The sky above Japan had become unnaturally vivid these days — clouds twisting into impossible shapes, glowing for seconds with colors unseen by ordinary eyes. It was as if the very air trembled with invisible life.
And beneath those skies, Kurotsuki Tenkai strolled through another ruined alleyway of Osaka, whistling softly as yet another Grade 1 cursed spirit screamed before evaporating into ash.
"That's number sixty-eight this week," Aion reported, voice smooth and metallic.
Tenkai stretched lazily, rotating his neck. "I'm starting to think they're lining up for execution."
Beside him, Alice stood with a lollipop in her mouth, wearing a fashionable black jacket far too clean for the battlefield. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
He smirked, brushing off cursed dust from his coat. "What can I say? It's a vacation with free fireworks."
Alice rolled her eyes. "You call slaughtering curses a vacation?"
He turned, flashing a grin. "You call shopping for snacks between exorcisms normal."
She pouted, but before she could retort, Aion's voice chimed in again.
"Master, the frequency of cursed manifestations has increased by 420% in the last ten days. Japan's mass media is no longer able to conceal it."
Tenkai stopped mid-step. His eyes glowed faintly. "So, the world's waking up…"
"Affirmative. Multiple independent organizations have begun investigations. Government agencies have dispatched covert units. The supernatural is now public."
Alice blinked. "You mean they finally noticed?"
He chuckled. "Humans are slow until fear catches up."
Within a week, Japan was in chaos.
Every newspaper, every talk show, every social feed blared the same question:"What are these supernatural events spreading across the nation?"
Reports of invisible monsters devouring people filled the airwaves. Security footage leaked. Scientists fumbled for explanations. The panic reached such a point that the Japanese Government itself stepped in — quietly forming an emergency committee under the direct order of the Prime Minister.
They gathered every scrap of intelligence — witness accounts, energy readings, temple records — and found only fragments. But two names appeared again and again in whispered circles and encrypted networks:
"Gojo Satoru.""Kurotsuki Tenkai."
It didn't take long for the government to act.
Through existing partnerships with Kurotsuki Industries, they already knew Tenkai as the world's youngest tech mogul — the man who broke economic systems with the Quantum Replicator Node. But now, with the supernatural spreading uncontrollably, they connected the dots.
An official invitation was sent — sealed under highest security clearance.A private meeting.A classified agenda.A date: Tokyo, Government Central Command Building.
Tenkai accepted immediately.And, as expected, so did Gojo.
The day of the meeting arrived.
The building's top floor was cleared — an expansive glass chamber with panoramic views of the Tokyo skyline. Rows of Japan's elite sat around a circular conference table: the Prime Minister, the Defense Minister, several Generals, and top members of Japan's intelligence bureau.
Dozens of armed guards stood discreetly near the exits, though their hands trembled slightly.
The doors slid open with a soft hiss.
First entered Gojo Satoru — radiant white hair, blindfolded, hands casually in pockets as if he'd strolled into a café.Behind him, Kurotsuki Tenkai — poised, sharp, his eyes carrying the calm precision of a god who had already solved the world.
The Prime Minister rose, bowing slightly. "Kurotsuki-san, Gojo-san. We're deeply honored you accepted our invitation."
Gojo grinned, waving lazily. "No need for formality. Though if you've got snacks, that might help me stay focused."
Tenkai sighed quietly. "Ignore him. He doesn't have an off switch."
Soft laughter rippled through the room, breaking the initial tension.
After exchanging pleasantries and formal gifts, the Prime Minister finally sat. "Gentlemen, let's begin."
A large holographic screen came to life in the center of the room — showing footage of destroyed cities, strange shadows moving through walls, and creatures resembling deformed humans.
The Prime Minister leaned forward. "These… incidents. They began only months ago but have now escalated beyond comprehension. Entire towns are vanishing. And yet, no conventional weapon seems effective. We've come to believe, Kurotsuki-san, Gojo-san… you two understand what we're facing."
Silence followed.
Tenkai's gaze flicked to Gojo. Gojo returned a small nod — a silent cue.
Gojo stood, his expression turning serious for once. "You're right. What you're seeing are cursed spirits. They're born from human fear, hatred, regret — the negative emotions of society itself. When that energy builds up, it manifests into living curses."
Gasps spread across the table.
One general muttered, "You mean… they're alive?"
"Alive enough to kill you," Gojo replied bluntly, smiling faintly under the blindfold.
