Several kilometers in a straight line from Sugisawa High School, Uchiha Ayato dropped steadily down out of midair, the soles of his shoes coming to rest atop a snapped utility pole.
The rubble scattered all around and the scorched, acrid stench that had yet to fully disperse announced plainly that this was the source of that explosive blast just now.
There were no civilian casualties, nor any rampaging Cursed Spirits running wild—only this intersection beneath his feet, deliberately swept clear.
“A crude sort of lure.” Ayato brushed the dust from his sleeve, his gaze sweeping toward that thick, inky patch of shadow not far off, the Sharingan kindling an ominous glimmer in the night: “You went to all this trouble to set up such a shoddy little stage—and you still don’t intend to come out and greet your guest?
All this playing at ghosts and gods is hardly dignified.” As Uchiha Ayato’s voice fell away, the rhythmic sound of soles crunching over gravel came from the deepest part of the shadow.
A tall man, dressed in a black monk’s robe with a five-panel kasaya draped over it, walked out at an unhurried, measured pace.
The man was tall and slender, two black studs hanging from his earlobes; but the most arresting thing of all was the ferocious line of stitches across his forehead, like a centipede crawling over his skin.
Geto Suguru—once one of the four Special Grade Sorcerers.
But the one piloting this vessel now was not the man himself; rather, it was the sorcerer who had survived for a thousand years, the ultimate behind-the-scenes mastermind: Kenjaku.
“Don’t be so impatient now, young man.” The man tucked both hands into his wide sleeves, his narrow eyes squinting, his genial smile making it all too easy to take him for some stray monk out begging for alms: “If it were possible, I’d love to treat you to a cup of tea and chat at leisure—unfortunately, tonight’s stage is just a touch too crowded.” [Name: Zetsu (Parasitizing) Chakra: 5100k/5100k Level: Kage-Rank Second Stage (Practically a Deity)] “Oh?” Ayato arched an eyebrow: “If you’re so busy, then why bother luring me all the way out here?” “Uchiha Ayato—that’s how it’s written in the files, correct?” The monk paid no mind to Ayato’s piercing gaze, maintaining his composure all the while: “You’re an unexpected variable—a moth that should never have appeared on this chessboard.” Kenjaku tilted his head slightly, the curve of his lips slowly widening: “If you’d actually followed all the way to Sugisawa High School, that would have been troublesome.” “With your methods, you’d no doubt have swept those minor vengeful spirits clean away with the greatest of ease, wouldn’t you?” “And were that to happen, it would get in the way of that child…
becoming the vessel for ‘Sukuna.'” Uchiha Ayato’s gaze sharpened.
This pile of brains really was a doting mother to Itadori Yuji—mapping out his son’s entire road for him in advance, not permitting the slightest deviation.
Ahh, the quintessential Japanese family of origin.
“What a meticulous plan indeed…” Ayato toyed idly with the Kusanagi Sword, the straight blade’s edge reflecting the cold, clear moonlight: “So—you set off this little firecracker to lure me over because you mean to kill me here and be rid of the threat for good?” However, Kenjaku merely shook his head and let out a sigh: “By rights, eliminating you here would indeed be a highly efficient choice.” “But then—who told you to go and have such a troublesome guardian?” Kenjaku raised a hand, pointing at Ayato from afar: “You are, after all, someone that fellow Gojo Satoru has taken a shine to and singled out for special care.
For him to willingly act as a sorcerer’s sponsor—why, that’s a first.” “If I were to carelessly do you in now and provoke that troublesome lunatic, my whole plan would be utterly ruined.” The man slowly spread his arms wide, his ample kasaya billowing in the wind.
From the ground, from the walls, from behind the snapped utility poles…
great swaths of stagnant black cursed energy came surging out like a boiling swamp.
Dozens of Grade 3 and Grade 2 Cursed Spirits—their forms twisted, grinding their teeth with an ear-splitting screech—wormed their way up out of the shadows, drooling, packing the intersection so densely that not even water could have trickled through.
This was what he relied upon—Cursed Spirit Manipulation.
A vast horde of cheap cannon fodder—turned to the sole purpose of ‘buying time,’ it was nothing short of perfect.
“So—just think of it as doing me a little favor.” Kenjaku withdrew to the edge of the shadows, his face brimming with effortless ease: “Do please waste a little time here, with these little pets of mine.” Uchiha Ayato: Oh-ho, would you look at that!
Fresh mission materials!!
Arigatou—you’ve been a tremendous help!
The swarm of Cursed Spirits surged greedily toward Uchiha Ayato; the youth at the very center of the encirclement leapt lightly down, plunging straight into the heart of the twisted shadows.
The youth wove leisurely among the monsters’ severed limbs and broken stumps, and with every flash of his blade another Cursed Spirit was reduced to drifting ash.
That posture of his—rather than combat, it was more like a dance upon the very strings of death.
