CHAPTER 16: YO, MISSED ME?

The night was unusually still.

Toji Fushiguro walked through the narrow hallway of the Star Religious Group's hidden compound, Amanai's lifeless body slung effortlessly over his shoulder. Her head drooped unnaturally, crimson trailing down his jacket. He looked as calm as ever, not a shadow of remorse clouding his mind.

He approached the altar chamber, where a man in a pristine suit sat cross-legged beneath the towering image of a golden Buddha. It was the Leader of the Time Vessel Association—a face that rarely saw the outside light, veiled in mystery and corruption.

Toji dropped Amanai's corpse on the white stone floor without ceremony. It landed with a dull thud.

The leader's followers flinched.

But the leader merely clapped once—slow, deliberate.

"Marvelous." His voice was low and humming with pleasure. "No curse could have done it better. As expected from the Sorcerer Killer."

Toji pulled a cigarette from his vest pocket and lit it slowly, ignoring the incense burning nearby.

The leader raised a hand. One of his robed assistants stepped forward with a metal briefcase.

With a quiet click, he unlocked it—stacked bundles of crisp yen bills lay inside. Toji didn't bother to count. He didn't need to.

"Three hundred thousand yen, as promised," the leader said, almost purring. "You have done a divine service for our movement. The heavens shall—"

"I don't give a damn about your gods," Toji interrupted coolly. He took the case and turned without another word.

"Indeed," the leader said behind him with a soft chuckle. "That's why you were perfect for this."

As Toji stepped into the corridor and walked toward the exit, the weight of silence pressed in. Outside, the wind howled lowly against the temple walls.

He descended the final stone steps toward the temple's outer gate.

And then—

A presence.

That pressure. That cursed energy.

Toji stopped.

His eyes narrowed as a chill ran up his spine.

Standing at the gate's threshold, under the moonlight, arms crossed, was… him.

The white blindfold had been discarded. Satoru Gojo stood tall, a deep gash still visible on his neck, blood dried across his uniform.

But he was alive. Radiating cursed energy like a second sun.

He tilted his head, smirked, and said just one word.

"Yo."

Toji's eyes widened. His pulse jumped.

"Missed me?" Gojo added with a grin, raising one hand lazily.

A sharp gust of wind tore through the gates, scattering leaves and dust into the sky as the cursed energy around Gojo spiked beyond anything Toji had felt before.

The Sorcerer Killer clicked his tongue, muttering:

"…Tch. Should've cut deeper."

Gojo's smile never faded.

But behind it was wrath.

And now…

The real fight begins.