Cursed Spirits/ Jurei, monsters of negativity, are the shadows cast by humanity itself.
Born from fear.
Born from hatred.
Born from the emotions people try to bury yet endlessly leak into the world.
They lurk unseen by non-sorcerers, whispering at the edges of consciousness.
For as long as humans have lived, curses have lived beside them—feeding on their misery.
No one knows when the first curse appeared.
But history remembers the Heian Era as jujutsu's golden age, where a single name dominated all others:
Ryomen Sukuna — The King of Curses.
His malice shaped a millennium. And in the modern day, the curse problem has only grown worse. Japan sees over ten thousand unexplained deaths and disappearances every year, the direct handiwork of curses that stalk schools, hospitals, stations, homes…
Anywhere the human heart trembles, negativity gathers. And where negativity gathers, a cursed spirit can be born. Humanity fears many things.
But nothing is older, deeper, or more universal than the fear of the dark. The fear of what watches from it. The fear that the darkness is not empty. Those fears gathered over many years.
Layer after layer, terror sedimented into the world like black silt. Tonight, in an abandoned warehouse in northern Kyoto…
That fear finally took shape.
------
Shadows crawled along the concrete floor, pooling like spilled ink. They twisted.
They writhed. They pulled themselves upward, forming a pulsating cocoon of pitch-black, cursed energy.
The air shrieked. Metal groaned. The building trembled like it was being swallowed by night itself.
Then...
CRACK.
The cocoon ruptured.
A figure stepped out, fully humanoid, but undeniably monstrous. He stood tall, slender, almost regal in his stillness. His deep tan skin was split with cracks like dried stone, each fissure leaking, drifting black smoke. Long black hair hovered weightlessly behind him. Red eyes with pupils shaped like sharp X's glowed like demonic lanterns.
Those eyes did not just look at you. They weighed you. He wore no clothes, but shadows slithered up his form, coating him like a living cloak. The newborn creature inhaled gently, tasting the world.
"Umbra…"
He paused, savoring the syllable.
"No...Umbra Noctis."
His name echoed through the warehouse as if the shadows themselves whispered it. Umbra raised a hand and expanded his senses. Kyoto ignited in his awareness.
A vast ocean of cursed energy pulsed in the distance. Sorcerers. Humans. Lives worth testing, worth devouring.
His lips curved upward.
"So many lights in the darkness…"
Then he announced himself. A wave of cursed energy burst outward from his form, low, deep, sickening. Birds fled the trees outside. Animals collapsed in terror.
Several humans nearby dropped to their knees, clutching their throats, not even knowing why.
And within an hour…
His once-empty shadow now contained a dozen pairs of blinking red X-eyes, the remnants of the unlucky humans who wandered into the warehouse to loiter, explore, or hide from the rain.
None of them had seen him. None of them had been interesting.
Humans rarely were. He did, however, take a pair of baggy pants, boots, and a jacket from one of the corpses.
"Practical," he murmured.
Just as he turned to leave...
He felt them.
Four signatures approaching. Strong. Disciplined. Familiar with their intent. Then a barrier dropped around the area, a thin film of cursed energy sealing the warehouse in some sort of barrier.
Umbra hummed in amusement and sat casually on a crate beneath the single shaft of moonlight falling from the hole in the roof.
"Finally," he whispered.
"Some interesting individuals."
-----
The door slammed open.
Three men and a woman stepped inside, formation tight, eyes sharp.
The moment they saw him sitting there, legs crossed, fist resting under his chin, staring at them like a bored monarch, they froze. Then their training kicked in. They fanned out without a word. A practiced unit.
Umbra smiled softly.
"Hello," he said. "What took you so long?"
They stiffened at the casual greeting.
One man, hair tied in a tight bun, felt his stomach drop. He sensed the cursed energy coiling around the figure. His voice cracked as he shouted:
"S–semi–special grade! Everyone, stay sharp!"
Relief flickered across their faces. A semi-special-grade curse. Dangerous, but manageable. At least he wasn't special grade.
Umbra tilted his head.
"Semi-special grade… A classification of my strengths?"
No one answered.
He sighed.
"I suppose I'll learn everything I need about who you are, what you are, and what that term means when I consume your shadows."
-----
The man in the bun Gunji vanished in a burst of speed.
Umbra leaned aside as a fist sliced past his cheek. Gunji followed with a spinning heel kick, Umbra blocked with his forearm, analyzing the footwork, the rhythm.
Water surged behind him. Kyara, the girl with blue twin-tails, clasped her hands and conjured a sphere of water that split into hunting tendrils, each locking onto Umbra like living spears. He flowed between them like drifting mist, weaving in combat with Gunji.
Then the swordsman arrived. Long blond hair, eyes sharp, Junin, the cutting edge of the squad. He struck in perfect sync with Gunji, their teamwork as tight as clockwork.
Gunji's fist finally connected... and the man grinned.
"Triple Impact!"
THOOM—THOOM—THOOM.
The force of the single punch tripled, launching Umbra back.
Junin was already there, blade slashing in a crescent arc, phantom cuts slicing the curse's body and pinning him long enough for Kyara's tendrils to latch on.
And then...
"Pressure Pillar — Collapse!"
Tozen, the final sorcerer, slammed his palms together. A devastating column of compressed air smashed down on Umbra like divine punishment, carving a crater into the floor. Dust exploded outward. Silence.
The team regrouped, breathing hard but controlled. Kyara loosened her stance.
"He was fast… but we pinned him."
Junin sheathed his blade with a smirk.
"Triple Impact softened him. Good. Your brawling ways finally paid off, Gunji."
"Who the hell are you calling a brawler, sword-for-brains?!" Gunji snapped.
Tozen cut them off sharply.
"Focus. We haven't confirmed exorcism."
Gunji frowned, sweat forming as he turned to him.
"Tozen… you used full power, right?"
Tozen nodded confidently.
"Of course. That curse is finished."
Gunji swallowed hard.
"Then why… is it unscathed?"
The dust cleared.
Umbra stood in the crater, brushing off his jacket and pants, not a single wound on him.
He looked almost pleased.
He stepped forward, smiling lightly.
"Your techniques are fascinating.
You complement each other well."
He extended one hand.
His shadow stretched, dozens of eyes blinking open.
"Now then…"
"Shall we continue?"
"I believe it's my move."