Naoxu had never experienced such intense fear.
Since she was little, she had always been timid. Even simple courage tests with classmates left her trembling. But now, on the verge of graduating high school, the world had pulled a cruel trick—Curses were real.
News of horrifying supernatural events exploded across the internet. The only shred of comfort she had was the existence of Jujutsu Sorcerers. Unlike the infatuated squealing of her classmates, Naoxu felt genuine relief knowing that someone, somewhere, could fight back.
Still, she'd never seen a Curse herself. That is, until last night.
Her former middle school classmate—someone she hadn't spoken to in years—suddenly sent her a video. She tapped it without much thought. On-screen, a dim forest appeared, and in the center, a crumbling stone well.
She immediately recognized the reference. Sadako. The cursed videotape. Panic gripped her. She shut the video instantly, but cold sweat drenched her back.
Her old friend sent several frantic messages afterward, filled with typos and panic. Apologies. Desperation. He confessed he'd shared the video to survive and begged her to do the same.
If this had happened a few months ago, she might have dismissed it as a joke. But now, with Curses known to be real, only one thought crossed her mind:
"This is a real Curse event..."
Through her mounting fear, a memory surfaced—the emergency hotline for supernatural incidents. Rumor had it someone who dialed it randomly was taken away by the Jujutsu authorities.
Her hands shaking, she made the call. A soft, composed woman answered. She listened patiently to Naoxu's explanation, took down her details, and stayed on the line to calm her down.
Oddly, though terror pressed in on her, Naoxu found herself steadying. It wasn't that she wasn't scared—her fingers trembled, her breath was short—but some inner strength allowed her to think clearly. She even planned an escape in case the Curse targeted her home. She wouldn't let her sleeping parents get dragged into this.
She kept chatting with the woman on the line, unaware that the operator was just as shaken.
Unlike civilians, Supervisors and Jujutsu staff fully understood what Sadako meant. After listening to Naoxu's account, the operator triggered the highest emergency protocol she was authorized to use.
The moment she heard a Curse was spreading via a video, she panicked. This sounded like an imagined Special Grade. The type born not from history, but from the collective belief of the masses.
Fortunately, help had already been dispatched. Sorcerers were on their way, and even a Special Grade had been mobilized. Her job now was to keep the victim calm. That, she did not expect to be easy.
But Naoxu surprised her. She was... almost composed. And after a bit of small talk, the operator could feel the tension lifting.
"Don't worry. A Special Grade Sorcerer is on the way. Until then, you'll be escorted to a safe location."
The mention of a Special Grade snapped Naoxu's attention. Her heart skipped. She immediately thought of the three most famous names in the Jujutsu world. Just the idea of one of them coming in person gave her hope.
She asked who it would be. The operator told her.
"Special Grade Sorcerer, Kamihara Hajime."
Hearing the name, Naoxu's breath caught in her throat. Of course she knew him. Everyone did. She'd watched the broadcast on the first day of public disclosure. His performance was brief, but unforgettable.
Her classmates had screamed and fawned over him, especially when he unleashed his Technique. The memory still rang in her ears.
"If they find out I'm about to meet Hajime-san in person… they'll explode with envy."
That thought made her flush, but the doorbell broke her chain of thought. Hearing her parents stir, she rushed to the door. Through the peephole, three figures in black suits stood outside. Her heart eased slightly.
They confirmed her identity and swiftly led her to a car. Her parents, still groggy, were told everything would be explained. She left quietly.
The "safe point" turned out to be a reinforced building in the suburbs, its interior laced with protective talismans. She was led into a barrier-isolated room with just a chair and headphones. The supervising voices continued reassuring her, but anxiety gnawed at her gut.
Then it happened.
Twenty-three minutes and fifteen seconds after she entered the room, a fluctuation in Cursed Energy triggered the alarm.
She screamed.
The observers, stunned, watched as the concrete floor of the room twisted and reshaped into damp soil and tangled weeds, just like the cursed video. It only lasted a few seconds... but it was enough.
No Curse appeared, but the sheer surrealism of the transformation terrified her. Even outside the room, the Sorcerers were frozen in fear. Their highest-grade combatant was only a Grade 2. If Sadako appeared now, they wouldn't stand a chance.
The tension remained unbearable—until their backup arrived.
"Kamihara-sama, here's the report. The Cursed individual is within the barrier, but it's not working. About ten seconds ago, the Curse triggered a localized phenomenon inside."
Kamihara Hajime reviewed the briefing. The first victim—Naoxu's friend—was already confirmed dead. Based on preliminary analysis, the Curse's propagation mimicked the fictional story: a videotape. But unlike the original legend, the delay wasn't seven days. It could kill within minutes or hours.
"Is she still inside?"
He received a nod and entered.
Inside, Naoxu sat trembling. She looked up at him, eyes wide, and whispered:
"Hajime-san...?"
He paused. It was the first time someone addressed him with such reverence. Usually, people just shortened his name or added some dumb nickname. Only Gojo-sensei got the "-sama" treatment.
But Kamihara Hajime quickly composed himself. He sat beside her.
"Are you experiencing anything unusual—physically or mentally?"
She shook her head, still stunned that someone her age could look so composed. Her fear melted away just seeing him.
Her gaze drifted to the small owl perched on his shoulder—a Cursed Corpse. Then she blurted out:
"Um... are you livestreaming?"
He smiled faintly.
"Yeah. This Curse spreads through video, so we're being careful. Don't worry, you won't be on camera. I've already adjusted the angle."
The sudden attention still made her panic a little. The idea that millions might be watching made her blush in embarrassment.
Unbeknownst to her, the stream's chat had exploded. Viewers gushed about Hajime's calm voice and demeanor. Even though the girl had clearly suffered a traumatic encounter, many jokingly begged to switch places with her.
Hajime, of course, ignored all that. After easing her nerves with light conversation, he slowly returned to the topic.
It was definitely a Special Grade imagined Cursed Spirit. Worse, its propagation method was wide-reaching. The internet alone could spread the Curse worldwide.
He suddenly thought of the 88 Bridge incident, and how even now, Tsumiki remained in a coma. That Curse hadn't been the only one. And this might be the kind of thing behind it.
His expression turned cold.
He called the Spellcasters outside and requested Naoxu's phone. The original video was still in her message history. Her phone had been confiscated earlier.
After setting the barrier and having the monitoring devices removed, he handed the Cursed Corpse to her for safety.
"I'll watch it myself. If it targets me, I'll deal with it."
He sat down, loaded the video, and hit play.
A dim forest.
A dry stone well.
The soundless pressure that clung to the cursed video felt suffocating.
Then, slowly, a pale figure crawled out. White dress. Black hair. The uncanny crawl. It was an almost perfect recreation of Sadako from the horror films.
Kamihara Hajime was no fan of horror, but he'd seen classics. None of them compared to the real thing.
Still, he wasn't afraid.
He was a Sorcerer. He killed Curses. No matter how terrifying the figure was, he could destroy her.
And yet...
He tilted his head slightly.
"Huh... actually, she's kind of well-proportioned under that dress…"
Then the image glitched.
A decayed eye filled the screen. Rotting flesh. Black hair spilling everywhere. The image swelled with cursed energy.
Kamihara Hajime narrowed his eyes.
"So that's your game... Sadako."
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