Chapter 4: The Mangekyō Sharingan

Without paying any attention to the old man nearby, Mirai casually bent down and picked up the severed head that had rolled across the ground.

After all, this was his dear father. How could he be left to rest in the ruins?

"Boom!"

A deafening explosion split the air, crashing down from above!

Zen'in Naobito, who had been on high alert, didn't hesitate for even a split second. The moment he saw the attack, he immediately activated his curse technique and retreated over a hundred meters.

The ground shook violently again as a loud impact followed.

Looking at what remained of Zen'in Fan's body, which had now been reduced to a bloody mist by the terrifying curse spirit's attack, Naobito, who had assumed Mirai was going to target him next, felt a bit awkward. He hadn't even considered retrieving his brother's body.

Mirai, however, seemed satisfied as he gazed at the blood mist that filled the air.

Now his father wouldn't have to lie in this desolate place anymore.

"Old man, inform the Zen'in family's higher-ups that there will be a family meeting tomorrow morning. I have something to announce."

Holding Zen'in Fan's head in one hand, Mirai turned and called out to Naobito, who was watching from a distance.

Without waiting for a reply, he stepped over the cracked ground and headed back toward his small residence.

The series of earth-shattering explosions, courtesy of the boy's unique "wake-up call," had already roused everyone within the estate from their slumber.

The powerless servants, the wives and children of the family's sorcerers, had fled their narrow rooms as the ground shook, seeking safety in the open spaces.

Meanwhile, the two elite combat units of the Zen'in family had stationed themselves on the outskirts of the battlefield, on high alert.

Had the leaders of these squads not received a signal from Naobito himself, they would have charged in long ago.

The "Hei" unit, known as the strongest sorcerer group within the Zen'in family, consisted of elite members, with even the weakest among them being semi-grade 1 sorcerers. However, their numbers were few.

Then there was the "Kukuruyu" unit, an armed force composed of family members who, due to their low curse energy, had been unable to awaken any techniques.

Though lacking techniques, the members of Kukuruyu were still far from weak. Through relentless physical training and mastery of various cursed tools, this non-sorcerer unit held its own in battle.

The scars crisscrossing Mirai's chest were proof of his rigorous training, having been thrown into Kukuruyu when he was just five years old, and enduring it ever since.

"Move."

Mirai's voice was cold as he addressed the two units blocking his path.

The leader of Hei glanced at Naobito, who was walking toward them from behind, before swiftly ordering his troops to withdraw without hesitation.

Zen'in Shinrou, the captain of the Kukuruyu unit, also noticed Naobito's signal but hesitated for two full seconds before moving.

After all, the head of their unit, Zen'in Fan, was still dangling from Mirai's hand.

"Ah!!!"

Suddenly, a scream rang out. The retreating soldiers froze in place, cold sweat dripping from their foreheads.

In the blink of an eye, Zen'in Shinrou—who had been blocking Mirai's path—had half of his body, an arm and a leg, swallowed by a strange tear in space.

Blood sprayed across the ground, intestines and other unidentified organs still writhing on the earth.

With half of his body gone, Zen'in Shinrou lay on the ground, twitching, his cries of pain growing fainter by the second.

All it took was a single glance from the boy, and a captain-level figure had been instantly reduced to this state.

Without reverse curse techniques to heal him, those last few weak cries would soon be his final words.

Mirai, however, paid no attention. He ignored the horrified onlookers, stepping through the pool of blood as he disappeared into the darkness.

...

As he passed through the corridor and reached the clearing in front of his small house, Mirai's steps faltered for a moment.

Standing there was a woman, bowing respectfully, with two little girls clinging to her legs, their faces pale with fear.

The three were in their nightclothes, which were disheveled, their hair a tangled mess.

Mirai glanced at the twin girls, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, before he entered his house, still carrying their father's severed head.

Despite having no blood relation, these twins were the only ones aside from his mother who had ever shown him kindness—or a smile.

"D-Demon…"

The younger twin, Zen'in Mai, stammered, trembling as she muttered under her breath. She lost her grip on her mother's robe and fell to the ground, terror written all over her face.

Her older sister, Zen'in Maki, though still standing, was trembling, her teeth chattering loudly. For a girl of only five, she was quite brave.

"Mai, be quiet!"

The woman, who had only just straightened up after Mirai entered his room, quickly pulled her daughter up, scolding her with a stern expression. "How dare you call him a demon! That is your elder brother!"

"From now on, when you see your brother Mirai, you must show him the same respect you show the head of the family! Do you understand?!"

It wasn't wrong to call him their brother. Zen'in Mirai was indeed their half-brother, born of the same father.

The woman scolding the little girls was the wife Zen'in Fan had married when Mirai was five years old.

That same year, in late autumn, was when Zen'in Fan had pushed Mirai's mother into the abyss.

After five years in this household, the woman had long learned how to survive in such a corrupt family.

She and the twins had witnessed most of the battle from afar, and she was well aware that the patricidal Mirai would not face rejection from the family. On the contrary, he was likely on the verge of a meteoric rise.

...

"How ironic. You truly did commit more sins than I thought, you beast."

Back in his room, Mirai lifted Zen'in Fan's head, murmuring softly to himself.

He had heard every word of the woman's scolding from outside.

How utterly ironic!

They had all seen him carrying the severed head, and yet their reactions were all different—none of them filled with hatred...

Not a single trace of anger toward him, the one who had killed their husband and father!

Though the woman had maintained a respectful demeanor, with her head bowed, Mirai had clearly caught the brief flicker of hatred and relief in her eyes as she glanced at the severed head in his hand.

It wasn't just him—the "dutiful son"—who felt this way. Even his father's wife of five years and the twin sisters, Zen'in Fan's own daughters, showed no concern for the death of that wretched man.

But that wasn't surprising.

Those twin girls, despite being only four or five years old, had long been subjected to the same menial tasks as the servants.

Daily insults, unprovoked beatings—it was all part of their routine.

This mistreatment had started when they were just four years old, even earlier than Mirai.

As daughters, and twins at that—considered inauspicious in the jujutsu world—they had been abandoned by Zen'in Fan even sooner than Mirai and his mother.

Despite this abandonment, the twins still had to endure the constant humiliation of being called "worthless" by that beast.

Mirai shook the thoughts from his mind and walked over to a corner of his room, placing Zen'in Fan's head in front of the memorial tablet.

For the first time tonight, the coldness faded from Mirai's face, replaced by a gentle expression as he looked at the tablet.

It bore the name of his mother, Tsukiyomi, though there was no surname carved into it.

Because his mother had despised the Zen'in name.

She never said it out loud, but Mirai had understood.

He didn't say a word, wanting to reach out and touch the tablet, but seeing the blood on his hands, he hesitated and drew back.

"Shikigami, White Dog."

With a quiet murmur, the shadowy figure of his shikigami appeared, snatching Zen'in Fan's severed head in its jaws before disappearing back into the darkness.

With that, both his father and mother could rest in peace.

The blood mist that filled the air: "..."

The head swallowed by the dog: "..."

After cleaning the blood off his body, Mirai stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, gazing at his reflection. His black eyes, under the influence of cursed energy, turned blood-red once again!

Feeding off endless cursed energy, awakened by the surge of intense emotions—the Mangekyō Sharingan had emerged.

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