[11] : You’re Acting Like Sung Jin woo

A few minutes earlier—inside the juvenile detention center, at an indoor swimming pool with no water.

Boom!

Like a small missile hitting the ground, an impact exploded in the center of the pool. With a thunderous roar, the pool floor was carved out in a wide, conical swath.

Shards of concrete flew. Dust choked the dim lighting. Two figures were blasted backward.

Those two were Megumi Fushiguro and Yuji Itadori.

Fushiguro managed to correct his stance midair, planting both feet and skidding to a stop. But Itadori had no such luck, tumbling a dozen meters before finally lurching to a halt.

From the elbow down—including his wrist—Itadori's left arm was gone, sliced so cleanly it looked like it had been cut by a laser. He'd used a torn piece of cloth to bind the wound and keep from bleeding out.

Their enemy—a creature that could barely be called "Humanoid." It had two arms, two legs, and one head perched on two shoulders. But above the neck, its features had fully mutated into a Curse: a gaping crimson maw with no nose, and four eyes spread across grotesque, melon-like nodules sprouting from its forehead like dreadlocks.

It was ugly, and it was strong.

At least to the current Itadori and Fushiguro, it seemed utterly out of their league. Even though they hadn't yet been killed outright, it was only a matter of time.

Especially now that Itadori was missing an entire arm—he was struggling just to keep his balance. His burden fell squarely on Fushiguro, who was effectively defending a crippled partner against a Special-Grade Curse.

It was hardly a fight. More like cornered mice being toyed with by a cat.

And the creature's gleeful, mocking motions made that painfully clear.

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"Hey, Sukuna! Didn't you say that if I die, you die too?! Do something!" Itadori roared in desperation.

[I refuse~ I still have eighteen more soul fragments even if you kick the bucket. Besides, having to share a body I can't fully control is annoying. If I force myself to take over now, the first thing I'll do is kill that brat beside you.]

"You won't get the chance!"

[Heh heh, I figured. Then quit yapping at me—if you get distracted again, that brat really will die.]

The voice in his head vanished. Breathing raggedly, Yuji Itadori took up a desperate stance, lips tight.

"Fushiguro."

"Huh?"

"I've got a plan. I'll distract it—buy some time. You grab Nobara and get out of here. Once you're safe, give me the signal."

"What?! Don't be stupid! We can't handle it together—there's no way you can do it alone—"

"Yeah, I know. That's exactly why… I'm begging you."

"..."

"..."

"…Fine."

After a short silence, Fushiguro nodded. He abandoned the fight and ran in the opposite direction.

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Minutes later, Itadori had become little more than a battered rag doll. He slumped against the wall at the edge of the empty pool, eyes clouding with every passing breath. The thick concrete behind him was caved in a wide, spiderweb pattern.

His left arm had been severed at the start; his right hand's five fingers were sheared off. Countless bruises and cuts covered his body, and blood dripped from his mouth, hinting at damaged organs.

He was on the verge of death.

Yet there's a saying: Sometimes fate leaves a way out.

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Awooo—!

A distant wolf's howl broke through walls and echoes, crossing both time and space to reach the pool. It stirred the last shred of consciousness in Yuji Itadori.

He recognized that sound—Divine Dogs from Fushiguro's Ten Shadows Technique. If Fushiguro was letting them howl, that meant he'd succeeded in escaping and was sending the signal.

Relief curved Itadori's bleeding lips. Slowly, he closed his eyes.

His awareness sank like a stone into black waters. Dark lines swirled onto his face. And when his eyes reopened—he was someone else.

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A thousand years ago, they called him the King of Curses— Ryomen Sukuna.

"Phew… can't believe that brat actually managed to survive this long. Irritating."

He sighed, pushing away from the cracked wall. His injuries mended in an instant beneath his Cursed Energy; even the blood vanished like it never existed.

Rolling his shoulders, Sukuna paused in thought. Then he crooked a finger at the Special-Grade Curse standing a short distance away, eyeing him warily.

"Follow me. Let's hunt down that other kid—"

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Before he could finish, the ceiling tore apart with a thunderous crash, drowning out his voice. Sukuna and the Curse both jerked their heads upward. Through the gaping hole in the roof, fiery red sunlight flooded in.

A figure bathed in Golden Spiritual Energy now stood atop a pile of rubble directly beneath the open sky. He seemed to be holding someone in his arms.

"Alrighty, we made it—see? Flying sure beats running."

"Ugh… yeah…"

Though she wasn't hurt in the slightest, Saeko Busujima found her knees stiff. Sure, it was fast… but talk about extreme. It felt like traveling by Jet Fighter. So this was the power of a Special-Grade Onmyoji.

"You okay?"

Sensing her tension, Bokue Keikain tilted his head.

"I made sure to slow down, y'know—floated over like a dandelion seed. Normally, we'd arrive in a blink."

He'd even tried to pick a gentle metaphor.

Saeko: "..."

"Anyway, we've got a job to do. Where's the Special-Grade Curse?"

With a light pat to her shoulder, Bokue peered down from the rubble.

At once, his gaze met the faces of both Sukuna (in Itadori's body) and the monstrous Curse.

Hmm…

"So, which of you is it? Or are you both Special-Grades?"

He asked curiously.

They both looked about equally strong… or rather, equally weak from his perspective. The bald-headed scrawny one looked even weaker. But hey, best not to mistake his target.

"Technically," Saeko said, "Both of them are."

The moment she recognized Sukuna, she became hyper-vigilant. Letting her sword bag slide off her shoulder, she gripped a gleaming katana.

"That's Ryomen Sukuna, controlling the body of a Tokyo Jujutsu High second-year named Yuji Itadori—an officially approved vessel for Sukuna's fingers."

"An approved vessel? Oh, I see…"

Bokue nodded, as if comprehending the gist.

He was about to assign who should fight which target, but Sukuna—using Itadori's body—could no longer contain his rage.

"That presence… you're an Onmyoji?!"

Like a dam bursting, the memories of a thousand years ago surged within him. He clenched his right fist, gathering enough Cursed Energy to obliterate a Special-Grade Curse in one blow, and sprang at Bokue's face.

It all happened in a fraction of a second—Saeko couldn't react in time.

Then—

The fist brimming with insane Cursed Energy was casually blocked by a single finger—its Golden Aura receding as if Bokue had intentionally stripped it away at the last moment.

An all-out strike, stopped cold.

Bokue clicked his tongue.

"Dude—why're you acting like Sung Jin woo?"

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Update Schedule: 21 Chapter/week.

Every 100 Power Stones = 1 Extra Chapter