An explosion rocked the air.
Standing guard outside, Ijichi whipped his head around just in time to see Gojo Satoru and the Cursed Spirit burst through the warehouse walls.
The mere sight of it made Ijichi feel like the air had been sucked out of his lungs.
The creature had arms ending in unnaturally long fingers and a face devoid of features—save for a massive, gaping maw filled with jagged, serrated fangs.
Its entire body seemed to be woven from thick, vessel-like cords of cursed energy.
Snapping out of his shock, Ijichi screamed at the nearby personnel, “Fall back!
Everyone, fall back!
This isn’t a place for us to stand!” His hands shook violently, sweat pouring down his face.
With a voice strained to the breaking point, he roared the incantation: “Emerge from darkness, blacker than black.
Purify that which is impure, and exorcise the defilement!” While the Veil descended, Gojo was merely playing.
Rika attacked him with frenzied desperation, and while he could have easily ended her with his current abilities, he didn’t.
He had developed a profound interest in the boy, Yuta Okkotsu.
What kind of power—or what kind of soul—could create a monster as magnificent as Rika?
Hovering in mid-air, Gojo suddenly let out a sharp laugh.
“Come on, girl!
Try and kill me!” The only response was a guttural roar as Rika lunged, her claws swinging with enough force to pulverize anything in her path.
Space itself seemed to yield to her rage.
As the black Veil finally draped over the area, Gojo felt the familiar thrill of being able to cut loose.
“Good job, Ijichi!
I’ll skip the usual slap to the back of the head for that one.” Gojo accelerated, soaring to a height where Rika couldn’t reach him.
He reached up and pulled down his blindfold, revealing eyes like polished blue glass—the Six Eyes.
“Let’s test the durability of that body of yours, Rika-girl.
I’m going to be a little rough, so try not to scream too loud.” Gojo clasped his hands in front of his chest.
The sheer pressure of his surging cursed energy forced Rika into a momentary, stunned silence.
“First, Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.” By amplifying the Limitless with negative energy, he created a point of intense suction.
“Next, Cursed Technique Reversal: Red.” Channeling positive energy through the Reverse Cursed Technique into the Limitless, he generated a powerful repelling force.
“And when you combine the two…
you get Hollow Technique: Purple.
(The ‘Light’ version, this time.)” He pointed his right hand at Rika, his fingers curling into a specific mudra while his left hand stabilized his shoulder.
Cursed energy condensed violently in front of him, forming a sphere of purple light that resembled a miniature black hole.
Though it was only the size of a basketball, the space around it visibly warped and distorted.
The Purple sphere ignited, streaking forward with a trail of violet light that tore through the atmosphere, hurtling toward Rika without a hint of hesitation.
“Show me what you’re made of, Rika!” Seeing the incoming pillar of light, Rika realized it was too late to dodge.
The speed was incomprehensible.
She crossed her massive arms, trying to tank the hit.
The light punched through her arms and chest as if they were wet paper.
The beam didn’t stop there; it slammed into the edge of the Veil, shattering the barrier where it struck.
Gojo watched Rika howl in agony, his expression unreadable.
He slid his blindfold back into place.
As Rika’s form began to flicker and recede, Taira no Minamoto emerged from the wreckage of the warehouse, carrying a talisman-covered Yuta Okkotsu over his shoulder.
He flashed Gojo a thumb-up: Mission accomplished.
Gojo rubbed his temples, looking like he had a mounting migraine.
In the distance, a building had caught fire—likely because the explosion from Purple had short-circuited the local power lines.
Great, Gojo thought.
I’m never going to hear the end of this from Principal Yaga.
[Moments earlier: Inside the Warehouse] The moment Gojo had lured Rika outside, she had demolished a wall just by moving.
Minamoto watched the destruction and couldn’t help but think: Your girlfriend really does come with a double-hit passive, huh?
With cursed energy that massive, why even bother with techniques?
Just basic-attacking is enough to end the world.
As the dust settled, Minamoto looked at the gaping hole in the wall and shouted toward the exit, “Have fun out there, Sensei!
Do your best!” Yuta, who had been huddled on the ground weeping, froze.