The Defense Minister leaned forward. "Then, can't we destroy them with… missiles? Firearms? Advanced weaponry?"
Tenkai chuckled under his breath. "If that worked, I'd be out of a job."
Gojo continued, "Only those who possess cursed energy can fight curses. Physical weapons are useless. You're trying to stab smoke with steel."
The Prime Minister exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples. "Then… that means the nation has no means of defense."
Gojo nodded. "Exactly. Until now, we — the Jujutsu Society — handled it. In secret. For centuries."
The revelation hung in the air like thunder.
"A hidden organization?" the Minister repeated. "For how long?"
Gojo grinned, sitting back down. "Let's just say… since before your constitution."
Tenkai finally spoke, tone calm and analytical. "The Jujutsu world operates independently, governed by sorcerers. They've kept the balance, though… not always perfectly."
The Prime Minister turned toward him. "And you, Kurotsuki-san? Are you part of this 'Jujutsu Society'?"
He smirked faintly. "No. I'm… an observer. I act when necessary."
Alice, sitting quietly behind him, whispered with a teasing grin, "He means he's a free agent who kills curses for fun."
Several officers exchanged nervous glances.
After a long pause, the Prime Minister straightened. "Then tell us this — what must we do? Japan cannot rely on secrecy any longer."
That's when Gojo's grin faded — replaced by something sharper, more thoughtful. "Then maybe it's time to stop hiding. You have soldiers, resources, and structure. We have knowledge, technique, and experience. Together, we could create something new — a National Cursed Response Division."
Murmurs filled the room.
The Defense Minister's eyes widened. "A joint task force… of sorcerers and military?"
Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Exactly. But it won't be easy. The current Jujutsu higher-ups… well, they're fossils clinging to their throne. Corrupt. Outdated. My goal's been to reform that system — to raise a new generation of sorcerers with heart and brains, not fear and obedience."
He paused, the air in the room thickening. "I lost a friend once — Suguru Geto. He was brilliant, but the system broke him. I don't want that to happen again."
The Prime Minister nodded solemnly. "Then you wish to reform from within, not destroy it."
Gojo smiled — genuine this time. "Destroying things is easy. Changing them? That's fun."
Tenkai chuckled softly from his seat. "For once, I agree with him."
Gojo turned to him. "Hey, don't make it sound rare."
"It is rare," Tenkai deadpanned, earning a few chuckles from the officials.
The negotiation continued for hours — logistics, training, secrecy, funding. Gojo spoke animatedly, painting visions of new academies, cursed energy research centers, and cross-training between sorcerers and elite soldiers.
Tenkai sat quietly through most of it, sipping tea with serene amusement.
At one point, Gojo slammed his hand on the table. "And one more thing — full independence. No bureaucratic leash. This division will answer directly to me and Tenkai."
The room went silent.
The Prime Minister hesitated, then smiled faintly. "You drive a hard bargain, Gojo-san."
Gojo leaned back, grinning. "That's why you love me."
Tenkai pinched his temples. "Please don't flirt with the government."
Laughter broke the tension. Even the guards smiled.
As the meeting ended, agreements were drafted and handshakes exchanged. The air buzzed with cautious optimism.
Gojo turned toward the window, gazing at the sprawling Tokyo night. "This might actually work."
Tenkai, reclining on the sofa, responded lazily, "It'll take two years minimum to establish properly. And that's if we ignore the three great clans."
Gojo's grin turned mischievous. "Oh, we won't ignore them. We'll make them jealous."
Tenkai smiled faintly, eyes narrowing. "You're enjoying this too much."
"Of course I am," Gojo said, stretching. "It's not every day the strongest and the smartest get to rewrite history."
Alice clapped her hands. "So… does this mean Japan's new superhero squad is official?"
Tenkai groaned. "Don't encourage him."
Gojo winked. "Too late. I'm already thinking of uniforms."
As they left the building, the night wind carried a quiet hum — cursed energy dancing unseen through the city.Tenkai glanced up at the moon, calm as ever.
"Aion," he murmured, "log everything. The real game's starting now."
"Acknowledged, Master. Operation: National Cursed Division — in progress."
Gojo laughed beside him, hands in pockets. "You ready to shake the world again, partner?"
Tenkai smirked. "I never stopped."
And as the two strongest men in Japan walked side by side into the neon-lit night, the future itself seemed to bend — waiting for their next move.