At the tunnel entrance, a suffocating wave of cursed energy descended like a physical weight. Yuta Okkotsu's gaze locked onto Itadori. His lifeless eyes betrayed no emotion as his fingers hovered over the sling bag at his side.
Naoya Zenin raised both hands, his smile forced and oily. "Okkotsu-kun! I'm Naoya Zenin — the higher-ups sent me to assist you!"
Yuta paused. His cold gaze flicked toward Naoya, giving only the faintest nod before reaching into his bag. A sharp metallic hum split the air.
Steel flashed — the long katana was drawn in a single motion. Without a word, Yuta's body vanished, leaving only an afterimage. The blade thrust forward with lethal precision—straight at Itadori.
"It's Yuta-senpai!" Itadori's pupils contracted. He knew too well how terrifying his senior was. Instinct took over; his legs kicked off the ground, his body blasting backward just as the sword carved through the space he'd occupied a heartbeat ago.
"Run!" Choso's voice echoed sharply. Itadori met his eyes for a split second, then turned and sprinted into the darkness of the tunnel. Yuta gave no reply—only pursuit.
"Don't think you can pass!" Choso's voice roared as his hands came together, cursed blood swirling violently.
"Tch. Don't get in my way." Naoya smirked, his figure flickering like a phantom. In an instant, he was in front of Choso. A single kick disrupted the blood technique.
"Annoying trash," Naoya sneered, flexing his hand as cursed energy crackled around his palm. "A defective Kamo experiment? Fine. I'll play with you."
The next instant, he was gone again—his palm materializing in front of Choso's face, the impact splitting the air with a violent rush.
Deep within the tunnel. Itadori ran at full tilt. The sound of his heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning everything else out. Behind him, the air shimmered with killing intent — heavy, cold, relentless. Yuta Okkotsu was faster. The distance between them was collapsing with terrifying speed. The faint hiss of a blade slicing through air grazed the back of his neck.
"Yuji Itadori." Yuta's calm voice echoed through the dark like death's whisper. "Stop."
Itadori's response was a desperate counterpunch.
"Bang!"
Fist met blade, the impact resonating through the tunnel. Yuta's wrist trembled from the sheer force, but his expression remained cold. Itadori flipped back, trying to widen the gap—but Yuta was already upon him, his form blurring into motion.
Another flash of steel. Swift. Ruthless. Merciless.
It aimed straight for his throat.
"Chii—!"
The blade grazed Itadori's cheek, a line of crimson blooming.
There was no time to breathe—another swing followed, seamless, fluid, unrelenting. The tunnel walls cracked under the force of Yuta's slashes. Concrete exploded; shards of stone flew like shrapnel.
"Damn it!" Itadori gritted his teeth, pain stinging his neck. Against a special-grade sorcerer at full strength, survival itself was a miracle. Each dodge felt like gambling with death.
The entire tunnel had become a cage — and the hunter was closing in.
Meanwhile, in Osaka…
Taisai Tensei was falling in love. He and Kitagawa strolled down a sunlit street lined with colorful shops. Neon reflected in her bright eyes as she licked ice cream from the corner of her lips, laughing softly.
Her hand was small and warm in his. When she spotted a doll shop, she tugged him in with sparkling enthusiasm.
"Ten-kun, look! This cat doll — isn't it adorable?" she said, holding up a plush white cat.
Taisai chuckled. "If you like it, buy it."
She hugged the doll happily and continued browsing, her energy infectious. Later, they stopped by a street performer juggling in the plaza. Kitagawa clapped with delight, and when the act ended, she dropped a few coins into his hat, bowing with her usual brightness.
Then, without warning, a light rain began to fall. Taisai gently pulled her under the awning of a nearby café. Inside, the warm aroma of roasted beans filled the air. Jazz music trickled softly from a speaker. They sat by the window, ordered lattes, and watched the raindrops race down the glass.
"Ten-kun," she murmured, smiling. "Today was really fun."
He reached over and pinched her cheek. "As long as you're happy."
"But…" she hesitated. "You're getting more and more famous. And with your… 'superhero' side, won't you be too busy soon?"
Taisai smiled, his tone gentle. "It's fine. I've made enough. Even if I stopped today, we'd live comfortably. As for that 'hero' business…" He shrugged lightly. "I'm not interested in being someone else's symbol. I just want to live."
Kitagawa bit her lip, clutching her cat doll. "Still, Ten-kun is amazing… Back in Shibuya, you sliced open space with two swings…"
Her words trailed off, her eyes full of quiet admiration.
Taisai ruffled her hair. "Don't worry about that. There are other heroes carrying the world. I'd rather just carry you."
Kitagawa blinked — then grinned, her doubt dissolving into a radiant smile. "Mm-hmm! Ten-kun is right!"
He was about to tease her again when his gaze drifted out the window. Rain shimmered like silver threads against the glass. And above Tokyo's clear November sky — no one noticed.
Ten colossal, translucent black domes had formed high above Japan, like inverted bowls swallowing the horizon. Each connected by unseen currents of power, spanning the entire archipelago—except Hokkaido.
A crushing pressure fell upon the nation. The Culling Game had begun.
In Osaka, inside a hotel suite.
Taisai's fingers froze midway through setting down his cup. The golden sunlight reflecting off the window carried an unnatural weight.
"The Culling Game…" he murmured. "So it's begun."
Boom—! The city shook. The deafening blast split the air, followed by screams from the street below.
"Ah!" Kitagawa gasped, face draining of color.
"Let's go."
Without hesitation, Taisai pulled her into his arms. In the next instant, the room vanished. Wind roared in their ears—they were standing atop the Tenshukaku of Osaka Castle.
Kitagawa trembled, clutching him tightly. "T-Ten-kun?"
Below them, plumes of black smoke rose from multiple districts. Explosions flickered in the distance. The entire city was a battlefield, cursed energy clashing in waves that distorted the very air.
"The Culling Game's first act…" Taisai muttered, eyes narrowing.
"Ten-kun…" Kitagawa's voice quivered, "what's happening?"
"It's not safe here." His tone hardened. "We're leaving."
He raised his right hand—Yamato materialized in his grip with a resonant chime.
"Clang—!"
One clean swing tore through the air, and reality split apart like fabric. A glowing rift opened before them, blue arcs crackling along its edge. On the other side — a quiet city bathed in peace.
"Sapporo Tower…" Kitagawa whispered. "That's—Hokkaido?"
"The only untouched land," Taisai confirmed, grasping her hand.
Without another word, the two stepped into the light. The spatial tear sealed shut behind them—
cutting off the screams and smoke of Osaka.