Chapter 201 - Stirring Chaos In Jujustu Kaisen World Part 7

Under the pale glow of the moon, a lone figure stood motionless atop a quiet rooftop. His silhouette—draped in the robes of a Buddhist priest—seemed serene at first glance, but the long, grotesque stitch running across his forehead betrayed the mockery of the vessel he inhabited.

Kenjaku, the ancient sorcerer who wore bodies like masks, stared up at the sky with a furrowed brow.

"…He's late."

The words slipped from his lips like a whisper, yet each syllable carried weight. Jogo might be prideful and short-tempered, but he was obedient when it came to the plan. Punctual. Predictable.

Which made his silence troubling.

Kenjaku's senses extended outward, brushing against the vast web of lesser Cursed Spirits he used to monitor Tokyo's shifting tides. Then, he felt it—two distinct surges of Cursed Energy clashing somewhere beyond his immediate reach.

One was unmistakably Jogo.

The other…

Kenjaku's expression darkened.

The unfamiliar aura is powerful—it was on the level of Special Grade. Yet, it wasn't the strength that concerned him. But this vague ancient feeling, as if dredged from a time long forgotten by both man and curse. Its presence was wrong, unbalanced—like something foreign to this world entirely.

And it was suppressing Jogo.

Utterly.

Then came the memory—a spike of Negative Energy that had briefly shaken the city just hours earlier. At the time, he had dismissed it as a spontaneous curse riot or birth of a new Special Grade Curse.

Now, he is certain. It's the birth of a New Special Grade Curse.

Another player had stepped onto the board.

And this one, unlike the others, was not part of his game.

Kenjaku made a swift decision.

"Hanami," he spoke aloud, calling upon the most mobile of his elite Special Grade Curses. Among his subordinates, Hanami's affinity for nature and rapid traversal made him ideal for quick deployments and extractions. If Jogo was still alive, they could retrieve him.

Moments later, with Hanami and a swarm of lesser Cursed Spirits at his back, Kenjaku arrived at the scene.

Jogo lay crumpled in a shallow pool of his own blood, his scorched body trembling, cursed energy flickering like a dying ember. His limbs were torn and cut, face bruised beyond recognition, the heat of his signature flames at the verge of being extinguished. If not for the resilience of his cursed form, he would've been dead several times over.

Kenjaku approached slowly, scanning the area.

The ground was largely untouched. No signs of wild destruction. No deep craters. No elemental residue or scorched buildings.

That was… unusual.

Jogo was nothing if not violent, and every battle he partook in left the environment devastated. For there to be so little damage could only mean one thing.

The fight had taken place inside a Domain.

And Jogo had lost. Which is surprising.

Kenjaku's eyes narrowed.

More disturbingly, Jogo had been left alive.

That wasn't mercy. It's a message. As if an invitation to bait him out knowing he can't abandon Jogo yet for his value.

Someone had deliberately spared him. Regardless of the intention behind this gesture of mercy. He felt uneasy.

And that terrified Kenjaku more than anything else—an unknown element disrupting the board he had so carefully arranged.

He turned to Hanami and ordered him to grab Jogo and retreat immediately. But before they could move, a presence fell upon them like a noose tightening around the throat—silent, suffocating, and cold.

"Oya, oya... What's the rush to leave, dear guests? Why not sit down and have a little chat first?"

Kenjaku's body twitches involuntarily. His neck creaked as he turned it, searching for the voice's source—but the space around him remained unchanged.

Then, he noticed the oddity of the shadows around the dark alley.

Eyes.

Dozens. No—hundreds of eyes emerged from the shadowed walls, ceiling, ground. Vertical, slitted pupils, narrow and unblinking, gleamed in the dark like dying stars. Each eyes observe, they scrutinized, like a butcher inspecting meat before the cut.

The eyes began to move. Slowly. Rhythmically. Each pair shifts between him, Hanami, Jogo, and the other curses. Then, beneath one particular pair, a thin slit widened into a crooked smile—a grin full of immaculate teeth and two pair of fangs, too many, too white, stretching just a bit too far.

The smile didn't reach any face. It floated beneath the eyes like a carving in reality itself.

Kenjaku's breath hitched, caught off guard by the sudden and creepy display that is not quite horror but incredibly unsettling even for someone like him. But the shock only lasted for a moment before he quickly regain his composure.

He straightened himself with deliberate calm and forced a warm, measured smile, masking the instinctual unease crawling up his spine like a colony of ants.

"Of course, of course. I'm quite intrigued by you as well. Anyone capable of eliminating a Special Grade Curse is certainly... fascinating."

His eyes, typically closed in faux serenity, opened into narrow slits, cold and calculating, scanning the entity before him.

"I do hope you'll introduce yourself," he added, voice steady—but deep within, he was bracing himself. Praying it wouldn't actually answer.

From what he could gather, this thing was no curse. There wasn't a shred of negative energy in the air—nothing. It was empty, like a void where something should be.

That fact alone unsettled him more than anything.

Every cursed spirit radiated negative energy. Even the weakest.

Only sorcerers and curse users could suppress it so completely. But this thing… it didn't feel like a sorcerer either. It felt almost like something so alien that didn't belong in this world.

Through out his long life, he had dealt with monsters, with curses that claimed to be gods or deities, with the unnatural—but this felt wrong in a way that made his instincts rebel.

Could it be a new Special Grade? Or worse... an anomalous Sorcerer like that kid from the Gojo Clan?

Before he could finish the thought, the being stepped forward from the shadows.

And it was...

A cat.

A small, unassuming black cat—sleek, silent, and perfectly groomed for some reason. But that was only the surface.

