Chapter 137: Infiltrating the Fushiguro Home
Tokyo's night hung over the city like a heavy black curtain.
Neon lights fought through the haze, their colors smeared across glass windows and wet pavement. The air was thick, tense, and suffocating, like the entire city was waiting for a storm to break.
Yami moved through that darkness like a phantom.
His figure crossed rooftops and alleyways at terrifying speed, weaving through the maze of buildings without slowing. The night wind screamed past his ears, whipping his short black hair back from his face.
Yet his heart was colder than the wind.
That home.
Toji Fushiguro's final whisper lingered in his mind like a poisoned needle.
Yami knew that a beast as cunning as Toji would never leave behind meaningless words. After their negotiation at the underground horse racing track collapsed, Toji had made no attempt to hide his intent to kill the Star Plasma Vessel.
As the one variable capable of threatening him, Yami knew he needed something that could truly restrain the assassin before Toji made his move.
Megumi Fushiguro.
A child who carried the talent of the Zenin Clan's Ten Shadows Technique, yet had been treated like a commodity by his own father.
He was the only person in this world who still shared a blood tie with Toji Fushiguro.
Toji had said he did not care.
He had laughed, claimed that selling his son meant nothing, and acted as though blood itself was cheap.
But Yami had seen it.
That half second of stiffness when Megumi's name left his mouth.
It was small. Almost impossible to notice.
But it existed.
Toji was not as flawless as he pretended to be.
If Yami could reach Megumi first, or set a trap near the Fushiguro home, he might be able to disrupt Toji's rhythm and buy precious time for Satoru Gojo and the others.
"I have to get ahead of him."
Yami took a deep breath and pushed his Breathing Technique to its limit.
Ten minutes later, he arrived at the edge of the city.
The apartment building before him was exactly as he remembered from the information in his mind. Old, dirty, and half-forgotten by the rest of Tokyo.
The hallway reeked of mold and urine. The walls were covered in messy graffiti, and the rusted security door hung half-open, creaking faintly whenever the wind passed through.
Yami slipped inside without hesitation.
The apartment was worse than he expected.
Empty beer cans littered the floor. Moldy fast-food boxes were piled near the wall. The air carried the stale smell of decay, smoke, and long neglect.
This did not feel like a home.
It felt like a place where a wounded beast had once stopped to sleep, then left behind everything it did not care enough to throw away.
Yami frowned and swept his gaze through the dark room.
Then he stopped.
On a worn sofa in the corner of the living room sat a small, thin figure.
A boy of about four or five years old.
His clothes were old and clearly did not fit. His black hair stuck up in messy spikes, making him look like a little hedgehog. In the dim light leaking through the window, Yami could see his face clearly.
There was a strong resemblance to Toji Fushiguro.
Especially the eyes.
Deep, cold, and far too guarded for a child his age.
Megumi Fushiguro.
The future heir of the Ten Shadows Technique, the boy who would one day become a central figure in the Jujutsu World, was sitting alone in this filthy room like something abandoned in a corner.
When he heard the door open, Megumi did not scream.
He did not cry.
He simply lifted his head and looked at Yami with unnerving calm.
"Are you here to collect a debt?"
His voice was hoarse, but steady.
"If you are, you came to the wrong place. That man hasn't been back in a long time."
His eyes did not move.
"And there's nothing valuable here."
Yami looked at the child in silence.
Something complicated rose in his chest.
Was this the surprise Toji had left for him?
His own flesh and blood, abandoned in a rotting apartment, forced to survive in silence.
Yami walked slowly toward the sofa and stopped in front of Megumi.
A thought flashed through his mind.
It was ugly.
Cruel.
Despicable.
If he used this child's life to threaten Toji, could he force the Sorcerer Killer to abandon the mission?
Could he prevent Riko's death?
Could he keep Gojo from being stabbed through the throat?
Could he stop Geto from falling into despair?
Riko's innocent smile.
Gojo's careless arrogance hiding his exhaustion.
Geto's gentle, uncertain gaze.
To protect them.
To change a predetermined tragedy.
Yami's eyes wavered.
He slowly reached toward Megumi's shoulder.
Megumi did not dodge.
He only watched Yami's hand come closer with dead, numb eyes.
There was no fear in them.
Only resignation.
Yami stopped.
His fingers froze just before touching the boy.
Looking into Megumi's stagnant eyes, Yami saw a shadow of himself, once buried in darkness and struggling to survive.
No.
