously hurt.
Tōru Azuma tightened his grip on Fudōmaru again.
This time, instead of waiting, he went on the offensive.
Although the Cursed Spirit’s Cursed Technique didn’t seem particularly dangerous at first glance, an ability that merely dragged someone into an illusion felt far too weak.
It lacked the offensive power one would normally expect from a proper Cursed Technique.
So he concluded that there had to be a second effect.
Either the conditions for triggering it had not yet been met, or the Cursed Spirit needed to use the technique repeatedly.
Seeing its prey charge toward it with Cursed Energy burning around his body, a trace of almost human mockery flashed through the Cursed Spirit’s eyes.
It clasped its hands together and formed an unusual hand sign.
The next instant, the sensation of his entire body being torn apart overwhelmed Tōru Azuma’s senses.
The sudden agony nearly disrupted his Cursed Energy Reinforcement, and his charging stride faltered for half a step.
That single moment of hesitation gave the Cursed Spirit the perfect opening.
With a savage grin, it rushed at him and violently swung its sharp claws, which were coated in filthy Cursed Energy.
Sensing the danger, Tōru Azuma forced himself to endure the feeling of his body being ripped apart and narrowly dodged the attack.
But just then, an agonized scream rang out nearby.
“Ahh—!”
The sound immediately caught the Cursed Spirit’s attention.
It paused for a fraction of a second, then turned and charged toward Utahime Iori.
“Senpai, dodge!”
Tōru Azuma shouted as he once again reinforced his body with Cursed Energy and rushed after the Cursed Spirit, intending to stop it with an attack of his own.
But to his surprise, the Cursed Spirit suddenly doubled back.
Its body, which had come to an abrupt halt, twisted around in an instant, and one of its claws smashed viciously toward him.
With a dull impact, Fudōmaru’s sturdy blade bent on the spot.
Tōru Azuma was sent flying by the blow and crashed onto the floor nearby.
Seeing that its attack had landed, the Cursed Spirit didn’t waste the opportunity.
It immediately closed in again, slashing at him repeatedly with its sharp claws.
By now, Tōru Azuma was gradually becoming accustomed to the pain.
Rather than trying to block again with the already bent Fudōmaru, he rolled across the floor in an undignified but effective attempt to evade the Cursed Spirit’s relentless attacks.
Only when he found an opening did he abruptly pour Cursed Energy into Fudōmaru and slash out a deep blue arc of light, forcing the Cursed Spirit back.
He immediately leaped several meters away.
The sensation of his body being torn apart was still there, but after enduring it for a while, the pain had weakened considerably.
Tōru Azuma struggled back to his feet.
Noticing that he was growing accustomed to the pain and that his movements were gradually returning to normal, the Cursed Spirit reached its sharp hands toward its own chest, apparently preparing to use its Cursed Technique again.
By now, Tōru Azuma had formed a rough understanding of the Cursed Spirit’s abilities.
First, it had to be at least Semi-Grade 1.
It possessed a Cursed Technique beyond what a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit could normally have, and it was capable of deliberately suppressing its Cursed Energy fluctuations to hide inside the basement.
Its Cursed Technique seemed to drag its targets into an illusion of death, then allow it to trigger the sensations of pain they had experienced within that illusion through a deliberate action.
However, that effect seemed to work only once per illusion.
Once the pain had been triggered and the victim gradually adapted to it, the Cursed Spirit would have to use its Cursed Technique again.
Even so, it was more than troublesome enough for him in his current state.
The pain was simply too realistic.
If several different forms of agony were layered on top of one another, they could probably shatter a person’s mind and will with ease.
Not far away, Utahime’s screams, though somewhat weaker than before, still rang out painfully and confirmed his suspicion.
He couldn’t let the Cursed Spirit use its Cursed Technique a second time.
Even if he could endure it, Utahime definitely couldn’t.
He had to finish this quickly.
With that thought, Tōru Azuma stopped caring whether using power beyond his current Grade would lower his evaluation from Jujutsu High.
The pale blue Cursed Energy that had previously been confined to the surface of his body suddenly erupted outward and engulfed him.
The abrupt change made the Cursed Spirit in the distance freeze in the middle of activating its Cursed Technique.
