The "hammer" lumps on Satoru and Suguru's heads were still throbbing by the time they reached the outskirts of the abandoned village. Shoko trailed a few paces behind them, nursing a bruised bump of her own and exhaling a plume of smoke from a cigarette she definitely wasn't supposed to have.
"I'm only out here because of your stupidity," she whined, her voice dripping with bratty annoyance. "Otherwise, I'd be chilling in my AC room right now." The duo, however, ignored her like seasoned professionals.
Yaga-sensei had sent them on this mission as a punishment, with orders to exorcise whatever cursed spirit was dwelling in the ruins. But Geto had a different plan entirely. He wasn't there to destroy it; he was going to capture it.
Geto leapt onto the roof of a ruined home to survey the area from a higher vantage point. "I'm not sensing any cursed spirits, Satoru," he called down.
Gojo, still standing in the same spot, slid his glasses down his nose to let the Six Eyes work. "Same here. I can't see a thing either."
Shoko settled onto a piece of rubble and let out a sharp whistle. "Maybe you two should try looking for residues of positive energy instead of cursed energy."
Gojo focused harder, his eyes scanning the environment for any trace of the energy Shoko suggested. He saw nothing. "Stop talking crap, Shoko. There's nothing."
Shoko's smile widened into something devious. "I never said there was something, though... Ouch!"
Suddenly, a small, ant-like cursed spirit skittered out from behind the rubble and nipped her backside. "I simply couldn't help myself," the curse hissed in a grating voice. "I had to intervene in your lovey-dovey banter."
Geto projected his voice through the small curse, his actual body still perched smugly on the rooftop. Maybe the title of the most versatile technique belongs to me after all, rather than the Ten Shadows, he thought, a satisfied grin crossing his face.
"Gross!" "Idiot!"
Gojo and Shoko barked their insults in perfect, accidental synchronization. Geto only laughed harder, pointing down at them from his vantage point. "Hahaha! Look at that chemistry! Just get married already!"
Suddenly, a thunderous BOOM echoed through the landscape. All three snapped their heads toward the source of the blast.
Geto calmly pulled his hair back, securing it with the tie Shoko had given him. "So, there's our target," he said, his voice dropping into a low, serious tone. "And it's unexpectedly powerful at that."
Gojo lowered his glasses, his Six Eyes locking onto the massive energy signature in the distance. He finished the thought Geto left hanging: "Definitely a Special Grade."
High on a nearby mountain ridge, a colossal dragon-shaped curse threw its head back and let out a bone-rattling roar. Rawwwww
Geto couldn't suppress his grin if he tried. "The Rainbow Dragon... I've been hunting for this one since the moment I read about it in that old book. What was the title again?"
"The Legendary Cursed Spirits of Yamato," Shoko provided, exhaling a plume of smoke. "It's mentioned in the same breath as Kanashi Onna, the vengeful spirit."
Geto summoned a massive, winged cursed spirit, and the three of them leapt onto its back in a single fluid motion. "Shoko, hang on tight!" he commanded. In the next heartbeat, the spirit lunged forward, taking flight at breakneck speed.
From their vantage point in the sky, they looked down on a chaotic battlefield. A group of sorcerers was already engaged in a desperate struggle with the dragon.
To the right, a burly man unleashed a cursed technique that caused his fists to blur, magnifying them like missile, his strikes turned into a relentless barrage. To his left, another sorcerer slammed his palms into the earth; responding to his will, a pair of massive stone hands erupted from the ground, clawing at the sky to pin the Rainbow Dragon down.
Suddenly, a third man—a swordsman with a blade at his hip—leapt high into the air. He drew his weapon in a flash, slashing a trail of fire across the dragon's shimmering hide.
The three of them fought simultaneously, but without a shred of teamwork. They completely ignored each other's movements, each one greedily racing to be the one to claim the kill and exorcise the legendary spirit for themselves
But in the next heartbeat, the Rainbow Dragon let out a deafening roar. Its prismatic scales began to pulse with a blinding, iridescent light. BOOM. Every ounce of force from the sorcerers' attacks was instantly reflected, rebounding on them in a devastating shockwave.
"Fools!" Naobito Zenin spat, his eyes narrowing as he activated his Projection Sorcery.
