This time, the upper echelons dispatched a large number of people. Representatives from both Jujutsu High campuses and the three major clans had all arrived.
Naobito Zenin, the current Head of the Zenin Clan, was also among them.
The faculty and students of Tokyo Jujutsu High had shown up in full force.
However, most of them remained on standby outside the first Barrier, tasked with handling the Cursed Spirits and Curse Users that Satoru Gojo missed.
Meanwhile, some sorcerers had arrived early and already entered the Barrier. Their job was to dismantle the outer Curtain.
...
Riko Amanai was sprinting across the rooftop. It was nighttime, and the city below was brightly lit. Her movements were smooth and fluid—she had already stepped into her element.
The Special Grade-level Cursed Energy within her body allowed her to unleash her techniques without restraint.
She leapt from the rooftop and landed on the outer wall of a nearby building. Defying the laws of physics, her feet clung to the wall as if rooted in place. Step by step, she walked up the vertical surface, reaching the rooftop—the very top of the Shibuya Hikarie building.
This was her destination.
The Curse Users she was after were hiding up here, and she had already pinpointed their exact locations.
But she couldn't act yet. She concealed herself in the shadows.
She was waiting for the right moment.
The Curse Users were also vigilantly scanning their surroundings, ready to scatter at the slightest disturbance.
They were waiting for the same moment.
...
Fifth basement level.
Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto had successfully passed through the third Barrier.
Suspended midair, the two surveyed their surroundings briefly before landing on the train tracks—where all the other Disasters, except Dagon, had gathered.
The two sides faced off.
Countless roots spread upward, sealing off the sky and further tightening the space.
Jogo's expression darkened. Another human sorcerer had joined the fight, and from him, Jogo could sense a technique suppressing cursed energy.
Not friendly toward Cursed Spirits at all.
He shot a glance at Satoru Gojo beside him. This was bad. The fact that those two knew each other said a lot.
Only those on the same level could stand together.
Jogo placed his right hand behind his back and discreetly tapped his fingertips, sending a message to Kenjaku.
"Backup's on the way," Kenjaku replied lazily.
"Hang in there."
"Tch, easy for you to say." Jogo looked up at the two Special Grades. Knowing Kenjaku was unreliable, he exchanged a glance with his ally, turned his palms outward, and flames burst forth.
At the same time, Mahito seemed to lose all weight and floated toward Satoru Gojo. The approach looked slow but was lightning-fast. In an instant, his arm had morphed into a blade aimed straight at Gojo's forehead.
"Hee~" Mahito cackled midair.
The blade tip stopped just short of Gojo. "Knew I couldn't touch you," Mahito laughed, unbothered, and drifted backward. His right hand reached out—
Smack!
The sound of a palm slapping a shoulder echoed.
His right hand came to rest on Suguru Geto's shoulder. "Gotcha."
What surprised Mahito was that the sorcerer didn't panic at all.
'Does he not know how my technique works?'
'No... impossible.'
Mahito dismissed the thought.
'Humans have long studied their own technique intel, so then...'
A faint smirk tugged at Suguru Geto's lips. His technique, Cursed Spirit Manipulation, also required physical contact with Cursed Spirits.
Who caught who? Hard to say.
Both were Special Grades—one manipulating souls, the other manipulating Cursed Spirits themselves. It all came down to who understood their technique better.
Special Grades never lacked confidence.
They both laughed.
The moment they touched, the immense pressure hit, and they both knew what they were dealing with. Their shoulders and hands quickly separated as they each backed off.
Nearby, Satoru Gojo had already started fighting Jogo and Hanami.
After a brief clash—
The Disasters weren't doing well. They immediately changed tactics, weaving through the crowd and launching surprise attacks.
Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto didn't look so good either.
There were too many people.
Too many ordinary people. They couldn't see the curses. All they saw was the carnage around them—people dying horrific deaths.
Some burst into flames and were incinerated in seconds.
Some were slashed apart by invisible forces, their limbs flying, bodies torn apart.
Some screamed in agony, their bodies grotesquely swelling and shrinking, morphing into monsters before attacking others. Those attacked... well, there was no need to say more.
It was total chaos.
Gojo and Geto fought amid the turmoil. The Disasters used the crowd as cover. The space was already tight, and with people scrambling everywhere, the gap between the sorcerers and the Disasters was both inches away—and miles apart.
They couldn't even land a hit.
