With Ray now completely off their radar, a lingering unease gnawed at Satoru's instincts. Despite his usual air of confidence, the unpredictable absence of someone so capable—and so dangerous—left a knot of tension in his gut. Still, priorities had to be set. A member of the Chat Group had died in that cursed metro, and Tanya and Subaru were still deployed down there. Reinforcements were overdue.
Accompanied by Megumi and the recently returned Yuji—whose reappearance had been quietly orchestrated and hidden by Satoru and Principal Yaga—the trio descended into the abandoned metro station.
But the moment their feet touched the platform, all three halted.
Not a trace of Cursed Energy remained.
Even areas purged by expert sorcerers usually left behind residual malevolence—hints of spiritual decay or psychic turbulence. But here? It was as if the curses had never existed.
[Satoru Gojo: Where are you all?]
Moments later, Tanya responded with an image.
[Tanya: Image.jpg]
The photo revealed an eerie, dilapidated train station, its walls lined with ceremonial seals and talismans aged with time—signs of a powerful force once restrained here. At the center stood Subaru, holding an unassuming wooden box. But what drew the eye wasn't him—it was the being behind him.
A celestial figure, at least eight meters tall, floated silently in the air. Its six pairs of radiant wings shimmered with ethereal light, casting divine shadows against the cracked concrete. In its hand rested a silvery-gold mace, exuding an overwhelming holy pressure that made even the photo feel sanctified. To Satoru, it looked like something from the Book of Revelations… or a cheat-level summon from a gacha game. He felt a flicker of professional jealousy.
[Tanya: We recovered a Sukuna Finger.]
[Tanya: It was surprisingly easy after Ainz lent us this angel. The cursed spirits combusted the moment they entered its aura. Like moths flying into a bonfire.]
[Tanya: We're returning now. Prepare a containment unit for the Finger.]
Satoru stared at the image again, brows knitting in thought. An angel that could purify curses on contact... He hated to admit it, but he was starting to wonder just how many broken cards the Chat Group had up their sleeves.
Satoru Gojo replied and ordered his team to dive in and regroup with Tanya's team.
[Satoru Gojo: Alright. We are coming. Just stay there and wait.]
———
High up on a creaky, half-finished construction site, lit only by the occasional flicker of floodlights and the distant hum of the city, an odd family of monsters waited in the dark.
Nestled comfortably in Yue's arms like a plush toy was Ray. His tail swayed lazily as Yue silently hugged him tighter, her face calm and unreadable as usual. She hadn't said a word for the past hour. She didn't need to. She had Ray, and that was all that mattered.
"…Yue's hogging Daddy again…" Jack puffed her cheeks out from where she sat, dangling her legs off the edge of a steel beam. "That's not fair. I wanted snuggles too…"
"...No…" Yue said flatly, her voice dripping with possessiveness as if Ray was her only anchor in life.
"That's not fair!" Jack whined, flopping backwards onto the cold beam with a groan. "I'm boooored! I thought we were gonna fight a big spicy guy! Where is he? Did he get scared? Can't you just snap your paw and make him appear, dad?"
"Why do I feel like I'm the only one here without any attention…" Shinobu muttered, still munching on a donut while squatting on a stack of lumber nearby.
Ray blinked slowly. "I literally just gave you more donuts, Shinobu."
"That's not the same," Shinobu replied through a mouthful. Her cheeks puffed up like a hamster as she growled adorably.
Across the platform, Evangeline reclined in a floating chair, legs crossed, sipping tea from a delicate and intricate porcelain cup she'd conjured with her magic. "I sensed his presence for a moment but he seemed to hesitate before leaving."
Jack huffed, kicking her feet at the steel beam. "Ugh! I don't wanna wait anymore! Let's go hunt him down!"
Eva shrugged and said nothing but her eyes turned to Ray for his decision.
Jack sat up, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can we make the city go Boom?! To get his attention? Like exploding the city!" She mimed an explosion with her hands, complete with sound effects.
"Let's not jump straight to terrorism," Ray muttered.
"Pretty please?" Jack looked over with wide, hopeful eyes.
"No."
"Meanie…"
Ray shifted upright on Yue's lap to a sitting position as she subconsciously pulled him closer. "Well, since it's pointless to wait… you can go hunt him down." Ray gave Jack the green light.
Yue nodded once, already lifting one hand which instantly tore open a ripple in space—still hugging Ray tightly with the other. Her portal shimmered like still ink, so dark it seemed to swallow light, silent and too smooth to be natural.
"Need a tracking spell, then?" Eva asked, letting her teacup vanish with a flick of her finger along with the furniture before quickly constructing a tracking spell for Jack.
Shinobu sighed. "Finally some action. My legs were starting to cramp…" She said, wolfing down the last two piece of donuts before dusting her hands clean.
"I'll stab him in the legs for running away like a coward!!" Jack giggled, skipping toward the portal with childlike glee.
Ray sighed dryly. "Just don't overdo it. We need him to be alive after the fun."
"Okay! I'll only do a little stabby here and there! Promise!"
As they stepped through the portal—Eldritch cat, quiet vampire, hyperactive murder-loli, smug vampire witch, and ignored donut gremlin—the city remained unaware of what was coming.
But somewhere… Jogo who was fuming from the sudden order to meet up with Geto suddenly felt an unprecedented chill unlike any cursed energy he'd known crawled up his spine, like some ancient evil deity had just looked his way and flinched. And he didn't know why.
"Tch, if I catch those people later. I'll make them regret provoking me." Jogo cursed, unaware that Geto is actually trying to save him.
———
Weaving through the underbelly of the city that had been shrouded by the darkness of the late evening. Jogo is feeling more and more irritated.
