Time is the world's most ruthless, yet most impartial chisel.
Yoru had vanished.
At least, he had for the high-ranking officials of the jujutsu world.
The anomaly who had always loomed over them like an insurmountable mountain—the one who could slay Special Grade curses without a shred of cursed energy—was finally, completely gone.
They rejoiced, even popping champagne in secret, believing the world had returned to its familiar track where they could manipulate it at will.
However, for those whose fates were truly changed by Yoru...
His disappearance did not plunge them into despair.
On the contrary, the seeds of 'resistance and protection' that Yoru had personally sown...
Over the long span of ten years, they grew into a towering tree that reached the sky with frantic, stubborn resilience!
In those ten years.
The immaturity and confusion of their youth had come to a final end.
Satoru Gojo.
The once-unrivaled problem child had fulfilled the promise he made to Yoru behind Jujutsu High.
He donned the black blindfold that symbolized his status as a teacher, reined in his past arrogance, and poured all his energy into nurturing the next generation of sorcerers.
He used absolute force to intimidate the restless higher-ups and used his vast wings to shield the students, creating a sanctuary free from calculation and sacrifice.
He had become the truly strongest, and in the hearts of all his students, he was the most reliable Gojo-sensei.
Suguru Geto.
He still bore the infamous title of the 'Worst Curse User,' ruling the shadows like a cold-blooded tyrant as he expanded the influence of the Pan-Star Religious Group.
He devoured tens of thousands of cursed spirits, either recruiting or eradicating the evil forces hidden in the dark.
But he always maintained the ultimate line—he never once killed an innocent civilian without cause.
He was like a dragon lurking in the abyss, using himself as bait while staring down that thousand-year plotter named Kenjaku.
Kento Nanami.
He did not lose heart due to Yu Haibara's death as he did in the original timeline, nor did he flee reality to become a salaryman who hated overtime.
Under Yoru's guidance and the motivation of Haibara's survival, he pushed his Ratio Technique to its absolute limit!
He became the youngest and most reliable Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer at the school, even setting a terrifying record for consecutive Black Flashes, becoming a powerful figure that even the higher-ups dared not provoke.
Yu Haibara.
He still maintained that carefree optimism and passion.
Although his talent did not match Nanami's...
Through ten times the effort of a normal person, he became an excellent assistant supervisor and tactical instructor, acting as the key hub connecting the internal and external intelligence networks of Jujutsu High.
Then there were Megumi Fushiguro, Maki Zenin...
Those children who were once cursed by fate had shed their youth over these ten years, molting into sharp swords capable of standing on their own!
Everyone was guarding the world in their own way.
And all were spending their lives waiting for the return of the man who had changed their destiny!
Over the past decade, deep within the restricted area of Jujutsu High, Satoru Gojo had personally crafted a nameless cenotaph using a broken spare blade.
Every year on that day, whether it was Nanami on an overseas mission or Suguru Geto stirring up trouble in the shadows, they would all tacitly drop everything and return to the school.
They would place a bottle of sake before the cenotaph and talk through the night, exchanging the latest intelligence on the thousand-year conspirator Kenjaku.
This was not just a remembrance of an old friend, but their highest secret pact to fight side-by-side in the darkness.
Time turned.
Late Autumn, 2016.
In a remote, abandoned alleyway in Shibuya, Tokyo, smelling of pungent trash and sour decay.
Vwoom!
The once-still air suddenly produced a faint spatial ripple, carrying an ancient resonance.
Immediately after, a blinding golden light exploded in the middle of the alley without warning!
The light was extremely brief, not even lasting long enough to be caught by any surveillance cameras in the surrounding blocks.
Thud!
Accompanied by the dull sound of a heavy object hitting the ground.
A slender figure dressed in black training clothes with empty hands fell heavily onto the ground covered in puddles and mud.
"Cough... cough, cough..."
Yoru struggled to push himself up from the ground.
He felt as if his internal organs had been displaced, and his bones felt like they had been crushed and reassembled in a tumble dryer.
The soul-tearing pain caused him to cough violently.
A trace of crimson blood slowly trickled from the corner of his mouth.
"Damn it... the aftereffects of forcibly anchoring time coordinates are far more terrifying than I imagined..."
Yoru wiped the blood from his mouth and took deep breaths of the somewhat murky air of this era, trying to calm the chaotic surge of energy within him.
He subconsciously reached for his waist.
The place where Shiranui should have hung for so long.
But now, his palm only met the rough texture of fabric and a hollow sense of emptiness.
Yoru paused for a moment, then let out a self-deprecating laugh.
'That's right... To sever the karmic ties, I left that blade in that era.'
"Handing it over to Satoru should be more meaningful than carrying it with me."
Even though he had lost his handy weapon and could not feel a response from the system, there wasn't a trace of panic in Yoru's eyes.
He slowly stood up and brushed the muddy water off his clothes.
Even without a sword in hand, even with his Synchronization Rate having dropped, those deep red eyes still flickered with a terrifying sharpness that had crossed the long years.
He stepped out of the dark alley and onto the bustling, noisy street.
On massive electronic billboards, colorful neon lights flickered with dazzling brilliance.
Yoru looked up, his gaze passing over the constant flow of people and vehicles, locking onto the blinking red numbers at the top of a billboard.
November 15, 2016.
Looking at this familiar date fraught with destiny.
A wild, even slightly bloodthirsty smile slowly curled on Yoru's pale but still peerlessly handsome face.
"2016..."
"What nostalgic air."
"It seems my luck is quite good. I finally returned to this stage before everything completely explodes."
Yoru took a deep breath. Though his hands were empty, he strode into the bustling crowd with a calm and composed gait.
The past of his youth had settled into the most indestructible foundation during these ten blank years.
And now.
The 'Cursed-Energy-Less Sword Saint'—who had left behind countless legends and was deeply feared by all top-tier powerhouses—had finally crossed the torrent of time to reign over this land once more!
"Yuta Okkotsu, and that rat hiding in the sewers, Kenjaku..."
"This reckoning, delayed by ten years, begins now!"
As for that blade...
It should have been lying quietly somewhere in this era for ten years.
And those old friends who had waited for him for a decade—what kind of earth-shattering waves would be stirred when they saw this familiar figure again?
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