CHAPTER 9: CAGE WITHOUT A KEY

Laughter echoed through the dim chambers of the cursed subway.

Kenjaku sat on a toppled throne of bone and concrete, swirling cursed energy in his palm like wine in a glass. Mahito grinned beside him, legs lazily crossed over a shattered signboard. Jogo stood by the shadows, while Choso leaned against a cracked wall, arms folded, satisfied.

They had won.

Or so they thought.

The sound of boots clicking echoed through the tunnel—two figures walked forward with elegance and power.

Mei Mei and Utahime Iori.

Their presence made even the curses pause.

"Yo," Mei Mei said, adjusting her scarf and glancing lazily at the four. "Let's make this easy."

Her eyes glinted.

"You have two options. One—fight us, and hand over the Prison Realm once we beat you. Or two—" she cracked her knuckles, "we beat the hell out of you anyway, and you still hand it over."

Kenjaku's smile twisted.

"And what makes you think you're capable of taking it?"

Mei Mei tilted her head. "Because you're not fighting. You're sitting there like a creepy emcee. If it was just Mahito, Jogo, and Choso?" She smirked. "Please."

Utahime's eyes narrowed.

Then Mei Mei added, grinning, "Besides, the Prison Realm contains Utahime's future husband—so she's very motivated."

A moment of silence.

Utahime turned her head very slowly toward Mei Mei, eyes glowing with rage.

"Say that again, and I will use my cursed technique to sew your mouth shut."

Mahito giggled. "Ooh, this is getting fun."

And so it began.

The battle ignited in a burst of cursed sparks.

Jogo was the first to move, launching a meteor-flamed punch toward Mei Mei. But the moment his attack flew, she had already sidestepped it, spinning her staff and cleaving through the flame.

Mei Mei moved like a blade in the wind—swift, sharp, merciless.

Utahime stayed close, her technique amplifying cursed energy, syncing their rhythm. Together, they struck as one.

Mahito lunged toward Utahime, his hands pulsing with Idle Transfiguration. But Utahime danced back, parrying his hand with a burst of cursed energy, then slammed a reinforced talisman across Mahito's chest, sending him flying.

Choso fired a barrage of blood projectiles, but Mei Mei was a blur—dodging, countering, and slicing the blood midair with inhuman precision.

Kenjaku just watched.

Not a finger moved.

He was studying them.

Measuring them.

And then—he stood.

He pulled the Prison Realm from the folds of his robe, still humming with sealed cursed energy.

The moment Mei Mei saw it, her eyes sharpened.

"Hand it over."

Kenjaku smiled.

He tossed the black cube gently in her direction, like a gift wrapped in shadows. Mei Mei caught it midair.

"But," Kenjaku said, his voice now cold, "you'll never open it."

He tapped his temple.

"The key—the curse trigger—is with me. You're welcome to try cracking it. You won't. Satoru Gojo stays where he is."

Before either sorceress could react, Kenjaku snapped his fingers.

A portal of cursed energy burst open behind him, and both he and Mahito stepped inside.

They vanished.

Jogo, sweating, turned to run. "Screw this."

Choso vanished into the shadows with a grim look—silent, uncertain.

And just like that, the battlefield was quiet again.

Mei Mei sighed, holding the Prison Realm in both hands.

"Great. We got the box... without the damn key."

Utahime crossed her arms. "So what now?"

Mei Mei grinned.

"Now we go tell the others we've found their beloved blindfolded idiot."

Utahime's eyebrow twitched. "Stop calling him that."

"I mean, come on. I just saved your future husband."

"Say that again," Utahime warned, her cursed energy sparking around her.

But Mei Mei was already tapping her phone, relaying the information.

📡

Incoming transmission — From Mei Mei to Itadori, Nanami, and all teams:

"We have the Prison Realm. Gojo is still inside. Kenjaku has the key. We need to find him—fast."

📡

And with that, a flicker of hope returned to the battlefield.