Markus's eyes fluttered open, slowly, unsure. That alone was enough to confuse him. After all, death was supposed to be permanent.
After all, death was a rather permanent situation. He had seen enough of it to know that.
He knew enough about the human body to tell the glass had cut too deep. Fatal wounds. No saving that.
Too many major arteries, the sudden movement of his car had also slightly shifted the glass, which had allowed his blood to spill out.
There was no way he could have survived that, even if he had been teleported to a hospital. He'd be dead in minutes.
'So there is an afterlife then? Is that why I am stuck in place, unable to move?'
He could feel it. His body, if he still had one, was unable to move. He felt the tight constraints around it, which seemed to shift slightly every time he struggled to move.
But nothing worked yet; he couldn't even move a finger.
'I mean... Still better than living in some parts of Los Angeles if you ask me.
The devil really gotta learn to do better, humans have long surpassed him in how vile they are.'
But there was no sound of fire around him, there was no heat, and there was no coldness either.
The deceased blonde man felt an odd, familiar warmth around him. It felt nice, it felt cosy, even though it was also suffocating.
'This is all well and good... But what exactly is this strange... Sensation.'
He felt... In control? He could feel his muscles shifting, still forming, he felt that he had full control over each and every part.
He could feel every inch of his body, but he couldn't feel any organs.
'Am I a baby? No... From the musculature I can feel, I should be in the body of an adult at the very least...'
There was also something else...
It was odd, something he had never experienced before; it was as if he could feel something like blood flowing through his entire body. But it wasn't a liquid.
'Feels like electricity coursing through my veins constantly, yet it does not shock my muscles, it does not even heat me up...'
It felt as if his body was radiating energy, and more and more was gathering in one place, right underneath his skin.
With a raised eyebrow, he began to focus inward a bit more. He could feel that energy taking a form, a strangely human shape.
'Is this... My soul? Why does it feel so vile?'
It was just a feeling; he had no way of knowing it for sure, but at that point, since he had died and was now elsewhere, it was quite fair to assume that souls existed, and if so, then he could now feel his.
The amount of negative emotions that his soul seemed to emanate also took him by surprise.
And it wasn't just his soul, his surroundings in general, that strange electricity that coursed through him; it was all seemingly radiating hatred and negative emotions.
It would normally feel repulsive to a regular person, but Markus just felt that it was strangely familiar.
He was used to being surrounded by negative emotions in his past life; at every corner of every week, there was another task waiting for him.
There was always another life to cut short or yet more knowledge about whatever fucked up things happened in the privacy of some rich bastard's homes.
He did everything from high-profile body disposal to chauffeuring around people who needed extra protection.
He stood witness to many crimes, and stood watch while many atrocities were committed; he watched the helpless eyes of many victims throughout his career.
The fear he felt from them at that time, the one he saw in their eyes, was similar to the one that was now surrounding him.
Fear and hatred were born in humans for other humans.
But what he felt before were mere inklings of that hatred. But what he felt now was a lot more 'alive'. It felt as if that hatred was now manifested.
And that manifestation was forming somewhere deep inside his soul, still evolving in a strangely macabre way.
'What the hell is going on...'
Markus sighed as he relaxed his senses. He wanted to shake his head, to shake those thoughts away for a moment, but he couldn't move a muscle, despite feeling like he could control every inch of his body.
He didn't know where he was or why he was there.
For a moment, the thought that he had survived and was somehow kidnapped reached his mind. Was he being used for some fucked up experiments?
It was hard to tell, especially since there were no voices to hear, no other sensations other than his muscles and bones wriggling and forming around his soul.
'It seems my body is slowly taking the shape of my soul, as hazy as it is...'
The concept of a body mimicking a soul was somewhat familiar to Markus, but it was far too soon to come to any conclusions.
But the time to finally move came rather soon. Or it felt soon, his mind seemed to wander in places for a while before he finally noticed he could move a finger.
