Satoru stood up and looked at the corpse at his feet. The warning Yamada had left before departing flashed through his mind: "If his body isn't handled properly after he's killed, something even more disgusting than him will come out to occupy his shell. Weigh that for yourself."
Burn it to ashes?
Satoru's fingers curled slightly.
Reason told him that the unfathomable man would never make groundless claims.
But looking at Suguru's familiar face—the face that had laughed and messed around with him during their youth—his heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand.
This was his only best friend, how could he personally consign his remains to the flames, leaving not even a trace of ash?
"I'm sorry... I can't do it."
Satoru took a deep breath and ultimately abandoned the plan to destroy the body.
He bent down, picked up Suguru's body, and decided to find a quiet place to bury his best friend properly.
However, the gears of fate often lock together in the darkness precisely because of such a sliver of human weakness.
Just three months after Satoru left Shinjuku, a long-dormant shadow quietly squirmed in the secret graveyard where Suguru was buried.
Kenjaku, with the stitches on his forehead, had finally found the opportunity he had dreamed of after a long period of dormancy.
"A powerful body, and that mouth-watering Cursed Spirit Manipulation..."
In the darkness, Kenjaku looked at the corpse and let out a spine-chilling chuckle.
"Your warning was indeed sharp, mysterious powerhouse. Unfortunately, you underestimated human emotional bonds. Satoru's weakness has become my perfect stepping stone."
—
Seasons passed, and flowers bloomed and withered.
The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons was like a pebble thrown into a lake. Though it caused a massive stir, it eventually settled into calm under the smoothing hand of time.
Before anyone knew it, half a year had quietly slipped away.
The calendar turned to June 2018.
Over the past six months, life in the luxury villa in Tokyo's Chiyoda Ward had been as peaceful and comfortable as ever.
The underground training room.
Toji casually dropped a heavy barbell onto the floor with a dull thud. He grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his body and walked up the stairs to the first-floor living room.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, Yamada sat on a single-seater sofa, holding a cup of herbal tea hand-blended by Shinobu.
The existence of the Miniature Divine Realm allowed Yamada and Shinobu to have an absolutely private world for two.
Shinobu spent half of each day tinkering with Cursed Spirit toxins in the Divine Realm's laboratory and the other half keeping Yamada company in the villa.
"Boss."
Toji walked to the fridge, grabbed a can of beer, popped the tab, and took a sip. "The winds in the Jujutsu World haven't been blowing quite right lately."
"How so?" Yamada took a sip of tea, his gaze returning from the courtyard outside.
"The number of Cursed Spirits is skyrocketing, and fluctuations of remnants from Special Grade Cursed Objects have appeared in many remote areas."
Toji rubbed the scar at the corner of his mouth, his tone carrying a sharp intuition. "Jujutsu Headquarters is overwhelmed, and they've even sent out the first-year students from Jujutsu High on high-risk missions. Oh, and my good-for-nothing son, Megumi, was sent to Sendai City in Miyagi Prefecture by Gojo a couple of days ago."
"Fushiguro Megumi went to Sendai?" Yamada's hand holding the teacup paused slightly.
Sendai City, Sugisawa Third High School.
This was the official starting point where the main plot of Jujutsu Kaisen erupts.
Calculating the time, that pink-haired boy, hailed as the best vessel in a thousand years, should have already been swept into that vortex of destiny.
"Supposedly he's there to recover a sealed Special Grade Cursed Object." Toji shrugged.
"Even though I don't usually bother with the kid, those Special Grade Cursed Objects are a death sentence if anything goes wrong. That bastard Gojo sure is carefree."
Yamada placed his teacup on the marble tabletop and stood up. He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked up at the northeastern horizon.
There, in a dimension undetectable by ordinary people, an extremely tyrannical energy was showing signs of erupting.
"A Special Grade Cursed Object. Ryomen Sukuna's finger."
Yamada's voice was soft, but it made Toji's drinking motion stop abruptly.
"The King of Curses?" Toji's eyes instantly sharpened. "The seal on that antique has loosened?"
"More than just loosened."
Yamada's lips curled into an interested sneer. "The bait has been cast. That brain hidden for a thousand years and that insufferable King of Curses are finally about to officially enter the game."
For over half a year, Yamada had not actively sought Kenjaku's whereabouts. He knew very well that as long as Sukuna, the core piece, had not been revived, the plan for the Culling Game could not fully unfold.
Killing Kenjaku early would be nothing more than clearing away a slightly clever ant.
What he was waiting for was the moment when this grand chessboard was fully laid out.