“Truly fine movements—not a sliver of cursed energy wasted, precise and flawless to the point of being frightening.” “Is it the doing of those eyes?
Do they heighten the precision of your cursed-energy control?” At the edge of the shadows, the kasaya-clad man unhurriedly lavished praise on Uchiha Ayato’s performance.
He was in no rush to draw in the net; rather, it was as though he were savoring a meticulously choreographed kabuki performance: “Uchiha-kun, to possess such keen instincts and such destructive power at this age—do you truly intend to fritter your days away in a decaying place like Jujutsu High?” “This world is growing dull, and those old men of the Higher-Ups, sitting around in their graves, will sooner or later burn a talented young man like you up like so much firewood.” “Why not join us, and create an entirely new world—what do you say?” Ayato turned aside to dodge a jet of spraying acid, then casually clamped another Cursed Spirit by the neck, using it as a shield to block the charge that came after.
He let out a yawn, his eyes full of perfunctory boredom: “This whole ‘let’s change the world together’ line—I got sick of reading it in comic books back when I was a kid.
Can’t you come up with something fresher?
Like, say, wiring a few hundred million yen into my account first?” “Monk, you can forget about recruiting me.” “That bunch of stubborn old fossils in the jujutsu world really is boring, but you see…” He stomped the ‘shield’ in his hand down into the asphalt, the ground splitting open like a spiderweb: “Compared to throwing in my lot with a furtive, skulking type like you, I’d still much rather stay somewhere pretty girls regularly send me love letters.” “Pretty girls, is it?
How very boyish of you.” Kenjaku gave a low chuckle: “But you’ve seen it for yourself—the true nature of this world is just this ugly.” “Those ‘ordinary people’ you protect, and these monsters born out of fear—sooner or later they’ll drag you down into the abyss as well.” “If you’re willing to join us, I can show you a truer, more powerful world.” “You’d best keep such things for your own daydreams—they’ll never come true.” Ayato sprang nimbly across the heads of the Cursed Spirit horde, not sparing Kenjaku so much as a single glance: “Say, are you running your mouth this much because your pets are such low quality that you’re afraid the show’ll be over before I even break a sweat?” Kenjaku narrowed his eyes and was just about to open his mouth again when a shudder-inducing chill abruptly burst forth from several kilometers away.
The entire night sky over Sendai was draped in a shade of dark crimson, visible to the naked eye, mingled with malice and madness.
It was not merely an eruption of cursed energy—it was more like a demon god, imprisoned for a thousand years, seizing back from the world, in this very moment, its right to draw breath.
Uchiha Ayato’s expression abruptly turned serious.
He leapt back atop the utility pole, and the three Tomoe within his Sharingan began to spin.
“So this is the result you were after?
The resurrection of the ‘King of Curses’?” Ayato looked down from on high upon Kenjaku in the shadows, a mocking smile surfacing on his face: “Alright, playtime ends here—I’m off to attend the real banquet.” “Seeing as you went to such pains to lure me here, you can spare me this level of playing house.” “Next time you want to play, remember to bring out some slightly more respectable ‘monsters’—ones that can actually get me excited.
This trash, not even fit to serve as a warm-up, is genuinely a blot on the whole affair’s class.” “Is that so?
Then what a pity, truly.” Kenjaku shrugged, scarcely a trace of apology audible in his voice: “But how do you intend to deal with these little ones?
Leave them be, and they’ll go off and harm ordinary people, you know.” “In that case, then let them—along with this dull little act of yours—all burn to ashes together.” Chakra surged through the husk of his body, and in the span of an instant Uchiha Ayato completed the hand seals.
“Fire Release: Great Fire Annihilation.” The youth’s chest swelled abruptly, and a tsunami-like tide of flame roared forth from his mouth.
It was a violence that seared the very space into distortion.
The golden-red heatwave engulfed the ground in a single instant; the ferocious, snarling small-fry Cursed Spirits had no time even to wail before they were carbonized and shattered outright in the extreme heat, and the concrete ground itself was reduced to lump after lump of murky, clouded glass.
[Long-Term Mission: Return one thousand Summoning Beasts to the Three Great Sacred Lands (450/1000).
Reward: Sage Mode] “Mere grains of sand—not worth half of me.” “Kanā~” In the very instant Kenjaku raised a hand to shield himself from that blinding light, amid the sky-high heatwave and the surging smoke and dust, the youth nodded in satisfaction—and the next second he abruptly vanished, as though he had never existed in this space at all.
At the sight of this, Kenjaku—who had kept up his placid expression all along—snapped his eyes wide in an instant, his face filled with sheer astonishment.
That means of vanishing in the blink of an eye—it was absolutely not something mere physical techniques could accomplish.
Was it that brat’s own Cursed Technique?
No!
That was…
The Limitless technique???
____ 👻🔥Here: Walnut-chan🔥👻 🔥 New history: Uchiha Reborn in Jujutsu Kaisen: The System Thinks I’m in Konoha, but I’m Not We have set new community milestones: