Taira no Minamoto’s hands were shaking.
It wasn’t from excitement; it was because he could no longer suppress the pure, unadulterated rage boiling in his chest.
That absolute bastard Gojo Satoru was actually making him help “capture” Yuta Okkotsu.
This was a death wish.
Gojo grabbed Minamoto by the collar and tossed him into the car as if he were a sack of potatoes.
Fearing his student might bolt, he barked at Ijichi to floor it.
By the time Minamoto regained his composure, it was too late.
Truly, never in his life had he wanted to beat Gojo Satoru to death more than in this exact moment.
Looking at Minamoto’s “life is meaningless” expression, Gojo found himself genuinely perplexed.
The mission target was a Special Grade at most—why was this kid acting like it was the end of the world?
“Hey, kid, it’s just one Special Grade.
Is all this really necessary?” Gojo asked, looking puzzled.
“You’ve got the Gojo Satoru leading the mission.
What are you so afraid of?” Minamoto leaned against the window, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm.
“Yeah, sure, right.
Gojo-sensei is the most reliable guy in the world.” Is a Special Grade just a ‘Special Grade’ to everyone?
You say it like there’s no difference between killing a Special Grade and a Grade 1.
Give me a break!
This is Yuta Okkotsu we’re talking about!
Compared to Yuji Itadori, this guy is the author’s real golden boy!
He starts at Special Grade the moment he awakens, he can copy anyone’s technique, and his Cursed Energy reserves are borderline nonsensical.
He’s the real protagonist here.
And then there’s Rika.
A “Special Grade Over-Curse Vengeful Spirit.” A rarity among rarities, possessing power so immense it nearly killed Suguru Geto—power Geto himself called “capable of changing the world.” “Don’t be so dismissive,” Gojo said, finally laying out the plan while looking like he was doing Minamoto a huge favor.
“I’ll handle the Curse.
You’re in charge of investigating why it abducted that boy.
Ijichi, you time the Veil based on our lead.” “Yeah, yeah…
I’ll investigate the ‘boy’.” Minamoto wanted to scream.
Investigate my ass!
You want me to investigate a literal monster?
With my current strength, I can handle a Grade 1, sure.
But if I run into Rika, I’m getting squashed like a bug.
Gojo watched Minamoto’s brooding face and guessed that the boy had some private information source that was making him so despondent.
Then there was the Zen’in clan’s attitude.
Knowing those old geezers, they were the type to grit their teeth and swallow their pride before ever asking for help.
For them to reach out meant they were utterly out of options.
They clearly realized how dangerous this Curse was.
Gojo offered a grin—a sharp, battle-hungry smile—and patted Minamoto on the head.
“I’m Gojo Satoru, remember?
Relax.
I’m the strongest!” Minamoto whipped his head to the side, shaking off Gojo’s hand.
Damn it!
Stop trying to look cool!
Nissan Motor Co.
Scrap Warehouse, Western Suburbs, Tokyo.
“Our ‘Windows’ tracked the target to this warehouse about an hour ago.
He hasn’t come out since.
We’ve heard sounds of heavy destruction from inside; we suspect the target is being…
disciplined.
Evacuation is complete.
Fortunately, the area is sparsely populated.
We’ve cordoned off a five-kilometer radius.” The man speaking was dressed in a white kimono, his face a mask of indifference.
Judging by his attire, he was from the Zen’in clan.
One shouldn’t assume the Great Families are always arrogant and rude.
In fact, they can be remarkably quiet, polite, and formal—like solemn samurai.
This was especially true when they were standing in front of Gojo Satoru.
Gojo and Minamoto looked toward the warehouse.
The building was shrouded in a thick, cloying gloom.
A deathly silence was periodically shattered by the sounds of crashing metal.
An ominous, viscous Cursed Energy filled the entire space.
The warehouse’s silhouette was blurred, as if the building had been severed from reality, fated to sink forever into that darkness.