"Toji. Go get the car." Yamada turned around and ordered.
"Having been idle for half a year, my bones are practically rusting. Let's go to Sendai City to join the fun and, while we're at it, meet that legendary King of Curses."
—
Miyagi Prefecture, Sendai City.
As night fell, the campus of Sugisawa Third High School was shrouded in a heavy haze.
On the fourth-floor corridor of the teaching building, the atmosphere had reached a breaking point.
"Hand that over to me, now! Otherwise, you'll be eaten!"
Megumi leaned against the wall, his face covered in blood. His hands were formed into a sign to summon a shikigami as he stared intently at the pink-haired boy held in the grip of a massive Cursed Spirit.
That pink-haired boy's name was Itadori Yuji. Tonight, to save his seniors from the Occult Research Club, he had smashed through the school building's glass and been swept into this battle far beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.
However, facing the Cursed Spirit attracted by the Special Grade Cursed Object, Yuji's superhuman physical abilities still proved insufficient.
He was held tightly in mid-air by the Cursed Spirit, and that withered Special Grade Cursed Object wrapped in sealing talismans—Ryomen Sukuna's finger—was clutched firmly in his hand.
"Giving it to you won't save anyone! Since this monster came here to eat this thing..."
Yuji looked down at the battered Megumi and his unconscious companions, his grandfather's final words echoing in his mind.
[Die surrounded by people.]
"If I eat it, I'll get Cursed Energy, right?!"
Under Megumi's horrified gaze, Yuji suddenly tilted his head back and, without hesitation, tossed the withered finger emitting a nauseating aura into his mouth and swallowed it whole.
"Gulp."
The finger slid down his esophagus.
Time seemed to fall into absolute stillness at this moment.
Immediately after, the Cursed Spirit holding Yuji suddenly let out a cry of extreme terror.
Bang!
The Cursed Spirit's massive body exploded from within without warning. A rain of blood mixed with severed limbs and shredded flesh showered the ground.
Amidst the smoke and dust, Yuji landed steadily on the corridor floor. But the aura about him had undergone a world-shaking transformation.
Beneath his originally clean-cut short hair, a second pair of eerie eyes appeared on his face out of nowhere. Pitch-black patterns spread from his cheeks and neck across his entire body.
He slowly lowered his head, looking at his power-filled hands, as a low, raspy laugh filled with endless arrogance and brutality erupted from his throat.
"Hahahahaha!"
Ryomen Sukuna had awakened.
He tore apart the upper half of his school uniform, feeling the moonlight and breeze flowing through the air.
"Light! What a wonderful sensation! Human flesh is as marvelous as ever!"
Sukuna stood at the edge of the rooftop, overlooking the sleeping modern city, his eyes filled with cruel killing intent.
"Where are the women? Where are the children? What a wonderful era this is! This time, I'm going to have a slaughtering spree!"
Megumi grit his teeth and crossed his hands, preparing to summon his strongest shikigami for a desperate final stand.
Facing the King of Curses, he knew he had no chance of winning, but as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, he had no choice.
Just at this tense, life-or-death moment, an ill-timed sound of clapping abruptly emerged from the shadows on the other side of the rooftop.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The crisp sound of clapping was exceptionally piercing on the empty rooftop.
Sukuna's arrogant laughter came to a screeching halt. Both pairs of eyes narrowed simultaneously, sweeping toward the source of the sound.
Megumi was also stunned.
Under their suspicious and surprised gazes, a tall young man clad in a black uniform stepped onto the rooftop's edge railing and walked out unhurriedly.
"You've been a popsicle for a thousand years, and you start shouting the moment you wake up. It seems time hasn't taught you the meaning of keeping a low profile."
Yamada had his hands in his pockets, letting the high-altitude night wind ruffle his black hair.
He looked down at Sukuna, who had occupied Yuji's body. In his pitch-black pupils, there wasn't a hint of awe for the King of Curses, only a deep indifference, as if looking at prey waiting to be slaughtered.
"Ryomen Sukuna, right?"
A cold, sharp curve rose at the corner of Yamada's lips.
"I heard you're hailed as the King of Curses. What a coincidence, my favorite hobby is dragging all sorts of 'Kings' off their thrones and then crushing their bones inch by inch."
As he finished speaking, a terrifying pressure, far exceeding that of a Special Grade Cursed Spirit, erupted from within Yamada.
The smile on Sukuna's face vanished.
Looking at the man before him who didn't have a trace of Cursed Energy yet gave him a lethal sense of threat, the battle-hungry blood within him instantly boiled.