CHAPTER 17: THE TYPE THAT DIES ALONE

The dust hadn't even settled from Panda's last slam before another shadow flashed across the sky. It was heavy, muscular, and loud—

BOOM!

A heel dropped straight into Sukuna's chest from above, sending the King of Curses crashing back into the earth, harder than gravity itself.

"YOOO!" came a familiar voice.

A booming laugh followed.

Aoi Todo landed beside him, popping his neck to the side, stretching his shoulders.

"This isn't just a fight," he said with a grin. "It's a cultural festival of fists, and I'm the headliner!"

He grabbed Sukuna by the face and slammed his head into the concrete four times in a row before chucking him across a broken taxi cab.

Sukuna, bleeding and gasping, tried to sit up.

But Todo was already behind him, fists clenched, veins bulging, cursed energy bursting out like fireworks.

"Let's make this interesting, huh?"

Black Flash.

The moment Todo's fist connected with Sukuna's ribs, it was like a thunderclap inside a volcano. Sukuna's body bent sideways unnaturally as he was flung through two buildings like a ragdoll.

He barely got to his feet before—

Black Flash.

Another punch to the face, jaw snapping sideways.

Black Flash.

Gut.

Black Flash.

Liver.

Sukuna coughed up blood and curses, unable to react.

Todo stood in front of him, cracking his knuckles, eyes wild with intensity and mischief.

"Oi, King of Curses," he said, "What's your type of woman?"

Sukuna blinked, stunned by the question mid-battle.

"What…?"

Todo leaned forward. "You heard me. Your type. What kind of woman do you like?"

Sukuna, bruised and confused, smirked. "The type who knows her place and shuts her mouth."

Todo's expression darkened like a thundercloud.

"…You disgust me."

Then, he disappeared.

Only to reappear directly in front of Sukuna with a fist coated in cursed energy so thick it looked molten.

"You are not a man of taste."

BOOM!

Todo's punch landed square into Sukuna's face, blasting him through an entire apartment complex.

Concrete shattered. Metal screamed. Glass exploded.

Sukuna vanished into the side of a skyscraper, his body hitting it like a meteor and sticking halfway through the steel beams, blood painting the tower like graffiti.

Todo looked up with mild annoyance.

"Tch. I barely even warmed up."

He turned to Gojo, who was still seated with Utahime and Shoko, sipping a juice box.

Gojo gave a thumbs up.

Utahime rolled her eyes. "You're encouraging him now?"

Gojo laughed. "Of course. That man's fists are powered by his standards in women."

Back at the skyscraper, Sukuna slowly peeled himself off the wall and dropped to the ground like a broken doll.

His face was swollen. Bones cracked. Teeth missing.

He looked up—and saw another figure approaching.

Kashimo Hajime.

With lightning dancing around his body and rage glowing in his eyes.

Sukuna exhaled heavily.

"This… is getting out of hand."