It stood in stark contrast to the brilliant sunshine outside.
All roads leading to the area were blocked, and a heavy presence of police and tactical units stood on high alert.
“No way…
is it actually forming an Innate Domain?” Gojo said, sounding delighted.
Minamoto glanced at him.
The excitement Gojo felt at the prospect of fighting a Special Grade was practically radiating off him.
Gojo caught his look.
“Come on, Minamoto!
CC (Sensei) doesn’t get to run into Special Grades every day!
It gets boring otherwise.” Gojo hooked an arm around Minamoto’s neck and dragged him forward.
“Go, go, go!
Cheer up!
You don’t stumble upon a Special Grade just by walking down the street.” “You make it sound like we won the lottery, Sensei.
In my personal life plan, I wasn’t supposed to face a Special Grade until my second year.” “Don’t be like that.
With me leading the way, just think of it as a field trip.
You can brag about it to Maki and the others when we get back.” “I’d honestly rather be lying in an infirmary bed with them.” Inside the warehouse, a black-haired boy sat huddled in a corner, clutching his head in agony.
Dangerous scrap metal and debris lay scattered around him.
He begged the air in a thready, desperate voice.
“Rika…
don’t stop me.
I want to die.
I don’t want to hurt anyone else anymore.
Just let me die!” The boy looked gaunt and exhausted, his plea echoing through the hollow space.
“No!
Rika…
loves Yuta!
Yuta can’t…
hurt…
himself!
When we grow up…
aahhh…
we’re getting…
married…
it’s a promise!” A distorted, shrieking voice roared back from the shadows, rejecting his wish.
“So that’s how it is,” Gojo mused, sounding uncharacteristically sentimental.
“Minamoto, love really is a crazy thing, isn’t it?” Minamoto didn’t miss a beat.
“You’ve been a bachelor for nearly thirty years; you have a lot of nerve talking about ‘love’.” “Minamoto-kun, while that is factually correct, it’s also very hurtful.
However, for a polymath like myself—powerful, talented, and incomparably handsome—I find it hard to imagine any woman who could actually keep up with me.
I’ll let it slide though; I know you’re just jealous.” Gojo looked entirely self-satisfied.
Minamoto opened his mouth to retort, but Gojo promptly covered it with his hand.
“No talking back.” Yuta Okkotsu stared blankly at the bickering pair.
He slowly realized they were like those other “strange people” from before—people who possessed weird, terrifying powers.
Even though he expected them to hurt him, Yuta still shouted a warning.
“Stay away!
Rika…
she’ll hurt you!” “Hey, Gojo-sensei, he says she’s gonna hurt you.
Get to work.
I’ll handle the ‘kind-hearted boy’ over here,” Minamoto said, flashing a mysterious smile.
Gojo’s eyes lit up as Rika manifested.
He identified the threat instantly: Special Grade Over-Curse Vengeful Spirit.
A hideous, faceless visage appeared, its maw filled with jagged teeth.
As the massive form emerged, the sheer pressure of Rika’s Cursed Energy far outweighed her terrifying appearance.
The air itself seemed to tremble.
“You again…
you guys again…
NO!
NO!
NO!
Don’t…
bully…
YUTA!” She lunged at Gojo, sensing he was the primary threat in the room.
“DIE!” Gojo was blasted out of the warehouse in an instant, though his voice drifted back playfully.
“This is what ‘love-brain’ looks like?
I guess I’ll leave you two boys some space!” Rika smashed through the warehouse wall, chasing after Gojo with murderous intent.
“No!
Rika, don’t!
Stop hurting people!” Yuta cried out in pain.
Faced with the overwhelming power of Gojo Satoru, Rika’s instincts were screaming to kill him to protect Yuta.
Watching his disobedient Curse, Yuta covered his face and wept silently.
The boy who wanted nothing more than to stop hurting people had never felt more broken.