Chapter 263 Cursed Gambit

With a calculating gaze, Ryan observed his newly acquired subordinate, the cursed spirit Jogo. He pondered momentarily, strategizing how to best utilize this unexpected ally.

How can I make him more useful? Ryan mused, an idea forming in his mind. Why not let him speak for himself?

With that thought, Ryan addressed Jogo directly, his tone calm but authoritative.

"Tell me," he began, "what can you do right now?"

Jogo blinked, his molten, magma-like eyes narrowing slightly. Indignation flickered briefly across his expression before he masked it with a facade of obligation. Straightening his posture, he tried to exude an air of pride.

"What can I do?" he scoffed, his tone sharp but restrained. "I am no mere errand boy. But if you insist, I do have a way to make things easier."

He paused as though weighing whether or not to divulge his idea. Finally, with a begrudging air, he continued. "There are others like me—cursed spirits of significant power, unregistered Special Grades. If you want their help, I can find them. Whether they follow you, however, is your problem, not mine."

Ryan's eyes gleamed at the suggestion, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He nodded approvingly. "Not bad," he remarked, his tone genuinely praising. "That's an excellent idea."

The plan was efficient. Rather than wasting time scouring the city for cursed spirits or jujutsu sorcerers, Ryan could let Jogo draw out potential allies. This would save him considerable effort.

"Perfect," Ryan muttered, visibly pleased.

Jogo, noticing Ryan's approval, scoffed lightly but couldn't entirely conceal the flicker of satisfaction in his molten features.

"Of course, it's a good idea. You think I'd waste your time with something trivial?" he said, crossing his arms and tilting his head, the heat radiating from his body intensifying slightly.

"I'll get started," Jogo added. "Just don't blame me if some of them turn out to be... uncooperative."

Without waiting for further instructions, Jogo began using his unique methods to summon his companions. It wasn't long before he sensed a familiar presence.

Jogo turned back to Ryan, his tone more matter-of-fact than excited. "I've called one of them. His name is Mahito."

This cursed spirit was no ordinary entity. It was a Special Grade curse, with intelligence rivaling that of humans. On the surface, it carried a mischievous, almost boyish charm, a demeanor that could easily disarm the unsuspecting. But beneath that veneer lurked a creature of unimaginable horror.

Its abilities were nightmarish. No physical injury could touch its soul, making it nigh invulnerable. Even more terrifying was its power to manipulate the very essence of life—the soul. With a mere touch, it could twist a human soul into grotesque, monstrous shapes or even implant multiple souls into a single body, creating unspeakable abominations. For humanity, Mahito was the embodiment of chaos and cruelty, a cruel mockery of their fragile existence.

When Jogo summoned Mahito, the so-called "Patchface," the spirit arrived with an air of irreverence, stepping onto the empty rooftop with an exaggerated stretch. His mismatched, patchwork grin widened as he took in the surroundings.

"Hmm, a rooftop meeting, huh?" Mahito mused aloud, his tone laced with mock amusement. "Feels a bit dramatic. Did you pick this spot just to look cool, Jogo?"

His eyes scanned the space, his amusement quickly souring. He frowned, tilting his head in feigned confusion.

"Wait, what is this? Didn't you say there was some deliciously chaotic business here? A little fun to spice up the evening?" His grin returned, but now it carried an edge of irritation. "Don't tell me you scared them all away with that angry molten face of yours."

Jogo stood firm, silent, narrowing his eyes in response. Mahito's teasing tone turned sharper, more cutting. "I told you we should hang out together when we kill humans, Jogo! And you just let them go? Honestly, what's the point of you if you can't even manage that?"

Mahito's scorn hung heavily in the air, but Jogo's response was far from submissive. Instead, a cold, calculating smile slowly spread across the molten spirit's face.

"Careful, Mahito," Jogo warned, his tone low and menacing. "You forget who you're talking to."

Before Mahito could retort, the ground beneath him exploded. Swarms of flame-like bugs surged from the earth, engulfing him in a fiery onslaught. The rooftop was bathed in light as the inferno tore through Mahito's form, riddling his body with holes in an instant.

For a moment, it seemed the attack had worked. Mahito's body lay in tatters, his once-smirking face frozen in apparent agony. But then, as though mocking the entire ordeal, his form began to shift.

The holes in his body closed seamlessly, his patchwork face twisting into a grin that somehow grew even wider. A low chuckle escaped him, quickly escalating into full-blown laughter, the sound echoing unnervingly across the rooftop.

