The street was empty, save for the flicker of broken neon signs and the hum of power lines overhead. Shibuya's chaos had pushed most civilians away from this block. It was quiet, almost unnaturally so, the kind of silence that comes before something violent.
Mahito stood at its center.
Across from him, Toji Fushiguro advanced, barefoot on the cracked pavement. His posture was loose, almost lazy, but every step hit the ground with the weight of a predator. His eyes were vacant, stripped of human thought, yet sharpened by pure instinct.
A corpse reborn through the Seance Technique, nothing more than muscle memory wrapped in flesh. And yet, Mahito's lips curved into a smile.
"So this is you, huh?" he murmured. "The infamous Zen'in Toji. The man who nearly killed Satoru Gojo."
The thought alone filled him with a ripple of amusement. To everyone else in the Jujutsu world, Gojo Satoru was untouchable. He was the ceiling, the strongest. Jujutsu Sorcery driven to the extreme. Worshipped. Envied. Feared.
To Mahito, he was an obstacle. A goal to surpass. A measuring stick for what it meant to be more than human.
And this creature standing before him? This was the man who had once dragged Gojo down from his golden throne. And ironically, the one who had pushed the strongest to grow the most.
Mahito's smile widened. "Perfect. Let's see where I stand~"
He moved first.
Using his researched understanding of the body, his form shifted mid-step, muscles threading tighter, bones compressing and elongating in precise ratios.
His frame slimmed, proportions adjusting to maximise speed, tendons humming with cursed energy.
The pavement cracked as he launched forward, fingers moulding together into a blade scything toward Toji's throat.
Toji didn't dodge. He leaned just enough, the motion so small it was insulting. Mahito's strike cut only air.
Then Toji moved.
A blur. A rush of air that tore at Mahito's clothes.
A fist swung upward like a hammer, catching him under the ribs. Pain blossomed, bright and sharp, and Mahito was sent skidding back, bouncing against the hood of a parked car. Metal crumpled under the impact.
Mahito coughed once, then laughed. "So fast."
'He's way above any of the disaster curses in speed~ So this is what's needed to reach the top?!'
He rolled off the car, skin rippling as his torso stitched itself back together. Reinforcement layered over his body, cursed energy coursing through his muscles in waves. His form bent again, this time bulging slightly, reinforcing every fibre for durability while maintaining speed.
Toji was already on him.
His strikes were savage, unrelenting, hooks, jabs, knees, each one perfectly timed to exploit an opening Mahito hadn't even realised existed.
It was like fighting an animal honed by nothing but instinct, yet sharper than any technique. Mahito caught a kick on his forearm, only for the bone beneath to crack audibly. His flesh bulged, reshaping, sealing the damage before it could spread.
Despite the growing hints of dull pain, Mahito couldn't help but grin through that onslaught of strikes.
"Impressive~ So this is what Maki is turning into, huh?" His tone was conversational, as though they weren't locked in a battle that shattered concrete with every step. "Strength, speed, reflexes. Almost divine."
Toji didn't answer. He couldn't. But his silence was louder than words.
Another strike came, this time a backhand that split the air. Mahito ducked, the blow grazing his head and tearing off a lock of golden hair. He retaliated by stretching his arm into a whip, slicing across Toji's chest. The flesh tore, blood spraying.
A whip was the fastest weapon that Mahito could turn his body into; even a regular whip could technically reach the speed of sound. When someone like Mahito wielded it?
Well, let's just say that Mahito had something to at least match, or even surpass, Toji in speed.
Even so, the reanimated man's durability was impressive.
A thorned whip that could've torn the average sorcerers to pieces only left a scratch on his clothes.
An injury like that would not slow him down much. It took one second, then Toji pressed forward again, moving even faster.
His leg shot forward into a high kick, aiming square for Mahito's temple, a hit that the Special Grade was forced to take as his skull was crushed almost instantly.
Even so, his smile never wavered. Not even as he was sent flipping through the air and landed back on his feet.
He shifted that momentum into yet another swing, his whip changing into a flexible blade as it snapped towards the reanimated Toji.
The strike cracked like thunder, faster than the human eye could hope to follow, forcing the former Sorcerer Killer to block with his arm.
That blade sliced through Toji's forearm cleanly, coming to a stop only after Mahito pulled it back.