And when he moved a finger, the walls around him seemed to collapse, his arms immediately stretched and broke apart the membrane that had surrounded his body.
It felt... Unnaturally easy, the hatred that surrounded him and coalesced into his soul was now acting as a strengthening force. And that fleshy membrane provided no resistance as he ripped it apart and jumped out of it, rolling forward and looking around in a panic.
He had expected to see people around him, maybe his captors or something, anything, but he didn't expect his entire surroundings to be a what looked like a sewer of flesh and blood.
'Was I... Was I just born in a sewer from a gigantic womb?'
It was a disgusting notion to Markus, but he had no other way of interpreting the situation.
That electrifying hatred he felt deep within his soul seemed to flare up at the notion, as disgust filled him slightly.
But that energy wasn't enough to affect his mind; he was used to keeping his cool.
Looking around, he couldn't help but scowl as the stench finally started entering his nostrils. But regardless, he walked forward, swaying from side to side as he headed for the murky water of the sewers.
In that murky water, he could see his reflection, slightly different from before, though.
His previously prim and proper short blonde hair was now long and messy. His previous royal blue eyes were now a deep purple, and his perfectly sculpted face looked... off?
His facial structure stayed the same; it just looked like someone had cut his face and stitched it back together. It looked similar, just wrong.
Still, finally taking in his appearance, Markus's eyes couldn't help but widen, as a name finally appeared on his mind.
'Wait... am I ... Mahito?'
Anime had never been a passion for Markus, but he did have several hobbies outside of his job. After all, it sometimes took weeks for him to receive a task due to how intense the bidding wars for his services were.
Gaming, anime, reading, writing, drawing, singing, he had indulged in just about everything on a superficial level.
Jujutsu Kaisen was one of the anime/manga he had seen before.
The prospect of a shounen story taking place in a world entirely run on hatred and negative energy was intriguing, to say the least.
It had resonated with him in a way; the atrocities that he saw on a regular basis were also somewhat empowering to him.
He had vowed to do anything in his power to never become a victim; he had killed, silenced, bribed, blackmailed, and he had done everything humanly possible.
Yet, there was only so much a human could do in the end. He ended up as another car-crashing statistic. All it took was a second's lapse in attention, as he was finally retiring.
Maybe the few letters from children from earlier had softened his nerves enough to allow for such a moment to occur... But that didn't matter anymore.
What mattered most was where he was now.
'I am inhabiting a special grade cursed spirit, in this world ruled by power...'
For a moment, a wide smile spread on Markus's lips, his unnaturally white teeth shining slightly as his purple eyes seemed to burn with cursed energy.
At the end of the day, Mahito had arguably one of the most powerful cursed techniques in the world.
A damn near instant kill to all sorcerers who had no perception of the soul and didn't know how to protect it.
Though from his knowledge, he still knew that he was in danger. He needed to do one thing, and do it quickly.
'I have to get the fuck out of Japan...'
Unfortunately, in his excitement and confusion, the newly born special-grade cursed spirit failed to notice the figure that had walked up behind him.
"Good... You're awake."
Markus immediately turned around, his muscles shifting slightly as all of his fingers melded together and formed a blade, reaching towards the ground.
'That was... Unnaturally easy to do. What a convenient technique.'
Unfortunately for Markus, the person in front of him was not someone he could take on with just a blade or two.
"Welcome to the world of Jujutsu, Cursed Spirit!"
From the shifting shadows in front of him, the silhouette of a tall, lean figure with long black hair tied in a loose man bun walked out.
A pair of deep violet eyes glinted beneath stray bangs, his mouth portrayed a calm and composed smile, amicable, but noticeable, deceitful to someone who was used to hanging around actors.
His gold monk's robes drape over dark yukata, white tabi and zōri, completing his composed, striking silhouette.
The most striking feature of his? The stitches that stretched across his forehead.
'Fuck... Of all people, it just had to be him...'