"These things are worthless. Their souls are already shattered—they're just disposable tools."
Mahito leaned on his hand, eyeing the distorted bodies on the tables with thinly veiled boredom. From the shadows, Suguru Geto emerged, his presence instantly stirring the otherwise unresponsive figures.
Suguru Geto studied the squirming forms like one might admire a painting. Despite Mahito's complaint, he kept his usual calm smile.
"Even failures have value. Without them, my progress in this research wouldn't have come so far."
Mahito turned his attention to his mutating hand, exhaling heavily.
"You said this would help us deal with the Jujutsu Sorcerers. But how? At this rate, we'll be waiting forever."
It sounded like a petty gripe, but Geto understood the deeper frustration—Mahito's twisted desires weren't being fulfilled.
Given the strength of the current top Jujutsu Sorcerers, especially that one boy... even surviving an encounter seemed impossible. If the boy fought seriously, the result would be decided in mere seconds.
"Mahito, not everything in this world revolves around Jujutsu."
Mahito's interest perked slightly.
"So, that's why you brought in those foreign Spellcasters? Are you planning to target ordinary people too?"
Geto approached two of the restrained subjects, who had stopped moving and were now trembling. His smile deepened.
"The balance has already shifted. What we need now is a foreign element, something to stir the pot. Only then can our true plans move forward."
Mahito rubbed his chin, skeptical.
"You sure that's enough to handle the Jujutsu Sorcerers? We're not bringing Sukuna back just yet, right?"
Suguru Geto retrieved a small bead from his sleeve—mist swirled inside it. He placed it in one of the subject's mouths. The man began convulsing violently before falling still, breathless.
Geto let out a soft sigh.
"Thanks to these volunteers—and the many more to come—we'll get there."
…
Two days passed.
Ieiri Shoko had long since concluded her analysis of the Curse samples. The foreign Spellcasters had been unusually well-behaved since then, and no further reports of incidents or outbursts had surfaced. Surveillance had been tightened, but no irregularities were observed. They blended into a tourist group so convincingly it was difficult to justify any direct action.
Kamihara Hajime had only dealt with one rogue individual. Handling the entire group would be too much trouble unless absolutely necessary. For now, observation and containment would suffice.
But peace is always temporary.
That illusion shattered with the arrival of a new report.
"The Yakuza? They're still relevant? Did they trigger a Curse outbreak?"
Kamihara Hajime looked confused. Gojo Satoru responded with a snap of his fingers.
"Yeah, the Yakuza aren't what they used to be. Most of them drifted into gray-market industries after reforms. But the police still keep them under pressure—they can't risk any Curse-related incidents slipping through the cracks."
Gojo handed Hajime a document folder.
"This case actually started before the Spellcaster incident. It was just… subtle. No obvious link to Jujutsu at first."
Hajime skimmed through the ten or so pages, eyebrows knitting into a frown.
"Illegal goods? How is that connected to Curses?"
According to the intelligence, Yakuza in Osaka had been distributing contraband in entertainment venues. Initially, the scale wasn't alarming, but as the product gained popularity, competition disappeared—and the mysterious supplier never raised prices.
With profits soaring, the Yakuza turned a blind eye to everything else.
Then came the murder.
The suspect was a dropout, jobless and wasting away his family's money. He spent his days chasing fleeting highs until he tried this new product.
It changed him.
Strength surged through his body. His mind cleared in strange ways, yet he descended deeper into obsession. There were no visible side effects—at first. So he abandoned everything else for more.
Then one day, returning home, he found his girlfriend in bed with another man.
He snapped.
Rage fueled him. He fought the stranger, someone clearly more physically fit, and yet—he overpowered him with ease. Just as he was about to kill him, his girlfriend stabbed him in the back with a kitchen knife.
He pulled it out like it was nothing, his gaze dark. Then, he crushed the knife in his hand.
The pinned man tried to fight back but was immediately killed. One punch crushed his face; the second deformed his skull. He died on the spot.
The girlfriend, paralyzed in terror, could only whimper as she watched. Then, in an unstable frenzy, the suspect violated her—before killing her too.
According to forensic reports, the girl died before the mutilation occurred. Yet her body was found horribly disfigured, with nearly half of it missing—particularly the torso, thighs, and chest.
The room itself was a grotesque canvas. Blood soaked everything. The smell alone forced several officers to vomit.
The suspect was caught not long after. A half-naked man, drenched in blood and clearly unstable, wasn't hard to find.
And yet… he went down too easily. Despite the carnage he caused, he offered no resistance during arrest.
Later, in custody, he broke free of handcuffs and injured an officer with unnatural strength. The police opened fire, and when he died, they finally discovered the truth.
He had consumed the missing body parts.
His "weapons" were his mutated hands—bizarre enough to evade bite-mark detection, powerful enough to tear flesh and bone unaided.
More alarming, the police uncovered similar cases after the fact—none as extreme, but all hinting at the same substance.
Kamihara Hajime set down the file, rubbing his temples.
"This is tied to those foreign Spellcasters, isn't it?"
Gojo Satoru nodded.
"Yes. Not the exact same fusion technique, but the same principle. Those drugs are infused with Cursed Energy. They don't bestow Techniques, but they can enhance physical capabilities—at the cost of mental collapse."
"The local police are raiding every known site. But we can't wait. You're heading to Osaka. Get answers, Hajime."
"This can't be allowed to spread."
…
"This marks the beginning of a new age."
Suguru Geto sat comfortably on a plush sofa, addressing several sharply dressed executives with imposing auras.
Beside him stood a woman in a pale kimono, her short silver hair falling neatly around her face. If she had been standing in snow beside blooming plum blossoms, nature itself might have faded in comparison.
After showing them a video filled with disturbing events, skepticism still lingered on their faces.
Geto didn't bother to argue.
"Have any of you heard of Jujutsu?"
He gestured for the woman to bring over a tray.
"These are special viewing tools. Please, try them on."
As the group reluctantly donned the glasses, their expressions shifted from doubt to horror.
If any Jujutsu Sorcerers had been in that room, they'd have seen it too—a horde of twisted, violent Cursed Spirits.
"This is just an illusion, right? Some new AR tech?"
Smiling, Geto leaned forward.
"If you still doubt me, how about this: send out your best soldiers. Let's see how they fare against real Curses."
---
Thanks for the Powerstones
Apologies for not uploading the chapters earlier today
I've been sick (still am, actually, lol).
That said, I'll be switching the update time back to the original schedule: 6 PM to 7 PM (WAT).