Shoko immediately buried her face in her hands, her shoulders betraying her with laughter. Satoru, on the other hand, massaged his temples intensely, suppressing any sound of laughter.
"Okay, okay," I raised my hands in surrender, "sorry, but what kind of weirdo is this? Four arms, King of Curses… Did he have anything else special?"
"Two faces," Satoru said, eyes on the ground.
"… He's just getting creepier and creepier… And you just said it's better he doesn't get reincarnated. When did he live?"
"Around a thousand years ago," Satoru mentioned, "and he wiped out almost all jujutsu sorcerers and wasn't called the King of Curses for nothing. No one could stand against him. No one had been able to defeat him. His cursed energy is on a level that might match my own."
"So," I began to conclude with disgust, "this finger is about a thousand years old? Belongs to the King of Curses, who wiped out all sorcerers back then and now just wanders the world as a cursed object finger and could be reincarnated at any time?!"
"Exactly," Shoko confirmed, crossing her arms over her chest.
Now at least I could understand why they were so tense. Just the thought of what it must have been like back then sent a shiver down my spine. And getting acquainted with him? No, thank you. I could do without that. I could tell that Satoru, as always, was fearless and probably even superior to him despite the title, but still, I wasn't entirely comfortable.
And that wasn't just because of the immense, underlying atmosphere of fear that hung over us like a heavy blanket.
There was still something left unsaid. They were hiding something! Especially Satoru. We were talking about the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, sitting next to me on a high-voltage power line.
"Then let's hope no one wants to reincarnate Sukuna," I mused.
Defeated. I didn't feel like I could coax anything more out of them with further questions. Even if I wanted to—but something inside me screamed to just let it be.