Scarlet blood splattered across the walls and floor, carrying with it a sickening metallic stench that quickly filled the air.
Gojo Satoru wrinkled his nose in open disgust.
It stinks.
"Hahaha—"
Despite its body being riddled with five gaping wounds, Tanaka senior—the man who only hours ago had been an ordinary hospital security guard—grinned wildly, laughing like a lunatic. His laughter was not born from madness alone but from certainty.
Because he felt it.
His summon has succeeded!
A response from the other side. Not a weakling either—at least an intermediate-level demon.
His gamble had paid off.
My lord, forgive me, he thought frantically. I've only just arrived in this world. I haven't even tasted its pleasures yet. If I want to survive, I can only rely on you…!
The blood that had splashed out from his body no longer dripped freely.
Instead, it gathered unnaturally, sliding across the floor as if pulled by invisible strings, forming a glowing crimson six-pointed star.
The ominous magic circle pulsed with life, demonic energy surging outward in waves.
Its body began to wither in exchange, his once muscular frame shrinking, his face etched with exhaustion. The summoning was taking its toll, consuming his vitality. Still, he laughed. His life meant nothing compared to what was about to arrive.
The circle's light intensified, blazing brighter and brighter, until finally—
A tall silhouette emerged from the heart of the formation.
"My lord, welcome…" It's cracked voice rasped in reverence.
RIIPPPP!
The sound of flesh tearing cut his words short.
"Eh—!?" His voice broke as his eyes dropped in disbelief. A powerful arm had pierced straight through his chest, the demon's clawed hand gripping his still-beating heart.
"you… why?"
His voice trembled with horror. He knew better than anyone what that meant. The heart of a demon was the very source of their power. Destroy it, and everything disintegration—strength, form, even existence itself.
Anywhere else could suffer wounds, but the heart was sacred, protected, treasured.
"Little worm," the figure sneered. "You really thought you could summon me with your pathetic blood? Hahaha—! Don't flatter yourself. I only came here because I needed a new container."
The one who had appeared was no savior. He was a high-level demon, radiating oppressive power that dwarfed it's own pitiful presence.
Without another word, the demon clenched his hand, crushing the heart within his grasp.
Blood gushed out from his hand.
Its eyes blurry, his body collapsing lifelessly to the floor, as his whole being turn to ashes, slowly, without any pain, without any suffering, just helpless.
Ironically, he hadn't even died by Gojo's hand, but by the very demon he had called for aid.
The middle-aged man-like figure stepped fully into the world, his form marked with demonic traits—horns jutting from his skull, blackened veins crawling along his skin, nails sharp like daggers. He licked the blood dripping from his hand, as his gaze immediately locking on to Gojo Satoru, who was simply watching.
"Oh? Are you my new container?" His voice dripped with hunger and longing.
Gojo's eyes narrowed behind his blindfold, though his body language remained loose, almost lazy.
The demon chuckled. "You—are you an Onmyoji? Or perhaps… an exorcist?"
Whether onmyoji or exorcist, it mattered little. Either way, such a vessel would vastly increase his strength. His current body, was just husk of Tanaka senior body, which was already straining—far too weak to contain his essence.
It would collapse soon.
"Forget it," he muttered. "Once I take your body, I'll know."
Gojo tilted his head, lips curving into a bored smile. "Are all demons this blindly confident?"
The man snarled. "Blindly? You'll understand soon enough."
Demonic aura poured out of him in heavy waves, his smile feral.
Yet mid-laugh, his expression faltered. His eyes went wide, trembling in disbelief.
"How....HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!?"
Gojo's amusement deepened at the sight. "Oh? Frightened already? Didn't you just finish boasting a second ago? You told me I'd 'understand soon,' didn't you? And now you're panicking like a rat."
The truth was simple.
Gojo hadn't even tried to conceal his own cursed energy. It flowed freely around him, and the demon had only now realized the crushing weight of it. To him, it was suffocating—an ocean so vast he felt like a pebble sinking without a trace.
It was absurd.
For a demon of his level, this sensation was something he had only ever felt in the presence of Satan himself.
"Y-you… you monster," he whispered, sweat dripping down his transformed face. His earlier arrogance shattered like glass.
Gojo shrugged casually. "You realized late. If you'd noticed earlier and begged for mercy, maybe—just maybe—I'd have given you a cleaner death. Too late now."
The demon's panic skyrocketed. He cursed Gojo as an "old sixth"—the kind of person who tricked others by pretending to be weak until the last moment.
When Tanaka senior had summoned him, he had sensed nothing unusual. This man in front of him, seemed human—fragile, edible. But then he had let loose his cursed energy, and the demon realized the truth: he had just picked a fight with something he could never hope to defeat.
"Okay," Gojo said, brushing invisible dust off his uniform. "Your comedy routine was fun while it lasted, but I'm getting bored. I haven't even had lunch yet, so~~ let's wrap this up~."
The demon's eyes widened.
Run!
The instinct to flee screamed in his veins. But the moment he turned, Gojo's voice fell like judgment.
"No, you don't."
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
In an instant, the demon's limbs detonated. His arms and legs burst apart in bloody sprays, chunks of flesh and bones splattering across the pavement.
The creature howled in agony as its body collapsed into a twitching mess.
"Gaaaaahhh—!"
The wail echoed through the empty space.
Within two seconds, a heavy boot came down, pressing harshly against his jaw, forcing his face into the ground. Cracking the ground with its force.
"Demons sure scream loudly, don't they?"
Gojo bent down, tilting his head as if observing some rare insect. His expression had shifted into something unreadable, cold.
"Mmmphh—mm!" The demon tried to speak, as blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes darted desperately, begging.
Gojo chuckled humorlessly. "Begging for mercy? Hah. What do you take me for—merciful?" His tone dripped with disdain. "Just an insect like you, thinking you have the right to beg? Keep dreaming."
The demon's muffled pleas dissolved into nothing as the crushing weight of Gojo's cursed energy bore down as his boot press down his head, hardly against the ground.
Slowly crushing it.
The stench of blood thickening with each second, the night silent except for the sound of the demon's heavy, last breaths.
And Gojo, expression unreadable beneath his blindfold, simply pressed harder.
...
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