I watched intently as something emerged from the house.
They looked like white mannequins.
There were fifteen of them.
They didn't just move; they sprinted.
And they were coming straight for us.
"Cursed Corpses," Toji muttered, eyeing the mannequins.
Cursed Corpses—dolls imbued with a curse. Autonomous, inanimate objects. In the context of the Nasuverse, they were somewhere between a Golem and an Automata.
Standard Cursed Corpses were merely tools that followed their creator's orders. Even if they were autonomous, they lacked free will. Of course, there were exceptions—corpses capable of independent thought, like Panda.
"Now that I see them in person, they're similar to Automata, yet fundamentally different," the Assassin and Foreigner whispered, looking down from the roof.
I agreed. These were more grotesque, visible even to the average person, and carried a texture different from standard magecraft.
"I'll take care of this. I was starting to feel like a parasite just acting as a tour guide," Toji said, letting out a wide, languid yawn.
Suddenly, the spirit he used for storage slithered out from his mouth—the worm-like Cursed Spirit. It unhinged its maw and vomited a weapon into his hand.
It wasn't the Soul-Liberation Blade, just a plain, unremarkable katana. Toji gripped the hilt and leaped.
He moved as if he were teleporting, reaching the ground floor in a single heartbeat.
The mannequin-like corpses rattled and swarmed him the moment he landed.
"Good," Toji's voice echoed faintly.
A second later, his form vanished into a blur, and the Cursed Corpses began to be dismantled. They were carved up horizontally, sliced vertically, and torn apart. Toji swung the blade with clinical precision, occasionally reaching out to rip limbs from torsos with his bare hands.
Crunch!
The sickening sound of shattering material, like bone being crushed, drifted up to the third floor.
"It's over. Want me to clean up the mess?" Toji asked, leaping off the exterior wall and landing effortlessly beside me.
It had taken barely ten seconds to completely pulverize them. It was less of a fight and more of a slaughter.
"Foreigner, handle the cleanup."
"As you wish, Master."
Koyanskaya of Darkness—the Foreigner—jumped down immediately. In situations like this, her toolkit was far more efficient.
'That wraps it up.'
It was high noon. There was no gunfire, and the streets were deserted. Taking advantage of the solitude, the Foreigner didn't hold back in utilizing her Magical Beasts. She commanded her shadow wolves to pile the wreckage in one spot before incinerating the heap with the hellish flames of Cerberus.
"Let's head down."
"Yes, Master."
"Understood."
I descended while held in the arms of the Assassin, Koyanskaya of Light. The sensation of floating and then sinking, combined with the sharp whip of the wind, was exhilarating. Toji landed right behind us, stowing the sword back into the mouth of the worm spirit coiled around his body.
"Toji-san."
"Yeah. I'll take photos of the corpse and send them to the client. Though, the target's head is a bit... gone, so that might be an issue."
"Ah..." I sighed involuntarily and looked at the Assassin.
"Oops. My bad." She winked at me, playfully sticking out her tongue. I decided to let it slide—she was far too charming to stay mad at.
"...Toji, please check inside the house for an ID or something similar. We can take a photo of that alongside the body."
"That's probably our only hope. I'll check." Toji sighed and moved toward the house. If the door was locked, he would simply tear it off its hinges.
"We'll wait here." I leaned against the outer wall and yawned. Searching the house shouldn't take long.
"I'm back. I handled it the way the Boss suggested. The reward should be in by tomorrow," Toji said, reappearing. He had only been gone for about five minutes.
"Good work. And the body?"
"It's cold enough that it won't rot immediately. The client said they'd send someone tomorrow. They want to see it for themselves."
"Because of the deep grudge?"
"Exactly. They'll probably kick and beat the corpse once they get here."
I straightened my posture as we chatted. It was time to head back to the hotel and sleep. A phrase from an old infantile regression meme crossed my mind, but I pushed it aside.
"Master."
Just as I took a step forward, both Koyanskayas called out, their ears perking up in unison. Toji, who had just put his sword away, pulled it out again. He was relaxed, yet his posture radiated an undeniable sense of alertness. The reason became apparent when I looked at the sky. A black dome, obscuring the glittering stars, was descending upon us.
A Curtain.
While rogue Curse Users sometimes used them, this specific weight was the trademark of a professional sorcerer.
"Toji. I thought you said there weren't any sorcerers around?"
"There weren't. Until now." Toji gave a strained laugh as he raised his blade. Unbelievable.
"Seriously?"
"Hey, I'm just as baffled as you. Why would a sorcerer show up in a backwater town that doesn't even have Cursed Spirits?"
"Was that Curse User really that famous?"
"He killed thirty people over ten years. That's an average of three a year—not high enough to justify the authorities sending a professional."
The way he phrased it was a bit... crude, but his logic held up. Three kills a year was beneath the usual notice of Jujutsu High. So, why was someone here? The answer approached us in the form of a man emerging from the shadows.
"Are you lot Curse Users?"
A beard, sunglasses, and a burly, muscular physique. Seeing him in the flesh triggered a vivid memory from my past life. He was a recurring character from *Jujutsu Kaisen*.
"Yaga Masamichi?"
"Hmm? You know me? But... a child? Why is there a child here?" The man—Yaga Masamichi—furrowed his brow. I was right.
"What? You know him?" Toji asked, tilting his head with a look of curious confusion.
"I know the name. He's a sorcerer famous for his work with Cursed Corpses," I lied smoothly. It was a believable excuse given Yaga's reputation.
"Given that you know that much... you must indeed be Curse Users. Does that apply to the man and the two women as well?" Yaga's voice dropped an octave. He was tense.
"We might be considered Curse Users, but we have no intention of killing you. We don't even want to fight," I said, stepping three paces forward. I was signaling that I was the one in charge.
