We used to be free.
Cursed spirits were growing more active by the day, and sorcerers were exhausted from dealing with them.
As long as we were clever enough, we could earn plenty of money with ease, unbound by anything.
We curse users used to live freely and willfully.
Until that day.
Until we saw that person.
“Satoru Gojo?” On the surface of a shimmering lake, Jiro Awasaka and his broker sat in a small boat and met in secret.
The other man brought him news.
Or rather, a target.
“Yes.
The child of the Six Eyes born to the Gojo clan after several hundred years.” “A child?” “Yes.
His bounty has already broken 100 million.” One hundred million?
A bounty on a mere brat?
Even Jiro Awasaka was moved when he heard the number.
He had heard of the Gojo clan’s Six Eyes and cursed technique.
But a brat was still a brat.
Even if a mere child awakened the Six Eyes, it did not change the fact that he was only a few years old.
Even if he might become a powerful Jujutsu sorcerer in the future, right now, he was still just a brat.
Jiro Awasaka liked killing people, especially torturing them.
One of his favorite methods was to capture several people together and bury them in the ground, leaving only their heads exposed.
After that, he would use a small knife to peel away one victim’s scalp in front of the others, one person at a time.
He loved the pleasure that cruelty brought him.
Especially when those people realized they were about to be brutally killed and showed expressions of despair.
To Jiro Awasaka, that was the most delicious spiritual food.
Someone like him naturally would not spare a target just because the other party was a child.
Moreover, this was not a commission.
It was a bounty.
Whoever obtained the head of the Gojo clan’s Six Eyes brat first would receive 100 million.
Without question, Jiro Awasaka joined that hunt.
And it was precisely because of that hunt that he understood why a child, nothing more than a child, could have a bounty that broke 100 million.
He would never forget everything he saw that day.
That day, like today, he had hidden in ambush early, waiting above and looking down for his prey to appear.
But when he found his prey, before he even had time to act, he felt cold all over.
His hands and feet would not obey him.
With only one glance, Jiro Awasaka felt as though he had been touched by some overwhelming terror.
In that instant, he understood why cursed spirits were becoming more and more rampant.
It was because of that brat, only a few years old.
Like a long-standing record in track and field suddenly being broken.
Like figure skating, where after a certain athlete appeared, the number of rotations in jumps only kept increasing.
The balance of the world had been broken.
The balance between Jujutsu sorcerers and cursed spirits that had lasted for years was shattered because the Gojo clan’s Six Eyes child was born.
To return cursed spirits and Jujutsu sorcerers to balance, the world began to correct itself.
The best evidence was the 1995 stock market crash, when Japan’s economy fell into an unprecedented depression.
The days when people lived and worked in peace were gone.
Society became unstable, and countless cursed spirits were born from vast waves of negative emotion.
Yes.
In Jiro Awasaka’s eyes, the person who caused Japan’s economic depression was Satoru Gojo.
Born on December 7, 1989, he successfully awakened the Gojo clan’s inherited Limitless technique in 1994.
At that time, signs of the stock market collapse had already appeared.
That kind of existence was someone Awasaka could never defeat.
Jiro Awasaka knew from the first glance.
He had been so awed by Gojo’s overwhelming power that he could not even muster the courage to strike.
That person’s appearance had stripped curse users of their freedom.
And now, when Makoto shouted the four syllables King Crimson, that familiar terror swept over Awasaka’s entire body again.
In an instant, he was drenched in sweat from head to toe.
But very quickly, ecstasy appeared on his face.
“There’s no mistake.
No mistake at all!” “Hahahahahahaha…” “Three years ago, the increasingly rampant cursed spirits suddenly began decreasing rapidly, returning to their former level.
The rate of human deaths and disappearances dropped every year.
Back then, I should have known.” “The balance of the Jujutsu world had been restored once again!” “And the person who restored that balance was you.
It could only be you, the one who gives me the same terrifying feeling as Satoru Gojo!” Jiro Awasaka looked completely deranged as he laughed loudly.
All his killing intent vanished at that moment.
The only thing left in his eyes when he looked at Makoto was fanaticism.
“Young man, may I know your name?
No, please.
You must tell me your name.” Had he gone insane?
Were there any normal people in the Jujutsu world?
Makoto’s expression remained unchanged, as if his life had always been accompanied by madmen like this.
But he still told the man his name.
“Makoto.” “Makoto, Makoto, Makoto…” Jiro Awasaka called his name three times in a row, then laughed wildly again.
“Hahahahaha, wonderful.
Makoto, you are the savior of us curse users.
We curse users will surely regain our freedom under your leadership!” “Now, hurry up and kill me.
Use my blood to celebrate your birth.” There was no saving him.
Makoto did not want to bother with this madman.
The next moment, he controlled King Crimson and attacked together with it.
He still had not figured out exactly what the effect of the other man’s technique was.
But he knew one thing.
A sorcerer’s cursed energy was not infinite.
The opponent could not keep his technique active forever.
As long as Makoto kept hitting him, there would eventually come a moment when the enemy was smashed to pieces.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Makoto and King Crimson struck from front and back.
Every swing of those powerful fists carried a gust of force.
Jiro Awasaka was caught between them, his entire body convulsing as if electrocuted.
Dull thuds from the heavy punches sounded from every part of him without pause.
Fists too fast for the naked eye to follow fell like torrential rain.
A sudden hurricane seemed to rise in the quiet alley.
After only a few dozen seconds, Jiro Awasaka could no longer hold on.
His cursed energy was forcibly beaten dry, not a drop left.
Yet he was not afraid.
Facing death, he instead revealed a fanatical smile, like a cultist willingly selling his soul to an evil god.
He struggled to turn his head toward Makoto, only to see half of his face.
Most of it was hidden by King Crimson.
Those cold eyes, however, seemed to glow with blood-red light.
A towering killing intent surged within them.
Merely meeting that gaze made the pressure rise sharply for no reason.
“That’s more like it.
Only like this can you free us curse users.” “Makoto, you must kill Satoru Gojo!” Pfft.
King Crimson punched down and pierced Jiro Awasaka’s chest.
Only then did Makoto turn and leave.
From beginning to end, he never asked the man’s name.
King Crimson faded away and returned into his body.
Makoto picked up the suitcase beside him and walked out of the alley as if nothing had happened.
If not for the blood spilled all over the ground, perhaps no one would have imagined that the infamous curse user Jiro Awasaka had been killed by Makoto.