Its breathing seemed to stop.
For the first time, a trace of panic and an instinctive desire to retreat appeared in its eyes.
From its perspective, the target whose strength had seemed merely ordinary moments earlier was now radiating an oppressive presence that was increasing at a rate it couldn’t comprehend.
It was a Cursed Spirit.
How could it possibly feel as though it couldn’t breathe?
Then, in the next instant, the vast amount of Cursed Energy that seemed ready to burst through the ceiling suddenly contracted back around Tōru Azuma’s body.
But he hadn’t reduced his output.
He had simply forced all of the expanding, escaping Cursed Energy back into his body to prevent unnecessary waste.
At that moment, his body felt stronger than ever before.
It felt as though a light jump could launch him into the sky, or a single punch could destroy anything in front of him. This story is hosted at novelping.com.
But he knew those sensations were false, brought on by the sudden increase in power.
The only thing that was truly real was the faint tearing pain running through every muscle in his body from excessive reinforcement.
Pushing his physical reinforcement to its maximum had drastically increased his physical abilities, but it was also inflicting minor damage on his body.
He needed to finish the fight quickly.
With that thought, he stepped forward.
The floor shattered beneath his foot.
Fudōmaru, which had been bent by the Cursed Spirit’s earlier attack, returned to its original sharp and sturdy form under the combined effect of its inherent properties and the massive amount of Cursed Energy pouring into it.
At the sight of this terrifying transformation, the Cursed Spirit completely abandoned the idea of activating its Cursed Technique.
Instead, it turned and rushed toward Utahime Iori, who was still down nearby.
With the intelligence it had developed, it came to a simple conclusion.
Its only chance of survival might be to take the human woman hostage and use her to create an opportunity to escape.
A violent explosion rang out.
The spot where Tōru Azuma had been standing was left covered in shattered chunks of flooring.
In the next instant, he appeared directly in front of the Cursed Spirit, his voice icy cold.
“I’m right here…”
The moment the Cursed Spirit realized that terrifying enemy was already standing before it, a fist crashed into its face.
The blow carried violent, chaotic Cursed Energy that had nevertheless been forcibly restrained and controlled.
“Ugh!”
With a miserable cry, the Cursed Spirit’s body slammed heavily into the basement wall, creating a deep crater surrounded by a web of cracks.
Chunks of stone rained down around it.
Agonizing pain flooded through its body, but it didn’t even have the chance to scream.
Because with another explosive sound, that terrifying figure appeared before it again.
For the first time, regret entered its mind.
If only it had left this place sooner.
If it had simply gone somewhere else, anywhere else, it never would have had to face something this terrifying.
But regret was useless now.
With a roar, it tore itself free from the wall and swung its claws at the figure before it, the attack producing a piercing whistle as it cut through the air.
It was one final desperate struggle.
A cold flash swept past.
Its arm flew through the air and landed several meters away.
The pain of having its body severed made the Cursed Spirit open its mouth wide, but before it could make a sound, that deadly gleam flashed again.
Once.
Twice.
Again and again, it swept across its remaining arm, its waist, and both legs.
Unbearable agony erupted throughout its body.
One by one, the rest of its body parts separated from its torso just as its first arm had.
With nothing left to support it, the Cursed Spirit collapsed to the floor and writhed helplessly in pain.
Only then did it finally see the true form of that cold gleam.
It was a blade wrapped in dense, deep blue flames of Cursed Energy.
And the one holding it was the very human who had filled it with fear and regret.
Looking down at the Cursed Spirit writhing on the floor before him, Tōru Azuma let out a long breath.
Then he raised Fudōmaru high above his head.
The usual gentleness and composure had disappeared from his eyes.
In their place was nothing but absolute coldness and killing intent.
“Die.”
The next instant, the blade came crashing down, carrying an enormous surge of Cursed Energy.
Dark red flashes of Cursed Energy lit up the underground space once more, amplifying the power of the strike to its absolute limit.
A deafening explosion shook the basement.
A scar several meters long was carved across the floor and wall.
The Cursed Spirit had been completely obliterated by the attack, leaving behind only a few fragments of its body that slowly turned to ash in the air.