The world slowed to a crawl as his technique divided a single second into twenty-four distinct frames. He darted through the frozen battlefield, weaving a precise path to snatch his subordinates out of harm's way before the blast could vaporize them. He fumed as he moved; the Zenin clan records explicitly stated that the Rainbow Dragon reflects all physical and cursed energy blows.
Who the hell do they think they are? he thought bitterly. The 'Ancestor Naruoko' Or that Monkey Toji? They are the only one he can think of who could afford to ignore the dragon's legend and overpower it through sheer brute force.
In the span of that single, fragmented second, Naobito hauled all three of them out of the blast zone. "Fools," he growled, his voice tight with irritation. "I'm confiscating one Grade One cursed tool from each of your personal collections for this."
But the reprieve was short-lived. The Rainbow Dragon, a gargantuan beast the size of a cruise vessel, swung its massive head in their direction. It didn't just redirect the reflected shockwave toward them; for good measure, it unhinged its jaws and unleashed a concentrated beam of its own cursed energy to finish the job.
The three sorcerers stared at the incoming wall of death, a single word escaping their lips in unison: "Fuck."
In the next heartbeat, a white-haired teen in a black school uniform materialized in front of them.
Then came the collision—a deafening BOOM followed by a blinding flash of white and blue light. Satoru Gojo laughed maniacally, standing as the literal boundary between the Zenin clan and certain death. The dragon's cursed energy roared and grinded against his Infinity, unable to affect anything or anyone. As the pressure peaked, his Six Eyes pulsed with a dangerous glow. He raised his hand, his fingers forming a gun-like posture as he gathered his energy into a single point.
"Phase. Pāramitā. Pillar of Light."
"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."
A swirling mass of repelling energy erupted from his fingertip. It was pure, unadulterated destruction. The blast tore through the air, vaporizing everything it touched and carving a massive trench into the earth as it roared toward the dragon.
"Is this... the power of a God?" 'Jinchi Zenin, user of Curse technique Missile fist 'whispered. He had always taken pride in his own destructive capabilities, but in front of Satoru Gojo, his strength looked like a child's toy.
"Gojo Satoru... the heir of the Gojo clan," Naobito Zenin muttered. The moment he saw that wall of energy grind to a halt without Gojo breaking a sweat, he knew he was looking at the Limitless. It was the legendary technique of the Gojo line, now wielded by a boy who possessed the perfect tool to master it: the Six Eyes.
Naobito felt a hot surge of jealousy. The Gojo clan had been blessed with a perfect miracle, while he was saddled with a foolish son who cowered at the sight of a "monkey" without a drop of cursed energy. Truly, he thought bitterly, heaven is not fair.
His dark thoughts were shattered by the sound of someone screaming at the top of their lungs.
"Dammit, Satoru! I told you not to kill my dragon!"
Naobito looked up to see another teen in the same black uniform, his hair tied back in a messy ponytail. He leapt from the back of a massive, eagle-like curse, plummeting through the air. To Naobito's horror, the boy landed directly in the path of the "Red" blast, standing between the destructive ball of repealing energy and the dragon.
"Is he insane?" Naobito hissed.
Suddenly, thousands of Grade 4 spirits and Fly-Heads erupted from the boy's position. They surged forward, knitting together into a dense, rotating sphere of cursed shadows that encased both the boy and the dragon, shielding them from the repelling force of the Limitless.
[ Curse technique extension: The "Ablative Armor" Swarm
A defensive technique developed by Suguru Geto to neutralize high-output attacks. Inspired by the heat shields of space shuttles and reactive tank armor, the swarm functions by distributing the force of an impact across thousands of sacrificial "cells."]
As Gojo's 'Red' collided with the outer shell, the individual Grade 4 spirits were vaporized instantly, but their collective mass bled the attack of its momentum. By the time the core of the blast reached Geto, its destructive energy had been utterly exhausted by the sheer density of the swarm.
Satoru understood the mechanic immediately—after all, they had theorized the strategy together during their downtime at Jujutsu High. Still, seeing it work so flawlessly against his own 'Red' was a shock.
Naobito, however, was paralyzed by confusion. He had just watched a teenager tank the most famous technique of the Gojo clan. Even more baffling was the why—the boy had risked his life not to save a person, but to protect a cursed spirit.
