"Yeah, that one's pretty much impossible. I regret it too."
Roy shrugged helplessly.
No matter how hard he searched, he couldn't obtain Gojo's DNA data. Unless another Limitless user appeared in this world, he'd never have access to that technique.
Moreover, the Limitless technique required the Six Eyes to unleash its true potential.
This option was never on the table to begin with—completely unattainable.
Megumi nodded and continued scrolling.
Next were Yuta Okkotsu's Copy technique, Yuki Tsukumo's Star Rage, and Geto Suguru's Cursed Spirit Manipulation.
All Special Grade sorcerers.
And one of them was already dead—likely making Cursed Spirit Manipulation impossible to obtain.
Megumi glanced at the columns beside the names and confirmed that neither Star Rage nor Cursed Spirit Manipulation had checks.
But Yuta Okkotsu's Copy technique was already marked.
"I wouldn't recommend that one. Without a shikigami like Rika Orimoto, you can't sustain the Copy technique."
"True."
Megumi agreed with a nod.
Yuta Okkotsu was the only senior at Jujutsu High he respected—kind, approachable, and never secretive about his technique's mechanics.
Without a special shikigami capable of externalizing and storing techniques, the Copy technique would be useless.
Further down was his own Ten Shadows Technique, unsurprisingly checked, followed by Projection Sorcery, Ratio Technique, Construction, and others—most already marked.
He even spotted Sukuna's Cleave and Kugisaki's Straw Doll Technique, both checked.
No wonder Roy-sensei could even use the King of Curses' techniques—he was practically the embodiment of the unreasonable.
"I'll choose this one!"
Megumi's gaze settled on a particular technique, and he made his decision.
"Are you sure?"
Roy glanced at his choice and raised an eyebrow.
"Positive."
After only a brief moment of thought, Megumi nodded firmly.
"Great, then it's a deal!"
Roy snapped his fingers cheerfully.
With this, once Roy inscribed the Ten Shadows Technique onto himself, Mahoraga would belong to him.
Megumi would also get the technique he wanted, and his self-destructive tendencies would be a thing of the past—a win-win!
As for Sukuna...
Without Mahoraga, how would he learn Dismantle?
That wasn't Roy's problem.
Wish him luck.
...
Under the night sky.
Deep in the alley far from the bustling city, like a shadow encircling the light, stood an old bar with a distinctly vintage feel.
Inside the bar, Okita sat at the counter, holding a glass in her hand but merely spinning it around without any intention of taking a sip.
"I see."
Kenjaku hung up his phone, his refined face showing a hint of displeasure.
"Granny Ogami failed and is now rushing to leave the country. I didn't expect such a simple mission to go awry, especially after I went through the trouble of subduing that special-grade finger curse for her."
In this bar under the night sky, only the two of them were present.
The crimson finger at the juvenile detention center—that was his doing.
Undoubtedly, it was one of Sukuna's twenty fingers.
A certain curse born there had swallowed that finger, gaining immense power and becoming a special-grade imaginary curse.
The purpose was to add insurance to this mission, ensuring Granny Ogami could capture at least one of those three students.
To that end, he had even subdued that special-grade curse in advance, making it cooperate with Granny Ogami's task.
Yet, the mission still failed!
The cause of failure undoubtedly lay with that guy named Roy.
He had even arranged for the higher-ups to assign Roy an overseas mission, ensuring he wouldn't return for at least a week. How did he manage to appear at the juvenile detention center so promptly?
"What a hassle."
Kenjaku sighed, his face full of resignation.
"A hassle? You seem quite composed to me."
Okita glanced at Kenjaku, her tone as indifferent as ever, betraying no emotion.
"You look perfectly at ease. Already have the next plan in mind? Planning to stir up something again?"
"Well, let's save that for later."
Kenjaku smiled faintly, sidestepping Okita's question.
Okita also adopted an air of indifference.
"Why are you so eager to capture his students? What exactly are you after?"
