2:00 a.m. — the dead of night.
Instead of returning to the Kyoto campus after the mission, Geto Suguru slipped into a dim back-alley izakaya.
His real objective sat disguised as a novelty wooden badge on the counter, its painted eyes and mouth twitching with life.
"Sorry to drag you out at this hour."
The voice belonged to the puppet — a relay unit for Muta Kokichi's [Puppet Manipulation] Cursed Technique. The world knew him better as "Mechamaru," though no one called him by that nickname anymore.
Todo Aoi, Nishimiya Momo, Kamo Noritoshi — upper-classmen now first-years at Kyoto Jujutsu High — weren't exactly the affectionate type.
"No trouble," Geto replied, raising a glass that looked like sake but held only water. "How's the new body treating you?"
"Still hurts, but the pain's finally dull enough to ignore. The higher-ups loosened my leash once they moved me to Kyoto, figured I was on their side."
Geto snorted. "They'd never plant a spy in Tokyo — too many allies of mine, plus Gojo Satoru, that mysterious white-haired kid, and a bunch of Servants running around."
Muta exhaled a dry laugh. Even breathing hard no longer stabbed him with agony — a small miracle for someone who'd never known a day without pain.
The bar itself was a front; the owner was currently enthralled by Shuten-douji's charm command: Don't listen. Don't remember.
With no other customers, the two conspirators could talk freely.
"Mahito's harder to track than I thought," Geto admitted. "Either he's holed up where crowds are thin, or he's moving underground."
"He once ambushed someone through an airport urinal drain, remember? The bastard plays filthy."
Geto grimaced at the memory. "I was there. Humiliating doesn't begin to cover it."
"At least we smacked him hard enough that he won't try that trick on sorcerers again," Muta said. "According to our source, he can't one-shot anyone above Grade 1."
"Trust the intel, but keep your guard up," Geto warned. "Mahito showed up earlier than predicted, which means his growth diverged from the original timeline."
Muta nodded. "I saw him once before I transferred. He was exactly how you described."
"He'll try to recruit you," Geto said. "If you can wring a mutual non-aggression [Binding Vow] out of him, all the better. We'll handle the exorcism."
Geto let silence stretch while he drained half the water pitcher. "Your main job is gathering proof of the higher-ups' corruption — recordings, documents, physical evidence, anything. Hand that over and we'll give 'that person' a clean, legitimate pretext for execution."
Muta managed a crooked smile. "Blackmail to keep Kadok's hands clean. Got it."
In the jujutsu world, ambush killings were business as usual; still, Kadok preferred striking only when the enemy made the first overt move.
"We watch, we wait, then hit them the moment they go on the offensive," Geto summarized.
"I'm combing every contact I have, but curses are good at hiding their nests," Muta sighed.
"Stay alive, avoid needless risk," Geto said — words Muta never thought he'd hear from a man like Geto.
Warmth swelled in Muta's chest. A life under open sky felt almost possible now. He only had to keep the intel pipeline flowing.
"That's enough for tonight," Geto said, popping the complimentary bowl of edamame into his mouth. "Get some rest. I'm heading back to campus."
"I'll call when I have something," Muta answered, cutting the connection.
Autumn had finally driven off the brutal summer heat. The team spent the season criss-crossing Japan, half road trip, half curse-cleansing tour. No sign of Mahito or any other Special Grades worth grinding, but the trip hadn't been a total loss — Maki and Mai Zenin had tagged along, skipping class under a carousel of forged excuses: hospitalizations, imaginary relatives, you name it.
Now, back home, Mai sat cross-legged in my room, eyes shut, cursed energy leaking off her like soft vapor. Today's agenda: generation and control drills.
Minamoto-no-Raikō knelt opposite her, acting as instructor. As a seasoned warrior and mentor, Raikō was perfect for the role, while Ushi-gozen sparred with Maki on the rooftop — moving the Heavenly Restriction prodigy into advanced sensory training.
"That's enough control work for now," Raikō announced.
