The sea split in half.
Not metaphorically. Not in a poetic, "oh look how dramatic" way.
No — it literally parted like a curtain being yanked open by an angry god.
Luffy's sandals skidded slightly on the slick rock as the air around him twisted with cursed energy. Sukuna stood at the center of it all, arms raised, laughing as his Domain Expansion began to form — a wicked cathedral of bone and blood taking shape around them.
"Do you know what fear tastes like, pirate?" Sukuna asked, fangs bared in both his mouths.
Luffy grinned wider. "Nah," he said. "I usually just taste meat."
Sukuna's eyes narrowed.
Then came a sound neither of them expected — a dull, flat thud. Not mystical. Not destructive. Just… casual.
Someone had landed behind them.
Sukuna didn't even turn. "Another bug to swat?" he sighed.
Luffy, however, squinted over his shoulder — and then his jaw dropped.
Standing in the middle of the cursed sea foam, wearing a hero cape that flapped awkwardly in the wind, was a bald man with a grocery bag in one hand and absolutely zero spiritual pressure.
Like, not low cursed energy.
None.
"Yo," Luffy called. "You lost?"
Saitama looked around, totally uninterested in the grotesque cathedral of cursed flesh growing around him.
"Huh," he said. "Weird neighbourhood."
Sukuna twitched. "You dare ignore my presence?" he hissed.
Saitama looked up, blinked. "Oh, sorry. You talking to me?"
The cathedral snapped into full form — jagged pillars rose around them; the sky overhead bleeding red. Sukuna's Domain Expansion was now active. Inside it, even the strongest spirits and jujutsu sorcerers had seconds to live.
Saitama scratched his cheek. "Nice decorations."
"You're in my world now," Sukuna growled. "A place built to annihilate your soul."
Saitama raised a single eyebrow. "Huh. Neat."
Sukuna launched forward — cursed slashes blurring the air, tearing chunks of reality apart.
He was fast.
But Saitama was still standing when it ended. Not a scratch on him.
In fact, he looked kind of annoyed.
"You done?" he asked, voice low.
Luffy's eyes bulged. "What the hell is this guy made of?!"
Sukuna's mouth curled into a growl. "You will break."
Saitama sighed. Then flicked him.
Just. Flicked. Him.
Sukuna's body teleported across the cathedral, slamming into a pillar hard enough to shake the bones of the structure itself.
He coughed. Blood. Real blood.
For the first time in centuries, Sukuna was hurt.
Saitama looked down at his finger. "Huh," he muttered. "I wasn't even trying that time."
Beneath layers of steel, silence ruled. Not even the guards at the facility moved. Every inch of the underground was packed with cursed seals, chakra barriers, Ki stabilizers, and surveillance Haki sensors.
None of them detected the man who walked straight through the wall.
Satoru Gojo smiled as he stepped inside the vault, Six Eyes shimmering with mischief and calculation.
His fingers danced in midair, deactivating every trap without touching a single one.
Then he saw it.
The chamber.
A tall cylinder of glowing blue crystal — and inside, floating in stasis like some forgotten relic of war… a teenage boy with spiky hair, scarred arms, and a furry tail drifting weightlessly behind him.
Gojo's grin dropped.
On the pod was a symbol burned into the glass: a dragon swallowing a sun.
Underneath it, three words:
PROJECT: KAKAROT
Gojo's voice was barely a whisper.
"...What the hell have they done?"
In a shadowy room, lit only by a flickering monitor, several figures in cloaks watched the battle feed from the Southern Archipelago.
They watched Sukuna fall.
They watched Saitama stand.
One of them — the tallest, draped in a cape of darkness and chains — laughed softly.
"Let them wake up," he said. "Let them discover the truth."
He turned, eyes glowing beneath his hood.
"Then we take it all."
The others bowed.
Because Blackbeard had spoken.