"We need external power." Kenjaku continued, his fingertips gently stroking the smooth inner wall of the shell.
"And currently, the most suitable and likely variable is—Sukuna."
At the mention of that name, Jogo's single eye flickered, Mahito's sand-drawing paused slightly, and even the plants cycling through life and death beneath Hanami's feet stagnated for a brief moment.
"Sukuna..."
Jogo's voice was low and raspy, carrying a complex emotion—a mix of instinctive dread toward the strong, an evaluation of a peer, and a faint, perhaps even unconscious, yearning for greater power.
"That guy... is indeed different. The traces left at the Juvenile Detention Center... it was an absolute one-sided slaughter. Even though that trash Curse was an incomplete product, it reached Special Grade level after swallowing a finger, yet it was..."
He didn't finish, but the meaning was clear.
That kind of overwhelming, destructive power was equally impressive.
Kenjaku added with a heavy tone, "What's even more impressive is that Sukuna had a brief clash with Gojo. Although we interrupted it midway, Sukuna was clearly in the lead. At that time, he likely only had the power of a few fingers at his disposal."
The air on the beach seemed to stagnate further.
To be able to confront Satoru with the power of only a few fingers...
"Twenty fingers... the King of Curses at his peak..."
Mahito stopped playing and tilted his head, the smile formed by his stitches widening as his eyes filled with a child-like, pure curiosity and cruel excitement.
"What kind of terrifying being would that be? Just thinking about it makes me tremble with excitement. Won't he be more interesting than Gojo? More free?"
Kenjaku nodded slightly, confirming Jogo's speculation and responding to Mahito's excitement.
But in his deep eyes, a very subtle hint of doubt flickered—one that seemed slightly inconsistent with the current topic.
Indeed, Sukuna's power at his peak was on a completely different level.
Kenjaku's brow furrowed imperceptibly—an extremely rare expression for him.
But now, Sukuna was strong to a degree that he found somewhat incomprehensible.
A thousand years of sealing and slumber usually causes power to drain or stagnate. But Sukuna... he was many times stronger than he had been a thousand years ago.
The current Sukuna was even more unpredictable, and even more dangerous.
"That is only natural. How could Sukuna-sama's strength be something you lot can comprehend?"
As the words fell, a white-haired monk appeared—it was Sukuna's follower, Uraume.
In Uraume's logical world, Sukuna was an ultimate individual that was constantly self-perfecting and infinitely approaching perfection.
Sukuna from a thousand years ago was powerful, but that was merely one stage of his endless power.
A thousand-year seal?
That was merely a golden opportunity that allowed Sukuna to become even more powerful without being disturbed.
They automatically attributed any change in Sukuna that could not be explained by common logic to Sukuna's own unfathomable wisdom and power.
Sukuna becoming stronger and mastering new abilities was not an "anomaly" to be investigated, but a natural inevitability.
Just as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and rain falls from the sky, it was a fundamental law of the universe.
"So for the plan in a few days, on one hand, we will trap a large number of ordinary people inside a Curtain. This is not for a massacre, but to create chaos, divert attention, and tie down the strength of the Jujutsu Sorcerers."
"I will control the Curtains covering Shibuya. Each layer will have different entry conditions to divide the battlefield, isolate Gojo from his support, and lead the people we need to their designated positions."
"When Gojo is exhausted, I will use the Prison Realm to trap him."
"At the same time, Jogo, you and the others will deliver the fingers to Sukuna and facilitate his resurrection."
"In case we fail, we will still have Sukuna standing in front to deal with Gojo."
— — —
October 31st, Halloween night in Shibuya. It should have been filled with the noise of masquerade parties and the splendor of lights. However, at exactly 7:00 PM that night, disaster descended without warning.
Centered on Shibuya Station, an incredibly massive Curtain suddenly fell. Like an inverted giant bowl, it instantly isolated the entire intersection and surrounding areas—along with tens of thousands of ordinary citizens inside—from the outside world.
Alarms, gasps, and cries were distorted and suppressed. Only a suffocating sense of deathly silence faintly emanated through the barrier of the Curtain.
This was by no means a Curtain that an ordinary Jujutsu Sorcerer could set up. Its structural complexity, immense strength, vast coverage, and the precise rules contained within it—specifically targeting Satoru—had reached a terrifying degree.
In terms of mastery of barrier techniques, aside from Tengen, who is assimilated with Japan's barrier system, probably only the Curse User who orchestrated all this and has lived for a thousand years—Kenjaku—could achieve this.
The Curtain was not a single isolation. Its interior was like a complex labyrinth, divided into multiple independent yet vaguely connected battlefields by even finer barriers.
The purpose was clear: to divide, pin down, and create chaos, especially to exhaust that one and only greatest threat—Gojo Satoru.
Almost the instant the Curtain fell, a white figure ignored the conventional entrance and forcibly broke into the interior of the barrier, as if tearing through cloth.
Satoru stood in the square in front of the chaotic Shibuya Station, his Six Eyes behind his sunglasses scanning and analyzing the entire barrier's structure and internal distribution at a speed surpassing a computer.
"Quite the grand gesture." He clicked his tongue, his tone neither admiring nor mocking.
The Six Eyes instantly fed back a massive amount of information.
Countless ordinary people trapped on various floors and passages, fleeing in terror.
A large number of low-level Cursed Spirits and Transfigured Humans controlled by Curse Users creating slaughter and panic in the crowd.
And deeper in, several powerful Special Grade Cursed Spirit auras were as obvious as lighthouses. They seemed to be consciously driving and guiding the crowd to create even greater chaos, while also seeming to be... waiting for him.
"Thinking of using these people as hostages to tie my hands?" Satoru snorted coldly.
"Nice idea, but unfortunately, you picked the wrong opponent."
He moved. His figure turned into a bolt of white lightning invisible to the naked eye, weaving through the crowded, chaotic throng. Wherever he passed, those Cursed Spirits and Transfigured Humans committing crimes were instantly crushed into dust as if run over by an invisible giant hammer. He wasn't killing blindly, his Six Eyes precisely distinguished every target, ensuring no innocents were harmed, while efficiently clearing safety passages and guiding the crowd to evacuate to relatively safe areas.
But the enemies were too numerous, and the layout was too cunning. Whenever he finished clearing the threats in one area and prepared to go deeper, a more piercing scream and stronger Cursed Energy fluctuations would come from another direction, forcing him to turn back for rescue.
He was like a giant elephant entangled by countless threads. His power was immense, yet he was pulled by tiny forces from all directions, his rhythm of action disrupted and his energy rapidly consuming.