"That's simple enough."
Kenjaku chuckled dismissively.
"During the battle in Shinjuku last time, he captured a curse named Mahito. That curse is somewhat important to me, so I plan to take his students hostage to exchange for Mahito's return."
He was referring to Roy's debut battle in this world, where he soundly defeated Jogo, Hanami, and Mahito.
After wandering for a thousand years, Kenjaku had only one goal: to initiate the Culling Game, resurrecting ancient sorcerers in this era through vessels and pitting them against modern sorcerers in a battle royale. This would assimilate all 100 million people in Japan with Tengen, creating a pseudo-curse entity of unimaginable power from the collective cursed energy, ushering this world into the next.
In simpler terms—destroying the world.
No particular reason. Just for the amusement of seeing such a spectacle unfold.
This plan required Mahito's Idle Transfiguration technique at certain stages.
Although it's possible to carry out the Culling Game to a certain extent without using the Idle Transfiguration technique, doing so would result in severely insufficient assimilation conditions. It would require several times more effort to compensate for the numerous flaws and achieve the goal, making the process extremely troublesome.
If possible, Kenjaku naturally wished to retrieve Mahito.
However, at present, the likelihood of rescuing him from Roy's grasp was quite low.
Roy's strength was overwhelming, and the key issue was his elusive nature—his movements and whereabouts were completely unpredictable.
Adding to that, Kenjaku couldn't show his face in front of Jujutsu High's people while dealing with Satoru Gojo, making rescuing Mahito an exceptionally difficult task.
The current strategy remained to capture one of Roy's students as a hostage to exchange for Mahito.
Only if that failed would they consider other methods.
"What a dull reason."
"Haha, I won't deny that."
Kenjaku chuckled noncommittally.
There was no need for anger anyway.
Once he completed the Culling Game, the world would be over.
Everyone would die—not a single soul spared.
Creak!
At that moment, the wooden door of the bar suddenly let out a groaning sound.
A tall figure strode in from outside.
The man wore a roguish grin, gripping a bloodstained blade in his hand. An overwhelming stench of blood clung to him, and malice radiated from his very being.
"Yo!"
The man waved at Kenjaku, who stood behind the bar counter as he entered.
"I'm a little surprised. Never thought the mastermind behind that request would be you. Had I known, I wouldn't have held back at the Star Corridor—should've just cut you down right then and there."
Okita glanced at the newcomer, her expression unchanging.
Roy, however, hidden behind her, was inwardly startled.
"He actually tracked us here? And in just half a day?"
Even Kenjaku's composure flickered for a moment when he recognized the man's face.
"Toji Fushiguro? Why are you—ah, I see. That damn old hag—useless as ever!"
The man in the bar had messy black hair, a bold and arrogant smirk, and a powerfully built physique. An aura of overwhelming strength emanated from him.
It was Toji Fushiguro!
Kenjaku pieced everything together almost instantly, his face twisting with disgust as he openly cursed Granny Ogami.
"Come to think of it, I owe my return to the living world to you. If you hadn't sent someone to kidnap my son, I wouldn't have been summoned back."
Toji tightened his grip on the bloodied blade, advancing step by step toward the counter.
A terrifying killing intent oozed from his entire being, like a tiger poised to strike at any moment. The sword in his hand—clearly a cursed tool, though not particularly strong—seemed to have been taken from someone else.
Okita subtly tensed, her guard rising sharply.
"This guy is strong!"
While her Master could share her vision, she couldn't see through his.
Without shared intel, she didn't know who this man was, but the sheer force of his presence and murderous intent put her on the highest alert.
"So, you came here for revenge?" Kenjaku maintained his gentle smile.
But his foot shifted slightly back under the counter, his entire body—especially his legs—coiling with tension.
"Revenge?"
Toji looked at him as if the idea was ridiculous.
Then, his killing intent flared violently, his features twisting with madness.