The thought shattered inside him.
If saving one innocent person required harming another innocent child, then what was the point of everything he had done?
Yami slowly lowered his hand.
The coldness in his eyes cleared.
He took out a thick stack of yen from his pocket. It was the money he had prepared earlier for his negotiation with Toji.
He placed it gently on the coffee table in front of Megumi.
Then he pulled out a note and prepared to write a warning for Toji, one final attempt to restrain him.
"That man…"
Yami looked at Megumi, and his voice softened.
"If he comes back, give this to him."
Megumi looked at the money.
Then at the note.
For the first time, a flicker of confusion appeared in those cold eyes.
He did not understand.
This stranger had broken into his home, but he had not hit him. He had not yelled at him. He had not demanded payment.
Instead, he had left him money.
Yami turned to leave.
Then the world changed.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A piercing mechanical alarm exploded inside his mind.
[Warning! Warning!]
[Critical plot character's vital signs are dropping rapidly!]
[Warning! Star Plasma Vessel protection mission is about to be judged a failure!]
A red warning panel filled Yami's vision, the text scrolling across his retina like a waterfall of blood.
His heart clenched.
"What?"
His pupils shrank to pinpoints.
A chill shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, freezing the blood in his veins.
A critical character was dying?
The mission was about to fail?
How was that possible?
Gojo and Geto should have been escorting Riko back to Jujutsu High by now. With Gojo's Limitless active and Geto's Cursed Spirit Manipulation providing support, even Toji should not have been able to break through their defense so quickly without making a sound.
Unless...
A terrifying thought tore through Yami's mind like lightning.
His gaze snapped toward the small, lonely figure on the sofa.
Megumi Fushiguro.
The clue Toji had left behind.
That deliberate flaw.
That half second of stiffness.
Boom!
Yami felt as if a hammer had slammed into his skull.
He finally understood.
"Draw the tiger away from the mountain…"
The words came out between his teeth, trembling with rage and regret.
Toji did not care about this home.
He did not care whether Megumi lived or died.
That ambiguous hint, that tiny reaction to Megumi's name, all of it had been bait.
Acting.
A trap built perfectly around Yami's own weakness.
Toji had seen through him.
He had understood that Yami wanted to control everything. Protect everyone. Correct every tragedy before it happened.
So after the negotiation failed, Toji threw out a clue that Yami could not ignore.
His own son.
A flaw that looked real enough to drag Yami away.
And Yami had taken the bait.
The most troublesome variable had been lured all the way to this ruined apartment on the edge of Tokyo.
"Bastard!"
Yami's roar tore through the room like a wounded beast's.
He had been played.
That man without Cursed Energy had read him, manipulated him, and made him waste the most critical moment.
Since arriving in this era, this was the first calculation that had truly cut him to the bone.
He had thought that knowing the future gave him control.
He had underestimated the Sorcerer Killer, a man who had survived for decades in the cruelty of the Jujutsu World and refined assassination into an art.
Yami did not hesitate again.
"Total Concentration."
His breathing changed violently.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form."
Power erupted from his body like a storm.
"Thunderclap and Flash, Godspeed!"
Lightning tore through the apartment.
The walls cracked. The room lit up like daylight. Megumi's eyes widened slightly as the black-haired man vanished in a blast of thunder and wind.
Yami became a bolt of lightning ripping through the night, racing toward Jujutsu High at a speed that bordered on self-destruction.
The gale cut across his face like blades.
His heart pounded so violently it felt ready to burst.
"Faster."
He forced his body beyond its limit.
"Faster!"
Gojo.
Geto.
Riko.
Hold on.
You have to hold on.
Blood rushed into Yami's eyes until the world was stained crimson. The mark on his forehead flickered into existence, burning with frightening heat.
He pushed his speed further, tearing through the air and leaving a long vacuum trail behind him.
But the distance was too great.
The Fushiguro home was located at the city's edge, far from Jujutsu High, which was hidden deep in the mountains.
Even at a speed that surpassed sound, he still needed time.
And in that time, Toji Fushiguro could turn Jujutsu High into a slaughterhouse.
The night sky stretched endlessly above him, cold and merciless.
While Yami had been trapped by Toji's bait and dragged away from the true battlefield, the tragedy inside Jujutsu High's barrier had already begun to unfold.
The bloody massacre that once changed the fate of the Jujutsu World had raised its curtain again.
Could he still make it in time?
The answer, perhaps, had already been decided.
.....
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