"A Barrier has trapped these civilians. Geto, you go break it—I'll handle things here."
Suguru Geto swept a glance around. The ones surrounding him were mostly twisted, grotesque creatures. He had seen it himself—these had once been ordinary people, but with just a light touch from that Cursed Spirit, they had been transformed into these monstrous forms.
His brow furrowed. These things were still human—just mutated. His technique couldn't affect them, and even the Cursed Spirits he summoned were being held back.
Most of these strange humans could only launch one or two attacks before their bodies shriveled, as if their lifespans had reached their end. Within a few breaths, they truly died.
The streets on Halloween night were packed with young people.
That Cursed Spirit was trading lifespan for power—boosting the strength of these monsters at the cost of their lives. One or two blows, and they'd age into death. That kind of attack hit hard—both physically and psychologically.
"Be careful." With just those words, the Cursed Spirits he had summoned began a cautious retreat. At the same time, new ones were summoned to fill the gaps, one after another, endlessly.
Humans had shrunk their battlefield, and now Geto was doing the same to the Disasters, using Cursed Spirits to push back.
He didn't expect the spirits to show loyalty to their kind, but with this many, even if they were just weeds, they could still keep cutting for a while.
Techniques that manipulated souls couldn't easily influence spirits under the control of Cursed Spirit Manipulation.
That was what he'd tested in their earlier clash.
The Disaster's expression darkened, and Mahito—unwilling to let Geto leave so easily—ordered the mutated humans to give chase.
Satoru Gojo's figure flickered. He took the chance to close in on Mahito, pulling with gravity, then blasting with repulsion. Mahito couldn't resist—he instantly broke apart into countless tiny versions of himself, scattering, then regrouping in the distance to widen the gap between him and Gojo.
But in doing so, the mutants lost their target.
Sweat beaded on Mahito's brow. The pressure was mounting—he couldn't afford to be distracted again.
The two sides stood locked in a tense standoff. No one dared make the first move.
"I can't get out."
Geto's voice came through the Cursed Spirits to the platform—low and thick, as if tinged with blood.
He was now on the fourth basement level, facing an invisible barrier. Neither he nor the spirits under his command could break through.
Outside the curtain trapping the civilians was a second layer—one that blocked entry for any sorcerer below Special Grade. Inside, it was reversed: once in, you couldn't leave.
A Barrier this powerful had to involve extremely strict Binding Vows. The Curse User who cast it likely couldn't enter either—which meant the Key was probably outside.
Brute force alone wasn't going to break it anytime soon.
...
Geto fell silent. These people had planned for everything.
"Wouldn't you say so, Sōjun!"
All the Cursed Spirits on the platform froze. At the same time, they turned, eyes twisted in rage, staring down the Disaster.
The situation turned even more brutal.
"Get rid of those spirits first..." Geto turned back, preparing to return.
"Geto."
A familiar voice suddenly rang out behind him. He froze mid-step.
"How...?"
He barely had time to glance back. Just a flash of white caught the edge of his vision.
"...Bandages?"
His consciousness began to blur.
The spirits on the platform spiraled out of control, launching indiscriminate attacks against friend and foe alike.
Gojo sensed something was wrong. His gaze swept across the rampaging spirits, but instead of reacting, his expression remained utterly calm—still, like deep spring water.
He raised two fingers to his lips...
"Kamo! If backup doesn't show up soon, we're pulling out!" Jogo sent a message to Kenjaku in a rush.
"They're already here."
"Unlimited Void—"
Boom!
A thunderous explosion rocked the ceiling above the platform. The steel framework shattered, and the roots Hanami had set across it were ripped apart. Rubble rained down, and a surge of Cursed Energy burst forth.
The Special Grades instinctively looked up, hearing the roar.
But the non-sorcerers could still see it. Instinct made them cover their heads—yet curiosity made them glance up, toward the source of the noise.
Through the drifting dust, a shadowy figure slowly emerged, standing atop a twisted steel beam left hanging from the broken ceiling.
A faint gray mist swirled around him. His tall, imposing silhouette—and the full moon behind him, visible through the gaping hole—struck awe into every heart.
Huh?
Why... is there a moon?
At that moment, the same figure appeared in everyone's minds—clear and unforgettable.
On the bandages, probably where the corner of his mouth should've been, a fold twitched slightly into a smirk.
Everyone stared at that figure, frozen in awe.