The calm alley behind the red-light district suddenly erupted with wild gusts.
It was the storm created by the collision between Makoto and Toji Fushiguro.
Makoto stood in place without moving, but the fists of his Stand, King Crimson, poured forward like a raging storm.
As the final boss Stand of JoJo’s fifth part, King Crimson naturally had excellent stats.
Its destructive power and speed were both top-class A-ranks.
If Makoto wanted, he could easily punch through a building.
Yet even such an intense barrage failed to break through Toji Fushiguro’s defense.
The other man’s fists were no weaker than King Crimson’s in either strength or speed.
As four fists collided, the walls on both sides of the alley were shaken to pieces, and the ground beneath their feet rapidly cracked apart.
The tremendous commotion threw the people in the adult entertainment district into panic.
For a moment, they thought an earthquake had struck.
In reality, it was merely the result of two people’s fists clashing.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Toji Fushiguro’s expression did not change.
He was calm, composed, and powerful.
He was not a jujutsu sorcerer and had inherited none of the Zenin clan’s powerful cursed techniques.
Yet he was genuinely one of the strongest people in Tokyo’s jujutsu world, ranked as a Grade 1 sorcerer.
It was hard to imagine.
A human born with zero cursed energy had reached Grade 1 as a sorcerer through his body alone.
Although he was not the highest Special Grade, no one dared provoke him.
That was because a body shaped by Heavenly Restriction was extremely special.
Heaven had granted him immense resistance to cursed energy and cursed techniques.
Even Domain Expansion, which was said to be invincible, could have its common sense broken by Heavenly Restriction.
“Hmph!” Makoto snorted.
His body, which had been standing still, suddenly shot forward.
His speed was so great that even Toji Fushiguro looked at him with new interest.
“So while controlling a cursed spirit, your main body can attack too.” Seeing Makoto circle behind him, surprise flashed through Toji Fushiguro’s eyes.
He did not dare look down on Makoto’s body.
The physical strength of a Heavenly-Restricted Tyrant could not be judged by common sense.
No one understood that better than him.
“Die!” Makoto roared and swung both fists, attacking together with his Stand.
One in front and one behind, they trapped Toji Fushiguro in the middle.
In an instant, a yellow rainstorm warning upgraded into a red rainstorm warning.
The same Heavenly-Restricted body, the same naturally zero cursed energy.
Makoto’s attacks were as swift and fierce as those of his Stand, King Crimson.
Toji Fushiguro felt pressure.
His easy posture disappeared, and he shifted from offense to defense.
One hundred punches!
Two hundred punches!
Three hundred punches!
How many had there been?
There was no way to count.
Toji Fushiguro only knew that pain was coming from every part of his body.
Makoto’s fists had hammered him everywhere.
Though none of it was fatal, he truly had not suffered a beating like this in a long time.
“If it’s this kid, maybe he actually could…” Boom!
While Toji Fushiguro was thinking, Makoto suddenly swept out a whip-like kick, fast as the wind.
It struck Toji heavily in the abdomen and sent him flying.
He crashed into a wall with a thunderous boom, smashing straight through it, then kept flying backward, breaking through several more walls and sending dust billowing into the air.
Customers and staff inside the entertainment district screamed continuously.
“Even if that didn’t kill him, it should have taken him out of the fight.” Makoto withdrew his leg.
King Crimson floated to his side like his most loyal guard, staring ahead together with him.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Makoto walked forward, passing through seven broken walls before stopping.
“That hurt like hell.
You almost broke my ribs.” He was not dead!
Makoto narrowed his eyes.
Toji Fushiguro had endured so many of his attacks and still looked completely fine.
Could such an existence really be called human?
Toji brushed the dust from his body.
The scar at the corner of his mouth split open as he laughed.
Makoto also noticed that at some point, a cursed spirit had appeared on Toji Fushiguro’s body.
His superhuman senses allowed him to catch it: a snake-like monster coiled around Toji’s entire body.
“Let me teach you one bit of common sense about the jujutsu world, kid.” “People like us can’t exorcise evil spirits bare-handed.” “Because we don’t have any cursed energy, and cursed spirits can ignore physical attacks.” Cursed spirits.
The jujutsu world.
This man had been repeating those terms since just now.
Makoto did not understand them, but he knew that the world he was in was not ordinary.
It was not the world of JoJo, because after all these years, he had never met a second Stand user.
“If we want to exorcise cursed spirits like those sorcerers do, we need certain tools.
For example, cursed tools…” The moment those last two words fell, Makoto’s figure had already appeared beside Toji Fushiguro.
Together with King Crimson, one on the left and one on the right, he boxed Toji in again.
His movement was so fast that the dust stirred up where he had stood had not even settled before Makoto had appeared at Toji Fushiguro’s side.
“You talk too much.” Makoto attacked directly.
This time, he swore he would crush the man before him.
“What an impatient kid.” Toji Fushiguro’s eyes grew sharper.
With incredible speed, he lowered his head and dodged the iron fists of Makoto and King Crimson.
The next moment, the cursed spirit on his body spat something from its mouth.
It was a blade.
“What?!” Caught by the unexpected development, Makoto looked down.
His gaze met Toji Fushiguro’s as the other man looked up.
In the next instant, Toji grabbed the hilt and drew it as if performing an iaido slash.
He swept Makoto into the air with a low kick, then turned with the momentum and slashed at King Crimson.
Time seemed to freeze.
Only Toji Fushiguro’s wild laughter rang out.
Pfft pfft pfft pfft pfft.
The next second, silver blade-light streaked through the air like meteors.
In the span of a single breath, King Crimson was covered in wounds.
And because Makoto controlled King Crimson, because it was the manifestation of his spiritual power, Makoto’s body also burst with blood.
Every wound carved into King Crimson appeared on his body.
“It cut…
King Crimson…” Makoto stared at it all in shock.
Finally, he fell weakly to the ground with a dull thud.
“So that was a cursed tool too…” Only now did he recall that from the very beginning, this man had been able to clash with King Crimson.
A Stand was a form of spiritual energy.
Under ordinary logic, it should not be something a normal human could touch.
“Hey, kid.
Want to come with me?” Toji Fushiguro slid the blade back into the mouth of his cursed spirit, casually stuffed a glove in after it, then crouched and asked Makoto, “If you don’t say anything, I’ll take that as a yes.” Makoto had no strength left to answer him.
Soon, he felt himself being hoisted onto someone’s shoulder, and his consciousness began to blur.
In the haze, he heard, “A monster like you isn’t suited to running a street stall.
Work with me.
If it’s you, you might even be able to take on that kid from the Gojo family.” That kid from the Gojo family?
Who?