"I just came to wipe out the roots!"
The moment the words left his lips—
Toji appeared before the counter as if teleporting, his blade raised high before slashing down at Kenjaku with furious force!
Almost the moment Toji sprang into action, Kenjaku also retreated without hesitation.
Toji's blade came down, splitting the entire bar counter in half with a single stroke, sending wood and glass flying in all directions.
Okita instinctively leaped backward, putting distance between herself and the shattered counter.
"Uraume!"
Kenjaku barely dodged the first strike, cold sweat instantly beading on his forehead. Without hesitation, he waved his hand, summoning several cursed spirits and hurling them toward Toji while shouting the name of that monk with the sister-like haircut, then bolted toward the kitchen.
Toji swung his blade several times in succession, effortlessly dismantling the cursed spirits thrown his way. But by then, Kenjaku had already dashed into the kitchen, followed immediately by a sudden surge of frigid air roaring out like a miniature tornado, swirling violently through the cramped bar.
In less than a second, frost began forming thickly across Toji's body. As ice started encasing him, Toji grinned fiercely and charged straight into the kitchen!
"Miss Okita, Uraume and I will be taking our leave now. We'll contact you at the next rendezvous point—assuming, of course, you survive this encounter. Best of luck!"
Kenjaku's voice echoed from outside the bar. Moments later, a massive bird-like cursed spirit took flight, carrying Kenjaku and Uraume skyward before vanishing into the night within seconds.
Toji burst out of the bar, blade in hand. A gaping hole marked the wall behind him, his face twisted in displeasure. The entire kitchen had been frozen solid, layer upon layer of impossibly hard ice. Even with his monstrous strength, it had taken multiple slashes to carve an escape path—any longer, and he might have suffocated inside.
As soon as he emerged, his gaze locked onto Okita standing nearby. Her agate-like eyes gleamed with irritation.
That bastard Kenjaku had slipped away far too smoothly. She'd intended to avoid conflict with this man, but with no orders from her Master forthcoming, she'd remained outside the bar—only to end up isolated. It was hard not to suspect Kenjaku's parting words had been meant to discard her as a decoy, deliberately drawing Toji's attention.
"Are you his subordinate? Or his ally?" Toji's murderous grin returned as he regarded Okita. "Doesn't matter. You're not leaving here alive tonight."
With that, he lunged forward, swinging his blade in a devastating horizontal arc.
"So fast!" Okita's expression sharpened, her gaze turning razor-focused. Toji's speed was unreal—rivaling even Heracles from the Holy Grail War. There was no time to wait for her Master's instructions. She'd have to handle this herself.
Though Toji moved like lightning, Okita possessed the skill known as "Mind's Eye." With her innate, supreme-grade pseudo-clairvoyance, she had an almost preternatural intuition for danger. The instant Toji attacked, she sensed the threat and retreated just in time to evade the first slash.
At the same moment, she reached out and manifested the famed sword Kajiki Kiyomitsu in her hand, thrusting it toward the opening in Toji's defense with a reverse slash!
"Quite skilled for such a young girl, aren't you?"
Seeing that Okita had not only dodged his full-powered first strike but even counterattacked, a hint of surprise flashed across Toji's face.
Immediately after, he retracted his blade with incredible speed, deflecting Souji's thrust.
"This strength...?"
Toji sensed something unusual.
This girl's thrust carried astonishing power!
His eyes sharpened, and without the slightest hesitation, he swung his blade at Okita with a series of ruthless, killing-intent-laden strikes. His movements were broad and unrestrained, like a general charging across a battlefield, exuding an aura of invincibility.
Okita's gaze remained icy as she met Toji's slashes with her own. Her sword speed was no slower than his, and in contrast, her swordsmanship was more akin to an assassin's—each strike aimed for Toji's vital points, each carrying the scent of death.
Their blade techniques were vastly different, yet their sword flashes crisscrossed like lightning, evenly matched for the moment.