Because Geto ordered him to meet up immediately, he had to rush there quickly and he had to avoid the main streets too because the Jujutsu High had plenty of their informants looking over Tokyo and he could be seen if he didn't be careful.
But when he took the next turn on the dark back alley. He suddenly felt like the atmosphere had changed along with his surroundings.
Instead of the usual back alley to Tokyo city, it was replaced with an endless curtain of thick, pale and cold foggy streets which he had barely a few meters of vision.
Everything becomes dim and grayscale, tinged with flickers of crimson where lanterns hang, barely burning in the gloomy and foggy street. The air is so cold, damp, and thick with a suffocating presence that clings to the skin like death itself was stalking him beyond the corners.
Outlines of old brick buildings line crooked cobbled streets, warped and exaggerated like a child's attempt to draw a city. Windows that were never there, now stare blankly with no light behind them—some cracked, others blood-smeared. Shadows dance unnaturally under gaslights that flicker in and out of existence like wraith haunting him.
Echoes of distant footsteps reached his ears, always one step behind him, but the moment he turned around. He saw no one and it happened constantly no matter where he turned.
The fog is not just mist—it feels alive. It slithers along the ground, writhing around ankles and choking his throats, distorting sounds and swallowing screams. Within it, dozens of different blurry spectral figures—faceless, hunched forms, shuffle endlessly, moaning without mouths. They're like the byproducts of a forgotten child's trauma, condemned to wander this twisted realm.
Within this monotone horror, Jogo can sense the prances of someone on barefoot, giggling and knives scraping against each other. A childish and girly voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere as if whispering to him as if asking him to join her for a game of tags.
"Who was it?!" Jogo reacted instantly in paranoia and sent an explosive wave of swearing heat around him that caused the very air to crackle.
But, it was to no avail as the fog swallowed all and his flames too like harmless pebbles into the pond which made him suspect it was an Illusion Cursed Technique or a Domain.
"Let's play with us, Mister."
Jogo heard another whisper from behind him which he instantly jumped and turned before sending a molten rock. But it was similarly swallowed by the fog around him.
Seeing his attack fail again, Jogo instantly felt a fear from the depth of his heart but he immediately suppressed it and howled.
"Show your damn self! Do you think this fog can scare me!" Jogo screamed as flame erupts from him and twisted the surrounding air with sheer heat.
The flames that erupted from Jogo's body roared like a living inferno, distorting the crooked world around him. Gas lamps shattered from the pressure, their dim crimson lights snuffed out in an instant. The ground cracked beneath his molten presence, bubbling as though the cobblestone streets themselves were beginning to melt.
But the fog… remained.
It didn't recoil. It didn't scream. It didn't burn.
It shifted—as if it sighed.
His flames were devoured, not by a counterattack, but by a world that simply refused to acknowledge heat as a threat. The oppressive cold crawled back in before the embers could even fade, coating the space like frost on a grave.
Then—tap… tap… tap…
Soft, wet footsteps echoed from somewhere to his left. Barefoot.
Jogo turned sharply, one burning eye narrowed, smoke venting from his volcanic head. Nothing.
Tap… tap… tap…
This time, behind him. A child's giggle fluttered through the air, followed by a wet slithering of something dragging across the cobbles.
"You're it now, Mister..."
A silhouette appeared—briefly—far ahead in the mist. Small, childlike. Hands behind her back. Her head tilted just a bit too far to one side, a tangle of long hair swaying gently. And then—gone, like a figment exhaled into the fog.
Jogo growled.
"You brat—if this is some kind of Domain Expansion—then I'll tear it apart and incinerate your bones!"
He opened his mouth wide, gathering an orb of molten fire, ready to unleash a beam of destruction. But then—
Something cold.
Ice-cold steel embedded in his flesh.
It stabbed his thigh.
Reflexively, Jogo jumped backward and blasted the ground below, turning it into molten slag—but nothing was there.
Then, a flicker. Something dashed across the corner of his vision—right in front of him. He turned to attack—but nothing again.
Laughter echoed around him—multiple voices now, giggling, overlapping. One sounded playful. Another sounded wrong—like it was mimicking a child, but not quite right. Too hollow. Too sharp.
Shink… shink…
The sound of knives scraping, again and again. It scraped not against metal, but against bone.
Jogo's senses, honed for battle, started to fray under the tension. His Domain was still intact—he hadn't been trapped in a true Domain Expansion, he could feel that. But this place felt just as real. Just as deadly. The world itself was holding him in place like a trap and he is the mouse.
And then—
A cut.
Thin and deep. Across the back of his calf.
He hissed in pain, staggering slightly. The flesh melted and reformed—but it stung. It had bypassed his raw heat. It shouldn't have.
A whisper came directly into his ear, far too close:
"You're bleeding, Mister. That's not good. But I can help you stitch it back."
Then a giggle and a sudden rush of cold air as if something had darted past his back again. This time, he reacted faster, sending a stream of volcanic magma in the direction of the sound—but all he hit was fog and shadow.
The laughter didn't stop.
The shadows began to close in. Dozens of small, hunched forms—faceless and pale, twitching unnaturally—shuffled toward him through the mist. They didn't scream. They didn't run. They just stared, or would have, if they had faces. And in their midst, darting between them like a spider among corpses, was a barely clothed girl with white hair and a large scar on her left eye.
Her eyes were glimmering pinpricks in the fog, and her breath steamed in the freezing air.
She didn't attack yet.
She was playing.
And Jogo, for the first time in decades, was not the predator.
He was the one being hunted.
"Damn you, brat!!!" Jogo exploded with a fiery flame.
—————
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