"Ah, Jogo," Mahito said, his tone dripping with amusement. "I knew I liked you for a reason. That little tantrum of yours was almost convincing!"

He dusted himself off theatrically as if brushing away dirt rather than recovering from a fiery assault. His grin was sharp, his gaze gleaming with mischief.

"But next time," Mahito continued, his voice adopting a mock serious note, "maybe give me a heads-up before you try something that almost works. Wouldn't want you to feel bad when I don't stay down."

His voice dropped, turning colder, and his smile stretched into a razor-thin line. "Besides, you wouldn't want to see what I can do when I get serious."

In an instant, Mahito's confident demeanor faltered. He staggered, his eyes widening in shock, his face twisting into a mask of exaggerated betrayal. A flicker of malice lingered beneath his faux hurt as he stared at Jogo, trying to process the sudden shift.

"Jogo... what's gotten into you?" Mahito demanded, his voice trembling with almost childlike vulnerability. "You're supposed to be my friend. So why? Why attack me like this?"

As he spoke, his body twisted and reformed. The holes from Jogo's fiery onslaught vanished as if they'd never existed. His patchwork face returned to its usual form, unmarred and whole. What should have been a devastating attack now seemed almost laughable, leaving Mahito standing tall, his shock melting into a dark, twisted grin.

"Pity," Mahito sneered, his voice sharp with contempt. "Your little ambush had some flair, but it failed all the same. Surely, you knew better."

Jogo remained silent, his molten gaze fixed on Mahito. It was unreadable yet unyielding. The tension between them was palpable, the rooftop heavy with the unspoken challenge of two beings who thrived on destruction.

Mahito's grin widened as he tilted his head, mockingly studying his counterpart. "Didn't you know?" he continued, his tone dripping with derision. "No matter how much damage you do to my body, it's meaningless. My soul is untouchable. And as long as my soul remains intact, I'll return to this form, again and again."

He took a step closer, his patchwork smile sharpening into something far more sinister. "Want to truly harm me? You'll have to target my soul, Jogo. Otherwise, all this fire and fury..." He lazily gestured to the scorched rooftop around them. "...is just you throwing a tantrum."

Mahito paused, letting his words hang in the air for dramatic effect. Then his smirk turned razor-sharp. "But since you've shown me no mercy..." His voice dropped, low and venomous, the playful edge gone. "...don't expect any from me."

With that, Mahito extended his hand, fingers crackling with a disturbing energy. The air around him seemed to distort, heavy with the unnatural force of his cursed technique. His gaze locked onto Jogo with a mix of amusement and malevolence.

"I wonder..." Mahito mused, his voice soft and contemplative, though his grin remained cruel. "What would your soul look like if I twisted it? Let's find out."

Without another word, Mahito launched himself at Jogo, his intent vicious and unrelenting. The air crackled with his cursed energy, his hand outstretched to seize Jogo's soul. But as he closed the distance, the world itself seemed to ripple and twist.

In an instant, Mahito's surroundings blurred, and everything before him dissolved into nothingness. The rooftop, the city skyline, even Jogo—everything vanished as if it had never existed.

The air thickened and became suffocating, pressing against Mahito's body with an almost tangible weight. Daylight faded into an abyssal blackness, a void so complete that it consumed even the faintest hint of light. The oppressive darkness was disorienting, leaving him adrift in an endless expanse where even his form felt insubstantial.

"What... where am I?" Mahito murmured, his voice uncharacteristically shaky.

He reached out, but his hand met nothing. No solid ground beneath his feet, no resistance in the air. There was only the void. His usual smug confidence faltered as the silence grew deafening, pressing in on him as if he universe itself had turned against him.

Mahito opened his mouth to speak again, but no sound emerged. It was as though the void had swallowed his voice, rendering him mute and powerless.

Outside the oppressive darkness, Jogo stood frozen, his molten gaze wide with shock. Mahito remained still, his body rigid, movements jerky and unnatural, like a marionette with its strings cut. His once-animated features were now blank, lifeless, stripped of any intention or will.

"What's happening?" Jogo muttered, his voice thick with confusion and unease.

Then, breaking the eerie silence, a calm, measured voice spoke.

"I did it."

Jogo spun around, startled, his molten eyes locking onto the figure standing just behind him.

Ryan.

