Chapter 48 – Don't Steal My Prey
Under the grueling crash-course schedule, the first-years improved at a startling pace. Their physical skills sharpened, their grasp of cursed energy deepened, and even their understanding of techniques grew considerably.
Of them all, Yuta's growth was the most explosive—his talent shone brightest, his strength skyrocketing.
That's the difference with genius. They catch up to everyone else in a fraction of the time.
In just under a year since entering Jujutsu High, Yuta—even without Rika—had already closed the gap with his peers.
But now… a month later, Geto Suguru's Night Parade of a Hundred Demons had begun.
---
As darkness fell, the skies over Tokyo's Shinjuku and Kyoto churned. From rooftops, alleys, and subway tunnels, waves of cursed spirits flooded the cities.
On a deserted Shinjuku street, Yaga Masamichi, Gojo Satoru, and Zen'in Shinsuke stood shoulder to shoulder, watching as hordes of curses prowled the neon-lit avenues. Around them, Geto's cultists gathered, eyes gleaming with malice.
"Classic bait-and-distract," Yaga muttered. "Geto's real target is Yuta."
It was obvious—Geto hadn't bothered hiding his intent. The army of curses wasn't to win here; it was to tie down the schools' forces while he isolated Yuta, killed him, and stole Rika.
The Rika Extraction Plan.
Gojo's expression remained calm. "Just as I thought. I've already sent Inumaki and Panda back."
He knew exactly what Geto was after. That was why only the four first-years remained at Jujutsu High.
Perfect. He'd use Geto's scheme as fuel to drag out Yuta's hidden potential. And he was certain of one thing—Geto wouldn't kill the students.
Shinsuke, however, wasn't listening.
"Geto won't let me walk out of here so easily," Gojo said, glancing up at the rooftop where Geto's people were staring him down.
"Hey—how about you cover me here, and I'll check on the kids?"
He looked at Shinsuke hopefully.
Shinsuke arched a brow, lazily swung the wide-bladed Split Soul Sword in his hand, and snorted. "You really think that's happening?"
He'd borrowed this blade from Toji—capable of ignoring both physical hardness and cursed-energy defense—just so he could harvest every Grade 1 curse in Shinjuku, then head to Kyoto to do the same.
With a weapon this efficient, his progress would skyrocket.
"Good luck, kid. I've got hunting to do."
A blur of afterimages—and Shinsuke was gone, carving through the streets like a reaper, ignoring the fodder and heading straight for the highest-value prey.
No one steals a Grade 1 or higher curse from him.
Gojo stared at the empty space beside him. "…Figures. Can't count on him."
"Don't blame him," Yaga said dryly, cutting down a curse with one swing. "People have their quirks. An obsession with slaying curses isn't the worst vice."
Gojo sighed, flashing onto the rooftop. His gaze locked on the hulking dark-skinned sorcerer waiting there.
"…Miguel. You again."
The so-called "Elbow Strike Master" from Shibuya tightened his grip on the cursed tool Black Rope, sweat prickling down his temple. His only job was to stall Gojo, and he knew he had to do it without engaging head-on.
"ROOOOAR!"
A ten-story-tall, red-furred curse lunged out of the shadows toward Gojo.
Gojo raised his palm, cursed energy condensing into a crimson sphere that radiated annihilation.
"Out of my way."
Reversal: Red.
The scarlet orb shot forward—only for a figure to leap overhead, blade flashing downward.
SLASH!
The colossal curse split clean in two. Violet ichor geysered out, painting skyscrapers in dripping purple. The beast shrieked once before collapsing in halves, already dead.
Gojo's Red shot harmlessly past, streaking into the distance.
Shinsuke turned midair, smirking. "Don't steal my prey, kid."
And then he was gone again—nothing but a phantom reaving through Shinjuku, a machine built for slaughter.
Gojo pinched the bridge of his nose. "…This guy." He didn't even have the words anymore.
Down below, other sorcerers were struck dumb.
"An entire Grade 1… killed in one strike?!"
Their jaws hung open. That was the level the veterans lived at.
Across the city, the other Jujutsu High sorcerers were fighting hard: Nanami adjusting his tie between executions, Mei Mei hefting her axe with calm precision, Kusakabe cutting down enemies left and right. Kinji Hakari and Kirara reveled in the chaos, while Riko Tengen set up heavy artillery from inside a building.
Everyone fought valiantly—except their curses kept disappearing. Every time, a shadow would flash by, and Shinsuke would clean up the target in a single stroke.
"Sensei, kill-stealing is bad manners," Mei Mei muttered, doubling her pace. Her bounties were being snatched before her eyes, and this was supposed to be per curse, per payout.
Kusakabe gawked, knuckles white on his sword. "…What the hell? He's doing this without cursed energy? Even chickens don't die this fast!"
Whether Grade 1 or quasi-Special Grade, Shinsuke hadn't needed more than one swing on anything yet.
Within minutes, he stood atop a high-rise, spotless, only his blade dripping violet gore.
He clicked his tongue. "Tch. That's it? Geto, you stingy bastard."
Just a few dozen curses? Who was that supposed to satisfy?
Feeling the boiling vitality surging in his body, Zen'in Shinsuke cracked his neck and glanced around, eyes locking on Kyoto's direction.
If he went full speed now, he could still make it in time to kill more.
He was close—so close—to breaking into the next stage of the Eight Gates. He couldn't let this opportunity slip away.
With a slight bend of his knees, he coiled like a spring, aimed toward Kyoto, and exploded forward.
BOOM!
His body shot off like a bullet, the shockwave rattling windows as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, vanishing into the night sky.
The subway? Too slow. Two hours minimum. Running there himself would be faster.
"...What the—?! Don't tell me Shinsuke-sensei's actually heading to Kyoto?!"
Kusakabe's eyes nearly bulged out as he watched the man's silhouette blur across the skyline before disappearing entirely.
Seriously? Was Shinsuke-sensei murdered by curses in a past life or something? The man carried a grudge like no other.
"Thank god I'm not a curse…" he muttered.
In this era, for curses, Shinsuke wasn't just a sorcerer—he was a tyrant. Their living nightmare.
"What a lunatic," Nanami sighed, wiping violet ichor off his hand and adjusting his glasses.
The man went feral the moment he sniffed out a strong curse.
---
Meanwhile, back at Jujutsu High…
Yuta was already locked in battle with Geto Suguru.
With Rika at his side, he pressed against Geto, but the man fought back fiercely, wielding the Special Grade cursed tool Playful Cloud. His body flickered with polished martial arts, the weapon sweeping arcs of crushing force as he held Yuta and Rika at bay.
And if you wondered how Playful Cloud ended up in his hands?
One glance at the unconscious Maki lying nearby answered the question.
She wasn't the only one down—Inumaki and Panda were sprawled out beside her.
A month of intensive training had elevated all of them considerably, but against a former Special Grade sorcerer like Geto Suguru?
They were still leagues behind.