From the day the investigation started, Kyoto had been raining nonstop—a steady drizzle that soaked every eave. Not a scrap of sunlight broke through the sky; even without clouds, everything was a hazy grey, as if seen through a veil of gauze.
Some of the rice paddies in the foothills had been drowned. Dead stalks still poked halfway out of the standing water, and the fields that once stretched in an endless sweep of gold were now pockmarked and cratered—like ugly acne scars on a human face.
Perhaps the unending rain had watered people's emotions too, letting damp fungi grow unchecked in dark corners.
The search for the curse's origin continued.
Day one of the search: nothing. Two city blocks eliminated, the cordon pushed forward two kilometers. The sorcerers worked themselves to exhaustion. Kira clocked out at eight and went home. No one had the authority to stop him.
Day two: still nothing. Kira went home at eight.
Day three: three brutal jujutsu attacks hit the city. One was stopped—the Curse Users fled, leaving behind the corpses of two Grade 2 Curse Users. The school lost three people. The other two attacks struck without warning; by the time sorcerers arrived, the enemy was already gone.
The government told the public it was a gas explosion.
The search turned up nothing. Two more commercial districts ruled out. Kira went home on time.
Later that same day: multiple serial murders and bombings across Kyoto. Investigation by the school confirmed they were all committed by ordinary citizens...
That same day, the suicide rate hit a new high—nearly a hundred people jumped from buildings in a single day. Meanwhile, Ukyō Ward, previously untouched, saw its first suicides. The curse was spreading further.
Kira went home at eight.
Day four: an account called "Tai Guang" posted a video on LINE showing a Kyoto police officer being beheaded in a dark room.
The video caused an uproar. Officials deleted it immediately, but more similar videos kept circulating on the dark web.
That same day, over a thousand people marched through Kyoto's streets in protest, clashing with police. Dozens died. The police used firearms.
One hundred and fifty suicides that day. Seven brutal homicides.
Nanami Kira went home at eight sharp.
...
Day eight.
Jujutsu experts analyzed the residual Cursed Energy in the air and the Cursed Energy signature of Sukuna's Finger, and reached a conclusion:
The curse would spread like a virus, but its power source was Sukuna's Finger and the caster's own Cursed Energy.
By their calculations, the curse would last ten days, after which it would exhaust the caster's Cursed Energy and dissipate completely.
If Kira's theory proved correct—if a Cursed Spirit that had absorbed an entire city's darkness for ten days and ten nights truly existed—it would be a second Ryomen Sukuna.
That day, two Grade 2 sorcerers took their own lives. The school realized the curse was severely affecting sorcerers' mental states as well, but it was already too late. Despair had taken root among their ranks.
The investigation team clashed with Kira, accusing him of collecting a paycheck while doing nothing. Kira dropped a single line—"I'm just doing my job"—and left at eight as usual.
Day nine: nothing.
Today.
Nanami Kira opened his eyes in bed.
He turned to look at the dark sky outside. Still raining. Last night's drizzle had gone on and off all through the night; the air was so damp that a thin layer of moss had started growing on the walls.
It's time.
He thought it to himself, then said it aloud, staring at the bleak sky:
"It's time."
"You can't hold out any longer. Today, we settle this."
He didn't know who he was talking to.
He got up and put on a new dress shirt. The constant rain over the past few days meant his laundry never dried, so he'd bought a fresh one.
How to put it—the new shirt gave him a clean, renewed feeling, as if shedding the old one was a farewell to the past.
The investigation team's sorcerers were as anxious as someone waking up on New Year's morning unable to find clean underwear. But Kira was calm. Relaxed, even.
How to describe it?
Like waking up on New Year's morning and deciding to skip the underwear entirely. Going commando. That kind of relaxed.
Whatever the outcome, everything would be decided today.
6:50 AM.
He finished washing up, put on his bow tie, tucked a clean handkerchief into his pocket, brushed the mold off the wall, and answered the phone on his desk.
"Kira, we found where the curse was cast. Kabukichō Second Street." It was Miwa.
"Mm."
A casual acknowledgment. He set down the brush, washed his hands thoroughly, and dried them with the handkerchief.
He looked at the face in the mirror. Terrifyingly calm.
For the first time in a long while, Nanami Kira left early. His usual schedule had him out the door at exactly seven. Before leaving, he shut off the water, electricity, and gas, left several days' worth of rent on the table, and after pulling the door shut, didn't forget to lock it.
With a click, the moment the lock engaged, Kira took one last look back—then turned and headed downstairs.
It almost looked like he was leaving for a trip.
Every person he passed on the street wore a normal expression—chatting, laughing, roughhousing.
But Kira could still see the hollowness behind their smiles. Like clowns in mascot suits.
He'd studied psychology for several years. He knew there was a theory: when someone has decided to end their life, they often appear more normal than anyone.
A black modified car was parked downstairs. The window rolled down. It was Todo.
They needed to rendezvous at the school first, then head out together.
Unlike the search teams, this time every combatant the school had was being deployed—except for Principal Gakuganji, who would stay behind to hold the fort. Senior sorcerers had even been called in from Tokyo.
Unfortunately, Yuta Okkotsu was overseas, Satoru Gojo was MIA as usual, and not a single Special Grade sorcerer was present.
Ten Grade 1 sorcerers. Twenty Grade 2. Over fifty Grade 3.
Every face grim. Cursed Tools polished and polished again. Silence. Murmured conversation. Eyes fixed forward.
Half the jujutsu world's strength had gathered—like thunder rolling with fury, sweeping across a sky choked with storm clouds. Ten days of suppressed darkness, ten days of bottled-up impulse and killing intent, all about to be unleashed.
As fire burns a forest to ash, as floodwater scours filth from the hills, as lightning splits the gloom.
Kira watched the convoy of headlights carve through the rainy night. Dozens of vehicles pouring out of the school grounds.
Engines roaring, the very earth seeming to tremble—streams converging into a sea, all flowing toward a single destination.
Dozens of cars like dozens of drawn blades, their edges slicing through the rain, their light piercing the dark.
"Todo."
Kira called out to Todo, who was driving.
"What?"
"I have a secret mission for you."
This was the critical step in Nanami Kira's plan.