Mai opened her eyes; the cursed energy film dissolved into nothing. "You're improving every day," Raikō praised.
Mai bowed shyly. "Thank you."
"How's your [Construction Technique] coming along? That part's on you alone."
"I'm experimenting," Mai answered. "It's tricky."
The Technique forged physical objects; in Fate terms, it was basically Projection Magecraft. In canon she could fabricate a single revolver round per day. Now, with her expanded reserves, she could crank out far more.
"Good. But remember: reduce waste like Gojo Satoru does," Raikō said.
Mai's pupils trembled. Without Six Eyes, Gojo-level efficiency sounded impossible, though Sukuna proved it could be done even blind.
"Aim high," Raikō insisted. "Increase total output while trimming excess — both matter."
She tempered the strict lecture with a motherly smile, then pulled Mai into a hug.
"Mmph…!" Mai was smothered in Raikō's impressive chest, too polite to wriggle free.
After a long moment Raikō let go and asked, "Can you now supply bullets for the gun Koyanskaya provided?"
"Yes, that much is no problem."
"Then we should add live-fire drills. Master, may I take her to the range?"
I glanced at Mai. Her pleading eyes screamed rescue me.
"Mai needs rest days too," I decided. "Let's take it slow."
Raikō nodded, and Mai's shoulders sagged in relief.
"We'll head out then. Thank you for the room," Raikō said.
"Sorry, Onii-chan. Get some sleep," Mai added.
"It's fine," I said, waving them off. The moment they left, I flopped onto the bed — or tried to. Bzzz. My phone rattled against the headboard.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"Evening, big bro," Zenin Naoya greeted, voice unusually subdued.
"Something wrong?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Your tone. You hurt? Casualties?"
"Nothing like that. I think I've located a Special Grade Curse. Wanted to call before engaging."
"You sure it's Special Grade? Description?"
"Just one signature, no backup. Thought you'd want to know before I pounce. Can't trust the higher-ups with coordinates, right?"
Calm, confident — not cocky. Typical Naoya.
"Need me there?"
"Too far, and the drive would be murder on you. I've got a few sorcerers for support. Don't worry."
"Then stay sharp."
"Roger. I'll text the map. New phones upload pics like magic these days."
He hung up and pinged his location — deep in Aomori Prefecture.
He'll handle it, I told myself, finally sinking into bed, curious which Special Grade he'd stumbled on.
…
Mountain interior, Aomori.
Naoya faced the curse in a deserted ravine, three Grade 2 sorcerers at his back — competent enough to guard themselves or, in a pinch, serve as shields.
"How did you find this place?"
The question rolled out of a small, elderly man with a volcanic skull — the Special Grade Jogo.
Naoya twisted a smile. "Hiking's my hobby. I catch the stink of curses all the time."
So it really is Jogo, Naoya noted, remembering Kadok's briefing. No need to show my hand.
"Fool. You should have run while you still could," Jogo sneered, cursed energy flaring as flames geysered from his head.
Naoya scoffed. "Big words for a glorified fire–lizard. Got a hole in your head but nothing in it."
Provocation — deliberate, calculated.
"You insolent whelp!" Jogo roared, instincts overriding whatever veneer of intellect he possessed.
Dense cursed energy, fire-based projectile type, not a constant cloak — Naoya computed the variables in a heartbeat. Good. I can touch him.
He armored his body with cursed energy and activated [Projection Sorcery].
Twelve hand signs, twenty-four frames per second — after-images only Naoya could see. He sprinted through them, chaining sequences to stack velocity.
Faster. Ever faster. Faster than Dagon claimed Naobito Zenin had been in Shibuya — which meant faster than Jogo.
To Jogo's eyes, Naoya blurred, then vanished.
Tap. A phantom finger flicked Jogo's ribcage.
Hook, line, and sinker — the curse had stepped right into [Projection Sorcery]'s frame trap.
========================
The website for reading paid chapters is available on my Patreon. The number of chapters on Patreon: 87
Link: patreon.com/UltraMagnus_T