Itaki Prefecture, the site of a former multi-story parking lot. Night.
"Come on! Let's get tonight's intense battle started—the Club Tournament!" The bald host roared with fervor.
"Your live commentary will be provided by me, John Bobby!"
He was in high spirits, waving his hands wildly from the commentary booth, his voice deafening.
Through the speakers, his fanatical energy completely ignited the surrounding crowd, and the audience raised their hands in unison, cheering wildly.
Suddenly, the host's tone shifted as he loudly introduced the fighters:
"First, let me introduce the contestant for this match!"
"The Arrogant One! The Pure White Evil! The man who proclaims he will surely ascend to the Throne of God—Mahito!"
Mahito shook his head, feeling a heartfelt embarrassment at this introduction.
Although he did indeed claim he would ascend to the Throne of God, the feeling of saying it himself versus having someone else announce it was quite different.
He didn't feel much when he said it, but hearing someone else shout it made him incredibly self-conscious.
Jogo, who was accompanying Mahito, didn't feel any embarrassment at all.
On the contrary, he was incredibly excited.
"Pure White Evil... the one who shall ascend the Throne of God... Hmph, these Old Humans understand quite a bit."
"Mahito, our great undertaking begins here. I'm really looking forward to it."
Hanami, standing nearby, was also full of praise.
Mahito truly felt that the mental age of these Intelligent Cursed Spirits must be young—at most the level of a middle schooler like Megumi during his second year.
Otherwise, they wouldn't sincerely find the host's lines cool.
Yes, whether it was Jogo or Hanami, they were speaking from the heart; Mahito could feel it.
Speaking of which, he had never asked how old they were.
Logically, although they looked mature, they shouldn't be very old because they hadn't even heard of Gojo Satoru, making them 'country bumpkins' in name and reality.
But when Jogo fought Gojo Satoru, he clearly called Gojo a 'brat'.
Is their perception of age all mixed up?
While considering these trivial thoughts, Mahito waved his hand casually.
"Well, Jogo, Hanami, I'm going up."
Jogo immediately roared with excitement: "Mahito! Let the New Humans' great undertaking begin from this very moment!"
"Let these 'Old Human monkeys' witness the power of the New Humans!"
Hanami wasn't as boisterous but added a few steady words of encouragement.
"Yeah, I know, Jogo, Hanami," Mahito said indifferently.
"I'll use this match to experiment with my new body—this Half-Curse body."
Mahito slowly stepped out from the player's tunnel.
The host's voice remained high and loud as he waved his open hands, introducing the other contestant.
"And now, the opponent facing 'Pure White Evil' is—"
"The absolute powerhouse! The undefeated legend—Awasaka Jiro!!!"
The crowd in the stands let out a massive shout.
Compared to the unknown Mahito, Awasaka Jiro was the true master of this Underground Fighting Arena.
The audience roared with all their might, releasing their deep-seated desire for flesh-and-blood combat.
Awasaka Jiro was a sturdy middle-aged man, with a wisp of hair like smoke on his nearly bald head.
He had thick eyebrows, a goatee, and large round eyes.
He wore a white shirt and a haramaki, his muscles straining against the fabric so tightly it seemed they might burst through at any moment—literally exploding muscles.
He walked step by step into the arena from the tunnel, looked up, and stared closely at his opponent.
The Cursed Spirit with the ambition to ascend the Throne of God—Mahito.
Within the Curse User community, news of a Cursed Spirit appearing in a human shell had spread at some point.
Every Curse User who knew about this special Cursed Spirit was forced into a Binding Vow; even if their mouths were torn open, they couldn't reveal this news to Jujutsu Sorcerers.
This was because this Cursed Spirit possessed the power to overturn the Jujutsu world.
It wasn't just about the strength of his power, but that his ability was too hair-raising—'he can make people evolve.'
'Evolution'—what a desirable word.
'Evolution'—what a terrifying word.
A Curse User who undergoes evolution will experience immense growth.
Whether it's Cursed Energy circulation, recovery speed, storage capacity, output, efficiency, or the most important factor for a Jujutsu Sorcerer—perception of the core of Cursed Energy—each will grow tremendously.
Just as the word implies, they achieve evolution.
Because of this, countless Curse Users were searching for this special Cursed Spirit, hoping to receive a blessing.