The human's demeanor was composed, almost serene, as he surveyed the chaos with quiet satisfaction. His sharp eyes flicked over to Mahito's frozen form before returning to Jogo.

"Ryan!" Jogo exclaimed, bowing deeply in respect.

Ryan waved him off dismissively, his tone cool and collected. "No need for all that," he said, his gaze drifting back to Mahito, who was now lost in the enveloping darkness. "Let's just say I'm handling things in my way."

"It has nothing to do with you. This is something I want to try for myself." Ryan's voice was firm as he addressed Jogo, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

"This Mahito is no better than a fool. He openly revealed his weakness." Ryan paused for a moment, his lips curling into a slight smirk. "If I don't exploit that, it would be a waste of his... generosity."

Mahito had been too consumed by his battle lust, boasting endlessly about his invulnerability. In his hubris, he'd carelessly exposed his weakness: while his body could withstand any damage, an attack on his soul was the only true way to hurt him.

Ryan absorbed the information, a spark of inspiration lighting in his eyes.

Ryan tilted his head slightly, a calm smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Isn't the Mangekyou Sharingan capable of casting that genjutsu?" he mused quietly. "I haven't used that ability in quite some time… Perhaps it's overdue."

Without another word, his eyes snapped open, revealing the mesmerizing, concentric patterns of the Mangekyou Sharingan. The air around them thickened as he focused, unleashing the devastating power of Tsukuyomi.

Reality itself seemed to shudder.

In the span of a single breath, the illusion engulfed them. Mahito and Jogo were pulled into a twisted world where time stretched infinitely—three days of unrelenting torment compressed into what felt like a single heartbeat in the real world.

Mahito froze, his body rigid and lifeless, his mind entirely at Ryan's mercy. Trapped in a nightmare of Ryan's design, he was unable to move or resist, consumed by an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Jogo's molten gaze flickered between fear and awe. The sheer presence of Ryan's power rendered him speechless, but his admiration could not be hidden.

"His mastery... It's as if his power is a domain expansion in itself—the most formidable force in the world!" Jogo murmured in awe, his voice filled with reverence.

With a casual flick of his hand, a massive fissure tore open the ground, from which the towering, imposing form of the King of Hell emerged. The grotesque, spectral figure loomed above them, its gaping mouth splitting open to reveal a chasm teeming with otherworldly power.

Ryan's voice was calm, almost detached. "Your essence... your very existence will serve as judgment."

With a simple, commanding gesture, Ryan directed the King of Hell to seize Mahito. The spectral hands reached out with unnatural speed and precision, clamping around Mahito's frozen form. The monstrous maw of the King of Hell widened further, and with an agonizing tug, Mahito's spirit—his very core—was ripped from his body.

The King of Hell devoured it without hesitation, the sound of its swallowing echoing like a thunderous crash. Mahito's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, a hollow shell, a mere husk of the being it once was.

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Bonus scene (Omake): 

Jogo turned back to Ryan, his tone more matter-of-fact than excited. "I will call one of them. His name is Mahito."

He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Mahito's number, but after several rings, the call went to voicemail. Jogo grumbled and hung up, then tried again. Still nothing. He frowned, glaring at the screen.

Ryan, watching in quiet amusement, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "He's not picking up?"

Jogo's expression soured. "Nope. This happens sometimes. Mahito's probably off doing something weird, as usual. He tends to vanish when he's having fun."

Ryan's lips twitched into a small smile. "Maybe he's busy updating his social media? Could be he's too caught up in his online life to care about your calls."

Jogo let out a short, annoyed laugh. "Could be. The last time I tried calling him, he was sending memes to some cursed spirits. Seriously, who has time for that during a battle?"

"Maybe he doesn't know you need him for this one," Ryan suggested, his voice casual but edged with a bit of teasing.

Jogo huffed, pocketing his phone with a sigh. "I'll give it a few more tries. He can't ignore me forever."

Just then, his phone buzzed. Jogo quickly pulled it out, hopeful, only to see a text from Mahito: "Yo, Jogo. I'm a bit tied up at the moment—don't take it personally, but I'm not answering. Call me later, yeah?"

Jogo blinked. "He... he texted me to say he's not picking up."

Ryan chuckled. "I guess that's a hard pass from Mahito. You might want to consider changing your approach."

Jogo groaned, throwing his phone back in his pocket. "Yeah, I'll get right on that. At least I know he's alive, for now."

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