"Cursed Spirit Manipulation…"
"This is a fine body. No wonder you set your sights on it."
Setting down his teacup, Mirai slowly stood up and placed one hand on the coffin lid.
"Before Yuta Okkotsu appeared, in this vast jujutsu world, there were only three Special Grade sorcerers."
He paused, then smiled.
"Oh right… perhaps you should count me in as well."
"But the easiest target…" he continued lightly,
"…was none other than Suguru Geto."
Seeing the shadow that flickered across Kenjaku's face, Mirai chuckled.
"Is arrogance among sorcerers… some kind of common flaw?"
"When it comes to non-sorcerers—monkeys—you really don't take them seriously at all."
Turning back, Mirai sat down on the sofa again.
"You've lived for a thousand years, after all."
"Relying on residual cursed energy to track and monitor people…"
"You'd better change that habit. Otherwise, one day it might cost you dearly."
"After a thousand years, the monkeys' technology is nothing to scoff at."
"I see," Kenjaku replied, lifting his teacup and nodding.
"So besides sorcerers on the surface, there are non-sorcerers monitoring things behind the scenes."
"With disguised surveillance equipment… no wonder it's hard to detect."
"The Zen'in clan's Kukuru Unit, huh…"
Seeing that Mirai didn't deny it, Kenjaku lowered his head, a faint, chilling smile appearing.
"Well played. You really got the better of me."
During the time he had taken on Yuji Itadori's mother's body, Kenjaku had secretly observed Geto from afar.
That faint sense of being watched he had felt back then—
it must have come from the Zen'in clan's non-sorcerer armed unit.
No wonder this man had used Geto to set up such a perfect trap.
Kenjaku suddenly plunged his fingers directly into the scalding tea and stirred, his hoarse voice low.
"So, old friend… this little performance of yours—"
He cut off abruptly.
Cursed energy exploded in an instant.
Boom!!
Dust and smoke surged as the sofa in front of him was reduced to splinters.
A bottomless crater now gaped before them, exuding endless darkness.
The ground trembled continuously. Pebbles bounced at his feet. From deep within the pit came dull, thunderous reverberations.
Kenjaku's cursed energy swelled violently.
Dense cursed energy transformed into a surging tide of black water, pouring downward into the abyss with overwhelming weight.
Separated by two layers of barriers—
The deafening explosion and the utterly unfamiliar surge of cursed energy reached the outside.
Sand and stone shook loose from the ceiling.
On the second underground level, Naobito Zen'in and Jinichi Zen'in exchanged silent glances.
Nearby, the craftsman working on cursed tools suddenly froze mid-swing.
Haruta Shigemo, who had been cutting down a cursed spirit, accidentally destroyed its core, causing it to crumble into ash.
Creak…
A wooden door slowly opened a crack.
"As for non-sorcerers," Kenjaku said calmly, rising to his feet and looking down into the crater,
"I truly never paid them any mind."
"But sorcerers… especially a Special Grade like you—"
"How could I possibly come here without knowing anything?"
Information from the Kamo clan. Intelligence provided by the higher-ups of Jujutsu High.
Zen'in Mirai—
A prodigy who first revealed himself to the world at the age of eleven.
Confirmed by Shoko Ieiri, and internally classified by the school as… Special Grade.
Kenjaku had his own informants and unique sources of intelligence.
Ten Shadows Technique. Spatial techniques. An unknown Special Grade cursed spirit…
There is no such thing as a perfect cursed technique in this world.
Every technique has its weaknesses—only a matter of scale.
Take Mirai's intangibility, for example.
Based on what he showed during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, Kenjaku reached a conclusion.
His source: a Kamo clan sorcerer who witnessed it firsthand in Shinjuku.
While stepping on a high-altitude shikigami, Mirai's upper body remained unaffected by the wind—
but his pant legs clearly moved.
Intangibility—enough to ignore any physical attack.
But its flaw: it does not cover his entire body at all times.
While walking. While moving. Even when lifting a teacup earlier…
Those were all fleeting openings.
As long as one seized the moment and unleashed a full-body attack, the intangibility could be broken.
Kenjaku stepped around the crater and walked toward the coffin.
As for Mirai's intentions—he had little interest.
Once someone is dead, intentions no longer matter.
That earlier strike—gravity technique combined with a full-force black tide—
If taken head-on, even a Special Grade—
(with the exception of Gojo Satoru)—
would be reduced to nothing but a pile of flesh.
Kenjaku reached out and lifted the coffin lid, the malice in his smile deepening.
"So impatient?"
A teasing voice echoed from the depths of the crater.
Then—
Like a volcanic eruption, terrifying cursed energy shot skyward.
Countless withered branches burst forth like a reversed starfall.
Boom! Boom!
Kenjaku's expression twisted in shock as his gravity technique strained against the overwhelming force rising from below.
A throne formed of twisted branches slowly rose from the collapsed ground.
Mirai leaned against it, resting his head on one hand, crimson light flickering in his eyes.
"Well, since you're already planning to switch bodies," he said lazily,
"taking a little damage now shouldn't matter, right?"
"Technique Extension—Tremor."
Like ripples spreading across a lake, invisible waves distorted space and surged toward Kenjaku.
In that instant, Kenjaku's face changed drastically.
"Wait—"
Before he could finish—
His expression contorted violently.
His lower body—legs, muscles, veins, bones, even blood—let out a silent scream.
Bang!!
His legs exploded into a mist of blood.
With nothing to support him, Kenjaku collapsed forward into the pool of crimson.
Like a condemned minister bowing before execution in a royal court—
Mirai looked down.
Kenjaku knelt in submission.
"You really can't be underestimated, Kenjaku," Mirai said expressionlessly.
"If not for these eyes of mine, you might've actually gotten me."
"Couldn't you just negotiate properly?"
"This was supposed to be a gift for you. Why go through all this trouble?"
His tone carried a hint of regret, as if genuinely lamenting Kenjaku's state.
Those who can use Reverse Cursed Technique aren't necessarily top-tier.
But top-tier sorcerers can all use Reverse Cursed Technique.
In the flickering candlelight, Kenjaku's shadowed face was reflected.
Fragments of flesh and bone reconnected, visibly regenerating.
With no clothing to cover him, his long legs—still streaked with blood—reformed, strangely alluring.
That is, if one ignored the dark, stormy expression on his face.
"Speak," Kenjaku said coldly.
"Your terms."
Despite inhabiting a female body, he paid no attention to Mirai's gaze.
"Much better," Mirai said with a smile.
Branches extended from his spatial domain, deftly arranging two brand-new sofas beneath the pavilion.
He even thoughtfully provided Kenjaku with a pair of men's casual trousers.
Kenjaku didn't care about being half-naked—but Mirai still had some sense of propriety.
Above the bottomless pit, the two sat facing each other once more.
"Now then…" Mirai began, eyes gleaming slightly.
"Let's renegotiate the purchase of Suguru Geto's corpse."
Kenjaku brushed his hair back, his voice as cold as ice.
"Name your price."