"You have no intention to kill? That sounds like you're saying you could kill me whenever you please... Am I understanding that correctly?"
"Yes."
"You have a massive amount of confidence."
"It's not confidence; it's a fact. And for the record, it's not me who's strong—it's these three." I shoved my hands in my pockets and sighed, trying to show I had no desire for a conflict. How would he take it?
'Come on, say something.'
In the original story, Yaga Masamichi's screen time was limited, but he was established as a fundamentally good teacher. That was why I couldn't kill him. More accurately, I didn't *want* to kill him.
"Ugh..." Yaga let out a low groan. Despite the noise, he was clearly under immense pressure; beads of sweat began to roll down his face. I looked behind me and saw why. Both Koyanskayas were smiling like predatory beasts, exerting a suffocating aura. Toji just watched me with an amused, effortless grin, knowing the 'Double Koyanskayas' could handle whatever came next.
'Maybe I should dial it back?'
I looked back at Yaga. "Both of you, stop."
I ordered the Koyanskayas to suppress the overwhelming pressure. We needed a conversation, not a massacre.
"Yes, Master."
The crushing atmosphere vanished instantly. Only then did the color return to Yaga's face.
"It's more than just an 'atmosphere.' Do I need to prove it further?"
"No. That's enough." Yaga shook his head, his brow still furrowed. Fortunately, he was the type you could talk to. I wasn't ready to deal with the Jujutsu organizations yet, but I saw a potential opportunity here. He was someone I recognized and someone fundamentally trustworthy. Had it been a sorcerer I didn't know, things would have gotten messy.
"Then, let me ask first. Why are you here?"
"I heard there was a Curse User who manipulated Cursed Corpses in the area. I came to deal with him during my time off."
"I see. Well, that Curse User is dead. His corpses have been burned to ash."
"So it seems." Yaga let out a hollow sigh of frustration, his guard finally dropping slightly.
"Now, it's my turn to ask. Those women behind you... are they truly human?"
"No. But they aren't Cursed Spirits either. You can feel it, can't you?"
Yaga was a Grade 1 Sorcerer, effectively at the peak of the system. He knew exactly what a Cursed Spirit felt like, but his eyes remained filled with suspicion.
"Truly not spirits? Then what are they?"
"That's a secret."
"God damn it." Yaga muttered his usual catchphrase. Hearing it in person was a surreal experience.
"In any case, I don't want to kill you. Just agree to one Binding Vow and you can go."
"A Binding Vow?"
"A vow that you will not mention us to anyone outside of the people present here today."
"You're going to let me go as long as I keep my mouth shut?"
"Yes. Did you think I was lying when I said I didn't want to be your enemy?" I tilted my head, and Yaga sighed again. It seemed his expectations of 'Curse Users' had been completely subverted.
"If those are the only conditions... very well. I will enter the vow."
"Wise choice."
"Sorcerers die easily. But there's no reason to throw my life away for nothing against someone who's being civil."
True enough. There was no counterargument to that. Yaga immediately entered the Binding Vow according to my terms and dispelled the Curtain. The dark night sky returned.
"By the way, what about the Curse User?"
"Since I was here on my own time and not an official mission, I'll just bury the matter. It won't be an issue."
"Perfect. In that case, give me your phone number."
"My number? You want us to stay in touch? A Curse User and a Sorcerer?" Yaga asked, bristling like a hedgehog sensing danger.
"You're a sorcerer, which means you have access to a lot of information on Cursed Spirits. I'd like to know where the big ones are."
"You... intend to hunt Cursed Spirits?" Yaga's eyes went wide. This was clearly something he hadn't anticipated.
"Yes."
"If you're going to hunt them, you might as well join the Sorcerer— No. I don't know if you're actually a child or not, but I shouldn't have suggested that. I apologize." Yaga cut himself off. The world of jujutsu was a hellhole. His reluctance to drag a child into it warmed my heart slightly.
"I'm not interested in becoming an official sorcerer. Your organization is far too corrupt, and I value my comfort too much."
"Fair point. I'll leave you my number. And yours?"
"Toji-san."
At my call, Toji stepped forward from behind me, his face a mask of annoyance.
"Can't be helped. Boss, don't you think it's time you got a phone of your own?"
"Once our system is a bit more organized."
"Fine." Toji walked up to Yaga and pulled out his phone. "Hey. Get yours out."
"Right."
The sight of two grown men standing face-to-face exchanging numbers was both bizarrely comical and strangely wholesome.
"We're done here. But you, your Cursed Energy...?"
"Me? Just ignore it. You're probably hallucinating." Toji cut him off bluntly and walked back. Better than letting the conversation drag on.
"Well, we'll be taking our leave now. Get home safe, Yaga-san."
"...Yeah. Thanks."
I waved with a smile, while Yaga looked utterly bewildered as we parted ways. It ended well, so I was satisfied.
"Why do I feel like my phone number is being sold to every stranger on the street?" Toji muttered dejectedly as we walked back to the hotel.
"Because you're the one who has a phone, Toji-san."
"Tch. Can't argue with that."
"It hasn't been too inconvenient yet, so bear with me a little longer." To have no smartphone made a cellular device feel less essential to me, though I knew I needed to buy one eventually for convenience's sake.
Vrrrrm.
As if on cue, the pocket of Toji's pants vibrated.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue and fished the phone out. Looks like a call.
"Who is it?"
"It's that brat from the Zenin clan we met recently."
Brat from the Zenin? That had to be Zenin Naoya.
'He really did warm up to him.'
Given Toji's personality, he usually would have called a kid like that a 'shit-head' or something worse. 'Brat' was practically a term of endearment.
"Hello?" Click. Toji opened the flip phone with an indifferent expression.
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