Outside the Seventh Northern Execution Grounds — auxiliary supervisor Akira Nitta watched as Locke, looking somewhat dazed, returned the shadow blade to the shadows. She took a can of coffee she had bought and chatted with Fushiguro.
"Is daily life for you sorcerers really this simple? That was a special-grade cursed spirit, wasn't it? It seems too easy to handle. Locke-kun took care of it all at once."
Hearing Itadori's words, so loud they almost sounded ignorant, Megumi Fushiguro's cheeks twitched almost imperceptibly. He put down the unfinished coffee in his hand, raised his eyes to him, lowered his voice, and said seriously:
"Relaxed? Sorcerers have to face curses born from the negative emotions of over a hundred million people in this country. What we face every day could be death without warning. Does that sound easy to you?"
After being innocently scolded, Knotted shrank his neck and pointed at the person who had approached, looking wronged:
"But Locke-kun clearly handled it very easily."
Megumi Fushiguro was momentarily stunned, realizing he had just lost his composure. He turned his head and said awkwardly:
"That's... that's different. He doesn't count."
"What are you talking about? You seem to be having fun."
Asking casually, Locke walked over to the three, brushed non-existent dust from his hands, and took the beer Knotted handed him.
"Nothing, it's just..." Recalling Locke's technique of using shadows as weapons, Megumi Fushiguro hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit reluctant to ask, but still did:
"How did you manage to compress shadows into a long blade?"
"Huh? Isn't that how it's done? I remember it was passed down in that life."
"Although I haven't read all the ancient texts on the Ten Shadows Technique, I'm sure there's absolutely no such technique."
"No? What about Shadow Imitation, Shadow Sewing, Shadow Clone, and Shadow Flow?"
Faced with these names that sounded very appealing but which he had never heard of, Megumi Fushiguro shook his head blankly and began to wonder if his Zen'in family had been slacking off.
"No. Even if you changed the name from Nara to Fushiguro, why would all the techniques be lost? Has the Ten Shadows Technique just become a Mahoraga summoner?"
"..."
Is it possible that the original Ten Shadows Technique was just a Mahoraga summoner?
Although Megumi Fushiguro thought something like this, facing Locke, who was "suspected" of being a reincarnated ancestor, he still shut his mouth and decided to remain silent.
Just as the atmosphere was gradually becoming awkward, Akira Nitta's phone rang, breaking the silence.
"Hello?"
"Nitta, we've detected that your target's cursed energy level has spiked to special grade. We've sent a first-grade sorcerer to assist. Don't act rashly!"
"Special grade?"
Akira Nitta glanced at the residual cursed energy left by the already dead cursed spirit, then looked at Locke, who was as relaxed as if he were out for a stroll. She swallowed and said:
"Well... no, the mission target has been eliminated."
"Huh? Are you joking? Don't you only have two unlicensed sorcerers and one second-grade sorcerer there?"
"Huh? Ah, yes..." Throwing an involuntary glance at Locke, Akira Nitta slowly explained, "But one of the unlicensed sorcerers just killed a special-grade cursed spirit with a single sword strike, so I think his level should be... special grade as well."
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————
The wave of the nationwide cursed spirit rampage spread everywhere. Sorcerers were exhausted and overwhelmed. At this time, as the "parents" of the cursed spirits, Jogo and Hanami were racing against time against the sorcerers.
Using their innate sense of cursed energy as a species, they took the lead in finding those special-grade cursed spirits with independent wisdom and intelligence—it was precisely these forces that could support them in overthrowing the jujutsu world.
After brief negotiations, without further ado, Jogo led the cursed spirits willing to follow them back to their secret base in no man's land.
It was isolated from human presence and filled with strong cursed energy, making it the safest haven for cursed spirits.
But as soon as he stepped onto the base, the elated expression on Jogo's face instantly vanished, replaced by a face full of impatience.
He caught sight of Dagon gently comforting Mahito, who was trembling in a corner, with a blanket. His cowardly and confused appearance immediately aroused Jogo's displeasure.
"What the hell, Mahito?" Jogo took heavy steps, his voice hoarse and irritated, with obvious disgust. "Why are you cowering in fear like that? Where's that Geto guy?"
Mahito trembled at his roar, his fingertips clutching the blanket on his body, his voice as soft as a mosquito's, with an indescribable fear: "He... he went off to do other things."
"Hmph, humans really are unreliable." Jogo sneered, his voice full of contempt. He paused, then raised his chin again, adding a bit of pride: "But it doesn't matter. We don't need Geto anymore."
With that, a smug smile appeared on his face. He raised a finger toward the companions behind him, his voice showy and arrogant, even the cursed energy around him becoming restless:
"Now that we have so many companions supporting us, whether it's Gojo Satoru or Ryomen Sukuna, they'll never be our enemies!"
Looking in the direction of his finger, behind him stood four special-grade cursed spirits—all born from humanity's fundamental fears of storms, lightning, the moon, and the sky. They were immensely powerful.
And this was only the partners Jogo had found. If Hanami could bring back as many, their total combat power would double, enough to contend with the entire jujutsu world.
Moreover, since the Great Cursed Spirit Uprising last night, their power had been growing rapidly without stopping.
The continuous cursed energy was like a swift tide, constantly pouring into the body of every cursed spirit, washing over their muscles and bones, strengthening their techniques. And this power was still growing day by day, minute by minute, second by second, without end.
But Mahito raised his eyes to look at his companion beside him. The knife that Locke had wielded with his bare hands yesterday—the glow of the soul, scorching like the blazing sun—suddenly flashed and exploded in his consciousness. Absolute fear instantly gripped his heart, completely engulfing every inch of his consciousness.
"It's useless..." he murmured in a trembling voice, his fingertips clenching uncontrollably.
"What are you talking about?" The cursed spirit beside him frowned, his voice full of confusion. "But why did you come back like this? It's strange."
"It's useless!" Mahito suddenly raised his eyes, his voice rising, with uncontrollable trembling and despair. "As long as that man exists, as long as we are still cursed spirits—no matter how many companions we find, no matter how strong we become—it's all useless!"
"That guy is not human at all! He is a god who has come into the world on a special journey to eliminate us, our natural enemy!"
"Our dreams, our ambitions, the land that should have been ruled by cursed spirits a hundred years from now... there will be no place for us! As long as we are still cursed spirits, we can never defeat him!"