A Cursed Spirit with intelligence, a manifestation of the Curse of human hatred and fear toward humans, a Cursed Spirit longing to ascend the Throne of God.
And, the King of Curses born for the first time in a thousand years—Mahito—was now right before Awasaka Jiro's eyes.
Honestly, it was disappointing.
Awasaka Jiro didn't see the domineering aura of a powerhouse in the person before him.
An experienced veteran can judge the strength of an enemy just from their stance.
Awasaka Jiro was such a veteran.
He had faced and killed many Jujutsu Sorcerers, so he could judge strength by intuition.
But even standing before this legendary King of Curses, he didn't feel any overwhelming power.
This was a young man with long white hair draped over his shoulders, messy as if he never cared for it.
His eyes were lazily squinted, looking like a college student who hadn't woken up yet.
That handsome face also carried a hint of impatience, like a poor soul forced to crawl out of bed in the middle of the night to study.
He was dressed like a college student going out—a white shirt, black trousers, and sneakers.
Awasaka Jiro carefully observed Mahito's eyes.
They were indeed heterochromatic as rumored, but nowadays colored contacts were common, so such eyes weren't a particularly special phenomenon.
Awasaka Jiro couldn't imagine he was that famous King of Curses.
Of course, a lustful noblewoman might feel her heart flutter at that face.
But Awasaka Jiro felt nothing; he only felt disappointment.
Disappointment that this famous Lord of Curses before him was so unremarkable, lacking any 'domineering aura' of a powerhouse.
So, Awasaka Jiro naturally asked: "Are you Mahito?"
"Hmm? You know me?" Mahito asked curiously.
"News about you is flying all over the Curse User circles, though because of the Binding Vow, it hasn't reached the Jujutsu Sorcerer groups yet."
"But that's just a matter of time," Awasaka Jiro said flatly.
"It's said you have the ability to make humans evolve, turning ordinary people into Sorcerers, and if they are already Sorcerers, the evolution is even more powerful."
"I originally had expectations for you, but the moment I saw you, my expectations were completely dashed."
"You don't look powerful at all like the rumors say."
Faced with this thinly veiled mockery, Mahito didn't show any anger but responded calmly.
"I wasn't heading towards becoming the strongest in the first place."
He said, "I am merely seeking the path of 'evolution,' and on this path, some Curse Users came to beg me."
"As guinea pigs for the road ahead, I am willing to grant them some abilities. It's a mutual exchange."
"...You treat the people seeking evolution from you as guinea pigs?" Awasaka Jiro's eyes widened suddenly.
Mahito stuck out his tongue like a child and apologized bluntly.
"Sorry, I meant... fellow travelers."
Awasaka Jiro was furious: "A mere Cursed Spirit—!"
Mahito suddenly raised a finger and shook it dismissively.
"No, not a Cursed Spirit, but a Half-Curse."
"Haven't you noticed? The audience watching our fight, including those ordinary people... all of them can see me."
Awasaka Jiro was suddenly stunned.
He looked around the spectator stands without showing it.
Before this, he had heard that a Cursed Spirit was going to appear and fight him, and he thought it was some kind of bad joke.
To be honest, the main consumer group of this underground arena was still ordinary people.
Although Curse Users looking to make extra money could also take the stage, the owner here ruled that difficult-to-understand Cursed Techniques couldn't be used.
After all, as an underground arena, no matter how special it was, if the main consumers weren't satisfied, it couldn't stay in business.
So the basic rule was that the fight must be 'understandable' and, more importantly, 'visible' to the audience.
Cursed Spirits are literally products of Cursed Energy aggregation; they are Curses, and ordinary people cannot see Curses with the naked eye.
So when Awasaka Jiro learned his opponent was a Cursed Spirit, he thought he was going to perform a solo dance in front of those ordinary spectators.
He was naturally dissatisfied, but two reasons made him take the stage.
First, of course, was the prize money.
As long as he won, he would get triple the prize money, and even if he lost, he could still make money normally. He had no complaints about that.
Second, he heard the opponent's name was Mahito and wanted to meet him.
And now, at least he didn't have to worry about this being a match where he looked like a lunatic punching the air in the eyes of ordinary people—because everyone could clearly see the Lord of Curses before them!