He looked up, bewildered.
“Your teacher…
he’s going to die.
How can you just tell him to ‘have fun’?” “Don’t worry about it,” Minamoto waved a hand dismissively.
“He’s ‘The Strongest’ for a reason.
Come on, sit down.
Let’s have a chat.” Minamoto grabbed Yuta’s hand and pulled him down to the floor, ignoring the grime and debris.
Yuta was in such a fragile state that he didn’t even think to resist.
“Tell me your story, Okkotsu-kun.
Let’s hear about this epic romance between you and Rika.” Yuta looked like a man who hadn’t spoken to a rational human being in years.
He was visibly twitchy.
After a long silence, he began to recount his haunting “Miyagi Love Story.” “We were…
childhood friends.
We grew up together.
We loved each other.
Six years ago, in a park near my home in Sendai…
it was my birthday.
Rika gave me a present…” Yuta hesitated.
Minamoto, acting as the world’s most cynical therapist, nodded.
“A match made in heaven, then.
Real star-crossed lovers.” His mouth was moving, but his eyes were locked on Yuta’s neck, calculating the exact angle for a knockout blow.
“I was only six…” Yuta continued, his voice trembling.
“Rika gave me an engagement ring.
We made a promise.
‘When Rika and Yuta grow up, we’re getting married.’ But…
on the way home, there was a car accident.
Rika died.
Then she became a Curse, and she’s been protecting me ever since.
I’ve tried to restrain her, so no one would get hurt, until…” He broke down again, clutching his head.
“Okkotsu-kun!
Look!
What’s happening to Rika?” Minamoto shouted, feigning alarm.
Yuta instinctively looked up, catching sight of the exact moment Purple tore through his beloved’s chest.
Even though he feared her power, he had always believed Rika was invincible.
He stared at the sky, his soul seemingly leaving his body.
“How…
how is this possible?
Is Rika…
gone?” Now’s the chance, Minamoto thought.
“She’s not gone,” Minamoto said quickly.
“The curse hasn’t been broken yet.
Come to Jujutsu High.
But first…
please go to sleep for a bit.” Yuta turned to him, his brain lagging behind the conversation.
“Huh?” Thwack.
A precise strike to the neck, and Yuta crumpled into unconsciousness.
Minamoto exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
That was a gamble.
If Rika had still been fully conscious and rational, knocking out Yuta would have triggered an immediate, lethal retaliation.
He had timed it perfectly—striking while she was reeling from Gojo’s attack.
He moved fast, pulling out a thick stack of talismans.
He plastered them all over Yuta, wrapping him like a mummy to suppress his cursed energy.
If he didn’t, Rika would wake up the moment Yuta did.
Hoisting Yuta onto his shoulder, Minamoto noted how light the boy was.
Damn, ‘Bone-kun’ really needs to hit the gym.
How are you going to be a sorcerer with this physique?
He walked out of the warehouse and gave Gojo the thumb-up.
Later, Minamoto and Gojo sat perched on the hood of a scrapped car.
They were digging into Kaiseki-style bento boxes that Ijichi had been sent to fetch.
Yuta remained unconscious at their feet.
Minamoto shoveled rice into his mouth at lightning speed.
After finishing, he gave his final review of the meal: “This stuff isn’t filling at all!” Gojo looked at him, genuinely exasperated.
“Is this really how the Taira clan raised you?
This meal is about elegance, you brat.” He waved Ijichi over from where he was clearing the perimeter.
“Ijichi!
Go buy him another one.” The two of them looked down at Yuta.
The silence stretched for a moment before they both spoke at the exact same time.
“Let’s enroll him.” They shared a brief, awkward laugh.
The reason they’d sent Ijichi away was specifically to discuss this.
“What about the Zen’in clan?” Minamoto asked.
“The Zen’ins are a minor headache,” Gojo replied, his tone shifting to something colder.
“The real trouble will be the Higher-ups.
Those old geezers are definitely going to demand a death sentence for Yuta Okkotsu.” “I figured,” Minamoto shrugged.
“In the end, it’ll just be another game of political bartering.”