The mountain air was sharp, carrying the faint scent of pine and blood. Toji sat on a boulder at the cliff's edge, the Split Soul Katana resting lazily across his shoulder. His gaze wandered over the moonlit forest, though his mind was elsewhere.
The whispers of farmers, the gossip of Slayers, the dying scent of Mukagoji's ashes — all of it pointed to the same conclusion. He was drawing attention. And he welcomed it.
For Toji Fushiguro, there was no clan here to bind him, no jujutsu world to spit on him, no cage of cursed energy to suffocate him. Only a new battlefield.
Those who inherited the curse of the Zen'in Family…
The ones shackled by duty, by blood, by tradition…
They would never know this feeling.
The bare flesh of the one who was free.
A predator that chose when to reveal his fangs.
Toji's lips curved into a cold, amused smile.
"…So. You're here."
He didn't need to see him yet. The air itself trembled with the weight of a monster approaching. Footsteps echoed faintly, then vanished. A presence sharp as a blade drew closer, killing intent heavy enough to suffocate weaker men.
Akaza.
The Upper Rank demon landed on the cliff opposite Toji, his tattoos glowing faintly in the moonlight. His eyes narrowed, studying the man before him. No uniform. No markings. Just a katana and a body that radiated stillness — not fear, not hesitation.
"You're no Hashira," Akaza said, his voice deep, edged with curiosity. "And yet you killed one of us. What are you?"
Toji stood, rolling his shoulders as if waking from a nap. His expression was unreadable, but the grin tugging at his lips hinted at mischief.
"What am I?" he echoed, tilting his head. "I'm just a guy who cuts down what's in front of him. Simple as that."
Akaza's fists clenched. His instincts screamed that this man was dangerous — not because of an aura, not because of any technique. But because of the sheer weight of his presence. A man without hesitation. A man who had abandoned all bindings.
Toji drew the Split Soul Katana in one fluid motion, the blade catching the moonlight.
"You came looking for me," he said, voice calm, almost lazy. "Good. I was getting bored."
Akaza smirked, excitement sparking in his crimson eyes.
"Muzan-sama was right… you're interesting. Let's see how strong you really are!"
And with a roar, the Upper Rank lunged forward, fists crashing down like thunder.
Toji's grin widened, and he moved — faster than the eye could follow, katana flashing. His body flowed with inhuman precision, no wasted motion, no breath techniques to guide him. Just raw instinct, refined skill, and overwhelming power.
The cliff shook with the first clash of fist and blade.