"'My dragon,' he called it... He's tamed it, or perhaps he has a way to command them like those fly-heads. A unique cursed technique..." Naobito let out a raspy, hysterical laugh. "Interesting. Very interesting!"
Gojo looked at the old man as if he were a senile fool, but Naobito stared back, unflinching. He was thrilled. Finally, he saw a potential counterweight to the Gojo clan's dominance. Heaven is fair after all, he thought.
After a minute, the dense sphere of spirits dissolved, the shadows bleeding back into the boy. Suguru stood there, his face a strange, contradictory mask of a grin and a scowl. Before anyone could speak, he moved. He started with a walk, shifted into a jog, and then broke into a full-speed sprint. He covered half a mile in under eight seconds, his final stride launching him with such force that the ground shattered into a crater.
BOOM.
The impact was a physical shockwave. The surrounding Zenin—Jinichi and Chojuro—were sent tumbling back, while Naobito used a frame of his Projection Sorcery to flick himself safely to the side.
Gojo had retracted his Infinity from the group, pulling it tight around his own body just in time to catch Suguru's strike. Geto's fist, overflowing with more cursed energy than ever before, slammed into the invisible barrier. The resulting pressure was so intense it vaporized the minor curses lingering nearby.
"Suguru, calm down!" Satoru said, his voice low and steady. His Six Eyes glowed, observing the turbulent, jagged flow of cursed energy swirling inside his friend.
"I am calm," Suguru panted, pulling his fist back and shaking his head to clear the haze. "The sudden increase of curse energy from the dragon... it makes me irritable. It happens sometimes."
"No problem," Satoru said, patting Geto's back with a grin. "Sorry about that. I got carried away. I'll find you an even better dragon for your collection, I promise."
"I'll hold you to that," Suguru smirked. "And don't worry. I captured it. I had to intervene because your 'Red.' is a perfect counter to its curse technique."
The sound of footsteps approached. Naobito and his elite unit—Jinichi, Chojuro, and Ragi—approached to offer their "gratitude."
"You must be the renowned Gojo Satoru... and his friends," Naobito said, pausing as a flying spirit landed nearby. Shoko jumped down, casually lighting a fresh cigarette. Naobito grunted, taking a mouthful of sake from his gourd. 'If this is how the youths are dressing and acting nowadays...'
Naobito offered a slight, stiff bow. Behind him, the others hesitated until he threw them a murderous "stink-eye," forcing them to follow suit. "Thank you for the intervention. The Zenin clan shall compensate the Gojo family and your companions satisfyingly for this favor."
"Oye, old man," Satoru said, his smile haughty and full of mockery like a bully. "Don't you think that bow was a little shallow for a life-saving favor?"
Geto promptly smacked the back of Satoru's head. "Please ignore him. We accept your gratitude."
Naobito's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Think nothing of it. We were here to 'practice,' but it seems my people failed to properly analyze the target's strength." He reached into his kimono and produced a thick envelope, handing it to Geto. "This is an invitation to my son's birthday celebration next week. I hope you and your friends can make time."
With a flick of his sleeves, Naobito turned and departed. Once they were out of earshot of the "monstrous brats," Jinichi frowned. "When the hell did we start celebrating Naoya's birthday with parties?"
Naobito replied briskly without looking back. "From today."
A black butterfly emerged from the shadows and landed on Naobito's sleeve, transforming into a classified report.
[ Name: Geto Suguru] [ Innate Technique: Cursed Spirit Manipulation]
(Description: - Cursed Spirit Manipulation is the pinnacle of absolute subjugation, an innate technique that transforms the user into a one-man army, allowing them to exorcise and command thousands of cursed spirits as if they were nothing more than tamed shikigami. The most perfect curse technique.)
Naobito read the file and smiled. He's destined for Special Grade status alongside the Gojo brat. He thought back to the friction—Geto punching at Gojo.
"Good. This is very good," Naobito muttered.
"Naobito-sama?" Chojuro asked, confused.
Naobito sighed, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "Gojo Satoru is a force of nature; the Zenin clan cannot contend with the Gojo clan through our strength alone. But if we can rope Geto Suguru into our orbit..."
Understanding dawned on Jinichi and the others. A dark, shared laughter erupted from the group as they disappeared into the trees. """Hahahahahahahahah!"""
---------------------------------------------------------