"What did you do?" Awasaka Jiro didn't notice his own voice was trembling slightly.
Cursed Spirits can be seen as entities formed by the accumulation and precipitation of Cursed Energy leaked by humans themselves.
Ordinary people without the talent of a Jujutsu Sorcerer cannot possibly see them.
Yet this invisible thing was manifesting as a visible existence.
Awasaka Jiro's common sense was being shattered!
Mahito suddenly opened his lazy eyes, his golden pupil and blue pupil simultaneously emitting a dazzling light.
He spread his hands outward, like a God embracing the world.
Even though he was just wearing a simple white shirt, at this moment, Awasaka Jiro truly saw the birth of some kind of deity.
Until this moment, Awasaka Jiro finally felt Mahito's 'domineering aura.'
"I have become a complete version of myself," he said.
"Haven't you realized yet? I have already—descended here."
Descended here.
Only a God is worthy of 'descending.'
Awasaka Jiro finally knew why he couldn't feel any domineering aura when he first saw Mahito.
It was because they were on different dimensions.
It was like a human walking on an asphalt road; even if an ant kept shouting by the human's shoe, the human wouldn't give the ant a single glance.
An ant... of course, doesn't count as an enemy.
Now Awasaka Jiro was the ant. Mahito was the human.
Awasaka Jiro felt his body and mind trembling.
He almost wanted to run away the next instant, but he didn't.
He suddenly wanted to fight this human.
Fear and excitement, two completely different emotions, were entwined in his heart.
At this moment, he recalled the mission to assassinate Gojo Satoru he had received years ago.
It had been too long since he had this feeling of crisis, as if he would die the next second.
He felt a sense of nostalgia mixed with a desire for destruction.
If it were Gojo Satoru, he would have run away by now, because Gojo Satoru was the kind of person where even if all intelligence was laid out before your eyes, you would still have no way to deal with him.
But Mahito, this King of Curses, was different.
His information was naturally circulating among the Curse User groups.
He possessed the ability to modify human Souls.
This ability sounded terrifying at first, but in fact, he could only change them by touching them with both hands.
As long as one dodged his hands, there was a way to defeat him.
Besides, this was a fighting arena, not a life-and-death battle; he wouldn't go so far as to kill.
No, perhaps in his eyes, how not to kill me is what he's considering.
Because, I am an ant!
Awasaka Jiro was so excited he could hardly breathe.
Mahito seemed to notice Awasaka Jiro's fanaticism.
He split his mouth open, the corners curving upward greatly like a crescent moon in the night, revealing horror and mystery.
He asked softly, "Mr. Awasaka, do you want to try?"
Awasaka Jiro subconsciously asked back, "Try what?"
"Challenging God."
Mahito lowered his arms that were embracing the world and reached out with one hand, his fingers curling casually as if he were holding something.
He smiled and said, "Since you're hesitating, let's make a bet."
"If you can injure me, I'll grant you a perfectly side-effect-free evolution."
"Even if you fail, I guarantee that as long as you have one breath left, I will grant you Rebirth."
Now that things had reached this point, how could Awasaka Jiro possibly refuse?
How could there be any room left for refusal?
How could he bear this?
He couldn't bear it, not at all; no matter what, he couldn't hold back!
A massive frenzy instantly consumed Awasaka Jiro's brain, and his rationality completely collapsed in that moment.
Challenge a god? No.
—I! WILL! SLAY! GOD!
Awasaka Jiro let out a roar.
He felt that his life—forced by Gojo Satoru to the point where he didn't dare kill anyone and could only vent his frustrations in this Underground Fighting Arena—was now completely without regrets.
He even felt he should thank Gojo Satoru; if not for him, he would never have set foot in this arena, and without being here, how could he have had the chance to challenge a god?
A mere Cursed Spirit? No, this is a god!
Is challenging a god overestimating oneself? No! It is an honor.
An honor belonging solely to Awasaka Jiro!
And now, Awasaka Jiro was going to sacrifice himself for that honor!
"Awasaka Jiro!" he roared, his muscles twisting and bulging like a tsunami crashing against rocks. "Here I come—!"
So easy to fool, humans, Mahito thought.
Mm, the Cursed Technique to modify the Soul through the eyes to induce frenzy was a success.
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