Chapter 32: Shuten-dōji

It was far too easy for a Jujutsu Sorcerer who commanded thousands of Cursed Spirits to incite a national crisis. Even if most of the spirits under Suguru Geto's control were not high-grade, their sheer volume made them lethal—especially in places like Shinjuku, where densely packed civilian populations offered no defense.

Suguru Geto's declaration had sent shockwaves through every channel, from government to underground. Even before the appointed day of the Hyakki Yagyō, both Jujutsu High and national forces had begun executing contingency plans in Shinjuku and Kyoto.

One of the most visible changes was the increase in security checks. Many Curse Users affiliated with Geto had criminal records, and the more arrogant among them had been on wanted lists for years. To preemptively neutralize potential infiltrators, authorities began deploying measures that, while crude, could still yield results.

That being said, Shinjuku and Kyoto weren't rural outposts—they couldn't just be "sealed off." These were urban hubs, impossible to evacuate without drawing public attention. Once barriers were erected, battles would be swift, but until then, containment was a nightmare.

Still, Shingen Genichi didn't particularly care.

Despite the tension crackling in the air like static, the Sorcerers themselves weren't fearful of the outcome. Not even the higher-ups at Jujutsu High—who typically treated Gojo Satoru like a blight—doubted that he could carry the war on his back.

And frankly, they were probably relieved there was only one Gojo Satoru.

The real concern was how many lives they'd lose before the dust settled—and what secret weapon Geto was hiding.

That was the lingering fear. Because truth be told, Suguru Geto should've been dead long ago. After he defected, Gojo didn't kill him. And the only other Special Grade—Yuki Tsukumo—was rarely in Japan.

Even if Jujutsu High had the means to eliminate him, they deemed it unnecessary. The cult he built was laughable compared to older, more dangerous factions. It was just a vessel to stockpile Cursed Spirits and loyal Curse Users.

But now? Now he'd announced his war. Time, date, and location. It wasn't strategy—it was provocation.

A pure madness

---

December 24th. Shinjuku.

Once a sea of neon, crowds, and late-night chatter, now it stood eerily deserted, as if the city itself were holding its breath.

The only movement came from the Jujutsu Sorcerers stationed at intersections, rooftops, and alleys—every capable fighter present.

Only Yuta Okkotsu and Maki Zenin had been held back.

Yuta, because of Rika Orimoto. If he were injured or emotionally compromised, Rika could lose control—and then, there would be no sides left to protect.

As for Maki, she relied entirely on her glasses to see Cursed Spirits. In a chaotic warzone, if those broke, she'd be fighting blind. Her presence, while valuable, was too much of a liability.

Even Yuihara Nao had joined the frontlines.

According to Nanami Kento, her growth had been "remarkably fast." And just before deployment, Gojo Satoru delivered a new piece of bad news:

"The Totsuka-no-Tsurugi that was confiscated? It's been stolen. I'd bet anything it was Geto's doing."

Shingen Genichi muttered, "Don't tell me… he's found a way to revive Shuten-dōji?"

Gojo stretched his arms behind his head, voice still light:

"Then I'll just exorcise him. Genichi, you're not trying to get out of work, are you? Didn't you slay a Special Grade last time?"

Shingen smirked. "The capable do more work, right?"

"You didn't say that when you broke my tea set."

Before Genichi could answer, Gojo's expression changed. He tilted his head toward the sky.

"They're here."

And then it began.

Above and below, massive clusters of Cursed Spirits surged forth—pouring down streets, through alleys, and out of the skies like rain.

The ground vibrated from the sheer pressure of the incoming forces. Most were low-grade, but scattered among them were presences so powerful that other spirits actively kept their distance.

Gojo narrowed his eyes and looked toward a distant rooftop.

"That show-off isn't even here."

Far away, atop a building, Miguel stood beside two Curse Users. Their eyes locked onto Gojo.

"We'll keep Gojo Satoru occupied. Is Shuten-dōji ready?"

The man beside him holding three swords Totsuka-no-Tsurugi, Onikiri, and Spider Cutter hanging from his belt—gave a brief nod.

"We'll execute soon. Send more spirits to distract them. When I act, the revival will begin. If it works, we might cripple them all tonight."

Miguel twirled a whip of braided threads and jumped to the ground.

"Then let's begin."

Shingen Genichi stood at high ground, bow in hand, firing Cursed Energy arrows in succession. He wasn't just killing—he more on supporting.

Each shot cleared a path, pinned a larger Curse, or stalled movement so allies could strike.

His Cursed Energy was used with surgical precision. No waste. Every shot had purpose.

Suddenly, Ijichi ran up to Gojo.

"Gojo-san! It's about what you had me investigate—urgent!"

Gojo processed the information quickly, then barked:

"Panda! Inumaki! Genichi!"

They responded immediately. "What is it?"

Gojo began drawing complex symbols beneath them.

"Suguru's at Jujutsu High. We've been duped. I'm sending you back."

Just then, the earth rumbled, and a gigantic stone spirit emerged like a living mountain.

But before it could attack, Nanami Kento cleaved it in half with one swing.

From the site of its death, a new cursed aura emerged—stronger.

Gojo looked toward Shingen, who had already moved.

"Change of plans. I'll deal with this. You two protect Yuta and Maki."

He clapped his hands.

Boom.

Panda and Inumaki vanished.

Moments earlier—

Shingen Genichi was already mid-air, heading toward the flare of cursed energy.

He passed Nanami Kento, who was charging toward someone, screaming.

Then he saw it.

Yuihara Nao—blade through her chest, eyes wide in disbelief.

The Totsuka-no-Tsurugi, pulsing with black runes, sank into her flesh. Her blood activated the markings, which slithered into her body like worms.

"Totsuka-no-Tsurugi…"

That thought flashed through her mind as consciousness slipped. Somewhere, she thought she heard laughter—thin, wild, echoing.

Shingen's heart dropped. The cut missed the heart. If they moved fast, she could be saved. But—

"This aura… it's not hers. Totsuka… Shuten-dōji… Minamoto descendant—damn it!"

He landed.

Too late.

Yuihara's eyes had turned red, shining with twisted pleasure.

A storm of cursed energy surrounded her. Her black hair turned crimson. Horns sprouted. Bones cracked. Height increased.

This wasn't possession.

This was Incarnation.

"Time Wheel – Reversal!"

Shingen reached out with his Technique—but failed.

There were now two beings in her body—Yuihara and something else. Something far older. Far worse.

"I can't reverse her back. But her soul… her Technique—if I can extract her soul and isolate it—"

He shifted focus.

And it worked.

A misty form appeared beside him—Yuihara Nao's soul, separated and safe. She looked at her own body, frozen in horror.

Then, that body opened its five eyes.

Its mouth twisted into a grin.

Her form grew larger. Her crimson tattoos pulsed. Her horns glinted in the night air.

"It's so good to be back in the human world…so this is futures,eh?"

Her cursed energy swelled outward like a tsunami.

"I am the King of Hundred Ghosts—Shuten-dōji"

"Offer me everything you possess!"

"Kuhahahahah..."

A wild and chilling laughter echoes through entire neighborhood, sending shiver to everyone spine.

And the battlefield changed forever.

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Word Count:1,209