"Without a cursed tool, though…" Mahito tilted his head, his face rearranging itself as his skull mended "…you can't touch me. Not really."
It was true. Infinity might not have been wrapped around Mahito, but his body was cursed energy incarnate. Toji's raw power was devastating, but without a blade infused with cursed energy, Mahito could repair himself as quickly as he was torn apart.
Even without that, Mahito himself was far harder to damage than other Curses; any damage his body took took no Cursed Energy to heal. Unless his soul itself was damaged, he would be able to regenerate endlessly.
Still, that didn't mean the fight was meaningless.
If anything, it was invaluable.
Mahito adjusted his form again, legs coiling tighter, muscles swelling with condensed power. He met Toji's next rush head-on, their blows colliding with a shockwave that rattled the street. He was slower, weaker, but each clash taught him something new.
This was what the pinnacle of physicality looked like. The tremendous power that Maki was still in the process of adapting to.
Every cracked rib, every torn muscle, every split lip was a lesson.
He felt his body knitting itself back together again and again, his soul moving automatically to take his soul's shape seamlessly. And each time, he refined his form just a little more.
Toji lunged, his remaining hand locking around Mahito's throat, slamming him through the asphalt.
The ground cratered under the force, dust filling the air.
Mahito laughed even as his neck snapped, his head twisting at an impossible angle before his mouth opened up.
His tongue immediately turned into a bony blade as it expanded towards Toji, who grabbed it, snapped it and stabbed it right back into Mahito's eye in one swift motion.
"You really are a monster," Mahito laughed as he spoke, voice bubbling with glee.
He slipped out of Toji's grip, reshaping his torso to slither free like liquid. His entire body elongated, snapping back with a whip-crack that sent Toji skidding across the rubble.
Mahito straightened, dusting himself off as though they weren't in the middle of carnage.
"Well, that's to be expected~" he mused aloud as he watched Toji rise again. The Special Grade sighed as he removed the piece of bone stuck in his eye. "You're the only one up to this point who can claim to have made a god bleed..."
Toji charged again, faster than before. Mahito welcomed him, hands spreading wide, his form shifting in preparation for the next exchange.
"Time to end this~" Mahito had other plans after all. Getting to meet and battle Toji was just a bonus.
Still, the reanimated sorcerer was motivated to leave a mark, as his fist struck right at Mahito's torso, caving it inwards and crushing a few of the transfigured soldiers that he carried in case of emergencies.
Mahito scowled a bit when feeling his hard work dying, but he would not let them go unused; he immediately absorbed the dying souls into his, his body twisting and bulking up in strength.
Toji's eyes seemed to almost widen as Mahito's hamer-like fist plunged into his face at a greater speed than before, his head snapped backwards, and some blood flowed from his nose.
He kicked upwards, snapping Mahito's reinforced chin upwards and forcing him to gaze at the night sky.
But before he could do something further, the dead man felt Mahito's hand touch his chest harmlessly.
Alas, it didn't instantly go as Mahito expected. Toji didn't explode in a gory display. No, his Heavenly Restriction allowed him to somewhat resist Mahito's soul manipulation.
It gave Toji enough time to axe kick Mahito face-first into the road. Alas, that was all he managed, as Mahito's broken form grabbed a hold of his ankle and immediately caused his body to burst.
Guts and blood showered over the cracked street and pavement nearby, signalling a rather grotesque end to their encounter.
After all, the body was not Toji's to begin with.
Mahito was able to feel the soul of the man who had tried to use the Sorcerer Killer's power. It was ultimately his soul that Mahito could effortlessly destroy.
And within the Seance Technique, the grandson's soul acted as a sort of anchor to Toji's. It was a rather interesting connection between the two. One that Mahito made a mental note of.
Mahito's smile was radiant as he stood up, feeling a rather hard-to-explain high even as he spat out broken teeth and pieces of asphalt.
No matter how fast, how strong, how terrifying a reanimated Toji was, he lacked one thing.
The one thing Mahito possessed in abundance, and the one thing his arsenal of cursed tools would have provided in the past.
Adaptability. And that was exactly what Mahito strived to gain even more of. After all, only through adaptability could Mahito grow further than the peak.
"This was a learning experience. Maki should be able to resist my technique, I will have to experiment~" he whispered, eyes alight. There was nothing better than discovering ways he could further improve his power.
"Let's see how the others are faring ~"