"Oh? A few years apart and you've grown a pair, huh?"
Jinsuke raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.
This brat had been calling himself the Sorcerer Killer for a few years and already forgotten his own last name? Please. Everything Toji was doing now, Jinsuke had done—and perfected—ages ago.
"Come on then," Jinsuke said, stepping back and crooking a finger at him. "Let's see what you've got."
If talking it out wasn't working, they'd settle it the usual way. He wanted to know exactly where his hotheaded little brother got the nerve to talk to him like that.
"Tch. Don't blame me for not holding back."
Toji's eyes were already cold, simmering with the old resentment that had been festering for years. Between men—especially brothers—some things could only be solved with a fight.
He was going to find out today whether the brother who used to crush him into the dirt could still do it now.
Toji's eyes sharpened to blades. He reached into the gaping maw of the Cursed Spirit coiled around his body and pulled out a crimson three-section staff—
Playful Cloud.
The five-billion-yen Special Grade Cursed Tool that relied purely on the user's strength.
He gripped it tight, knees bent, a wild grin twisting his face. "Try not to lose too badly."
Boom!
In a flash, Toji disappeared. The red staff sliced through the air with a shrieking whistle as it whipped toward Jinsuke.
Jinsuke's body tensed for an instant, heat flaring off him in waves as his muscles surged, veins standing out like cords.
Snap!
He shot out one hand and caught Playful Cloud mid-swing.
The force that slammed into his arm was enough to make it go numb.
Playful Cloud might lack any special Cursed Technique, but its raw power was brutal—its strength scaled with its wielder's. It was a weapon made for monsters.
In Toji's hands, it could hunt Special Grade Cursed Spirits with ease.
And yet, though Jinsuke's arm trembled from the impact, his expression didn't even flicker.
He clenched his fist and yanked hard. Power rippled through the staff like a shockwave—so fierce that in the next instant, Jinsuke had ripped Playful Cloud clean out of Toji's grip.
He grinned. "Guess this thing's mine now."
It was the kind of weapon he loved—pure, violent simplicity.
Toji scowled, clicking his tongue. "Hmph."
Without missing a beat, he reached into the Cursed Spirit again and drew a wide-bladed, gleaming weapon—
Soul Split Katana.
Another Special Grade Cursed Tool, one that ignored both physical and cursed defenses to strike directly at the soul. Wounds from it could never heal.
"..."
Jinsuke eyed the blade, swallowing hard. Damn. Another treasure. Toji really was hoarding all the good stuff.
Toji gripped the hilt tight, his body blurring into motion once more.
Jinsuke met him head-on, spinning Playful Cloud with one hand and wielding it like it was born for him. A three-section staff against a massive blade—child's play.
Clang! Clang!!
Their weapons clashed in a blur, sparks scattering. Jinsuke moved like he was taking a stroll, effortlessly parrying every blow.
"Toji," he said with a smirk, "your attack patterns are still the same old song."
He swung Playful Cloud down hard, meeting Toji's charge head-on.
Toji's eyes narrowed. He raised the Soul Split Katana to block—
BANG!
He stopped the second section perfectly. But he'd forgotten what made Playful Cloud dangerous.
The momentum whipped the third section around—
—and cracked him square on the head.
Thud.
Toji staggered back, blood running down his face as his brain rang like a bell.
"Yeesh." Jinsuke winced. "You seriously just tanked that with your head?"
Taking a Special Grade Cursed Tool to the skull—he had to admit, Toji was a real damn warrior.
Toji swayed, eyes unfocused—
—and collapsed face-first into the dirt with a solid thunk.
"Ah… damn it."
Jinsuke sighed, scratching the back of his neck before crouching to lift his unconscious brother.
He knew Toji better than anyone. For all his calm, calculating surface, the guy still had a temper. When something hit too close to home, his logic went right out the window.
Like now—too desperate to win, too stubborn to think.
Or like the next time he'd lose his cool—when facing the newly awakened Satoru Gojo.
"Heh. Guess he's not that different from me back in the day," Jinsuke murmured with a rueful smile.
He hoisted Toji up and had barely taken a few steps when a new voice broke the silence.
"yo hisashiburi ~ Looks like it's two-on-one now?"
A figure drenched in blood stood in their path—
Satoru Gojo.
"..."
Jinsuke stared at him, speechless.
Couldn't the guy have shown up after they'd left? Not that it would've mattered—he'd find them anyway.
"You've got the wrong guy," Jinsuke said flatly, pretending not to recognize him.
But beside him, Toji was already stirring.
Thanks to his Heavenly Restriction, his body's resilience was monstrous. Even after taking a hit from Playful Cloud to the skull, he was already recovering.
He pushed Jinsuke's arm off and stared wide-eyed at Gojo. "You? That's impossible."
"Real as it gets," Gojo said, brushing bloody hair from his face. A half-healed cut still marked his forehead.
"Reverse Cursed Technique?"
"Bingo."
A manic grin spread across Gojo's face as he raised his hands, looking skyward.
In the instant his throat was pierced, he'd dropped all defenses and focused everything on one thing—activating the Reverse Cursed Technique.
Cursed Energy was negative by nature. It couldn't heal, couldn't regenerate life. But by flipping that energy—multiplying two negatives to make a positive—it could be transformed into pure restorative force.
And in that single brush with death, Satoru Gojo had done the impossible.
He'd awakened to the core of jujutsu itself—the Reverse Cursed Technique.
Bathed in sunset light, Gojo floated midair, voice soft with something like awe as he recounted his enlightenment.
Toji's patience snapped. He shook his head to clear it, drew the Inverted Spear of Heaven, and lunged.
But Gojo slipped past the strike with ease.
A flash of red. A twisting blur.
Another attack—missed again.
Gojo drifted lazily in the air, eyes blank, detached—as if he'd transcended everything around him.
Right now, nothing could shake him.
The world felt vast. Boundless. Perfect.
And he felt like its center.
Heaven and Earth, above and below—only I stand supreme.
"Cursed Technique Reversal—Red!"
Gojo hung upside down, fingers forming a blade as red energy condensed into a tiny sphere at his fingertips.
It exploded forward, slamming into the Inverted Spear of Heaven with crushing repulsive force—stronger even than Blue, twice over.
The blast hurled Toji straight into the ruins below.
Unbothered, Toji clawed his way out of the rubble, the Cursed Spirit at his side vomiting up a chain that latched onto his weapon's hilt.
He swung it high—the Inverted Spear of Heaven spinning above him in a deadly orbit.
A savage grin split his face.
All his resentment was gone now, burned away by the thrill of battle.
Because he understood. The man before him... might already be the strongest sorcerer alive.
And Toji Zenin had only one thought left—
To kill him.
To prove that the so-called strongest sorcerer could still fall to a man with no Cursed Energy at all.
He'd make the whole world watch as its "strongest" was cut down by a powerless monkey.
He'd make them regret every sneer, every whisper, every insult they'd thrown at the Zenin brothers.
Limitless's automatic barrier meant nothing to him.
Blue's pull could be dodged—or blocked with a weapon.
Red's repulsion could be deflected with the Inverted Spear of Heaven.
Everything was within his control.
"Enough."
Jinsuke appeared between them in a blur.
Knowing everything about Satoru Gojo, he wasn't about to let Toji throw himself into that fight.
There was no point in letting it go any further.