Its body was feline, but its presence was not. It walked with the grace of a predator that pretended to be prey, its gaze intelligent and ancient. Its eyes, twin slits of molten gold, bore into Kenjaku with such chilling intensity that he felt seen—not as a sorcerer, not as a vessel, but the true form under the meat wrapped in borrowed skin.

Worse still was the expression on its face.

Humans. Uncannily human.

The curl of its lips formed a knowing smirk, the kind you'd see from someone who already knew the outcome of the game. Its eyes glimmered without a shred of malice, as if it didn't even consider him to be at the same level. But with amusement, the kind that a human would show while observing insect crawling in circles.

There was no cursed energy. No fluctuation. No aura of power to sense—nothing. If Kenjaku hadn't witnessed the unnatural spectacle just moments earlier, he would have assumed this creature was nothing more than an ordinary cat that had wandered into the alley by mistake.

And that—that absence of any presence, any reason—was what made Kenjaku feel cold.

The cat stepped forward with unhurried steps, each movement unnervingly smooth. It stopped a short distance away and sat down, tail curling neatly around its paws, posture relaxed… almost mockingly so.

"Introducing myself? Sure." The cat's voice was soft, casual—but the grin that spread across its face widened far too much, stretching into something grotesquely unnatural. "But I doubt you'd believe me. After all, would you believe a black cat that just happened to talk, proclaiming itself to be an almighty and omnipotent god?"

It gave a theatrical sigh and lifted one paw dismissively, as if even it couldn't take itself seriously.

Kenjaku's eyes narrowed, his thoughts racing. Absurd. Preposterous. The claim was ridiculous—even to him. But before he could scoff or respond, his body tensed—violently.

The vein on his temple bulged as his instincts screamed a warning.

A blur of black flashed past his face—just a hair's breadth away. The wind pressure alone cut across his cheek like a razor. Behind him, a strangled, guttural grunt of pain burst from Hanami.

Kenjaku spun instinctively, his heart lurching as panic surged.

Had the creature discovered his ploy to buy time? Was this retaliation? Yes, this should be a retaliation as it attacked the moment Hanami had finished his preparation to escape.

But then, just as quickly the thought dissolved, something else seized his attention.

The attack. The force behind it. The power.

It wasn't cursed energy. It was an energy that he had never felt before. In that single flash of movement, Kenjaku caught a glimpse of the terrifying power that this unassuming creature possessed.

And it was terrifying.

Sukuna, the strongest Curse in history—the King of Curses—was nothing in comparison. Not a rival. Not a peer.

The difference was like that between a towering mountain and a bottomless sea. One immense, solid, immovable. The other infinite, unknowable, and capable of swallowing everything in it's path.

Both were powerful.

But only one had no end.

Kenjaku felt it—not with his senses, but in the marrow of his bones. That ancient, primal terror that this flesh and blood puppet of his unconsciously felt.

He had tried to understand it. Measure it. But now he realized. This being was not meant to be understood.

Only now he understood, this being had no intention to let him go and had been simply toying at him from the start.

So he asked.

"What do you want?" Kenjaku asked, his voice low, his expression shadowed.

Though his tone carried the weight of reluctant surrender, he still had one final card to play:

The Prison Realm.

Originally prepared for the capture of Satoru Gojo, Kenjaku wouldn't hesitate to use it now if the situation demanded it.

The cat tilted its head, seemingly amused by the tension in the air.

"What's with the gloomy face? I was thinking we could form a partnership. After all, our goals align—at least to a certain degree."

Kenjaku's expression remained unreadable, tense and wary. He said nothing.

The cat continued.

"You wish to bring back the King of Curses, Sukuna, for your own reasons. So do my people."

That statement caught Kenjaku off guard. His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"For what purpose?" he asked.

The cat's grin widened, its tone casual, almost playful. "Would you believe me if I said—for fun?"

Seeing the disbelief flicker across Kenjaku's face, the cat elaborated.

"My people simply want to test themselves against Sukuna. Nothing more. We have no intention of interfering with your plans or the Jujutsu world."

Kenjaku remained cautious. Everything about this offer reeked of a trap. Yet the cat's relaxed, almost dismissive attitude told a different story.

The strong have no need for trickery—not when facing the weak.

After witnessing the sheer, overwhelming power this being possessed, Kenjaku knew it could annihilate him and every Curse present with the same ease as swatting flies. There was no reason for it to lie, nor to bargain.

And that made the offer genuine.

Kenjaku nodded slowly and replied reluctantly.

"…Very well."

—————

(AN: It's late but I owe yall two more chaps including the weekly release from last week. Including this week, it's 3 more.

For those who say my updates lately look like AI generated. I do use Chat GPT. But i didn't use it to generate the story otherwise I'll be updating daily instead of struggling to meet the deadline. I usually Chat GPT to 'refine' what I already wrote myself. Mostly the grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, improving readability and flow of the writing and most importantly, fact checking.

Like, fact checking has never been easier with AI. I just dump my entire chapter and ask the AI to fact check everything in one go instead of having to sift through the wiki for each fact only to later realize I had wasted hours of work for accidentally using Fanon wiki instead of the actual anime title wiki.

Also, the Sirin +18 will have a part 2. The earlier one is mainly to explore her feelings thus a 'dream'. Part 2 will be the 'real' one.

Just a warning in advance, the +18 ain't gonna be vanilla cuz Sirin would basically force herself on her daddy dearest, a reverse grape kinda situation? Then again, is it considered 'grape' when both sides consented(enjoy) it?)

If you enjoy my fic and wanted me to support my work and effort, feel free to support me on Patreon.

patreon.com/DaoistKittyKat