Sukuna's declaration of return struck the ruins of Shibuya like a heavy hammer, and it also struck the hearts of every being capable of understanding its significance.
The air was thick, a suffocating mixture of blood, gunpowder smoke, and that newborn, overwhelming cursed pressure.
After a brief, dead silence, the reactions were starkly different.
"Ha... Haha... Hahahaha!!!"
Jogo's volcanic head suddenly erupted with a large plume of searing smoke and lava. The gloom and fury that had clouded his single eye due to Satoru's escape and the failure of the Prison Realm were now replaced by a near-manic joy.
He looked at the four-armed Sukuna floating in the sky. Feeling that terrifying Cursed Energy far beyond comprehension, he couldn't help but laugh out loud, his voice hoarse and piercing.
"It worked! The plan didn't fail!"
Jogo waved his burning arms, pointing at Sukuna as he shouted to the solemn-faced Kenjaku and the bewildered Hanami and Mahito.
"Do you see?! This is the 'external force' we need! With Sukuna, what's Gojo? What's Jujutsu High? They're all vulnerable! Our era... the era of Cursed Spirits is bound to come!"
He was immersed in his own ecstasy and worship of absolute power, as if Sukuna's appearance was a guarantee of victory for the Cursed Spirit side.
However, in stark contrast to Jogo's ecstasy was Kenjaku's face, which was extremely dark.
The stitches on his forehead twitched slightly, revealing the violent fluctuations within his heart.
Beyond being shocked by Sukuna's extraordinary power, there was a deeper, cold sense of alarm.
'This monster... he is far stronger than estimated and...'
Kenjaku's gaze met Sukuna's four crimson eyes for a moment—eyes that scanned casually without a hint of cooperation and the chill in his heart deepened.
'He is by no means a pawn who will follow orders or be content with being used.'
Sure enough, before Kenjaku could even try to lead or negotiate, a voice rang out with undisguised mockery.
"Hey, Volcano Head, aren't you celebrating a bit too early?"
At some point, Satoru had already settled comfortably onto a piece of broken rebar. Resting his chin on one hand, he watched the ecstatic Jogo below with great interest, then glanced at the indifferent Sukuna in the air, that usual, infuriatingly cheeky smile plastered on his face.
He gestured toward Sukuna with his chin. "Do you really think he is the reinforcement you invited, or just an obedient thug?"
He wagged a finger, his tone light yet piercing. "Use that stone brain of yours and think for a second. That's the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna. An ultimate monster famous for acting on a whim and finding pleasure in slaughter even a thousand years ago."
"Do you think he'll slave away for you out of gratitude just because you helped pick up a few fingers? There's a limit to how much you should dream, okay?"
Satoru's words were like a bucket of cold water poured over Jogo's heated head. They also caused Hanami's aura to stiffen slightly, and the excited smile on Mahito's face faded a bit, replaced by a thoughtful expression.
Just then, Sukuna's voice sounded. It wasn't a response to Jogo's ecstasy, nor a rebuttal to Satoru's mockery, but a proclamation carrying pure playfulness and condescension.
"I am in a good mood today."
Sukuna crossed his four arms over his chest, his four crimson eyes drooping lazily as his gaze swept over Jogo, Hanami, Mahito, and Dagon, who had just fully emerged from the shadows with a relatively weaker aura, before finally passing over the battle-ready Kenjaku and the seemingly relaxed but fully alert Satoru.
The corners of Sukuna's lips curled into a cruel arc. "Considering you small fry scraped together most of my fingers, I will give you a chance."
He extended a finger (from his upper right arm) and pointed at the four battle-ready Special Grade Cursed Spirits.
"The four of you can come at me together or one by one. Use your strongest moves, cursed techniques, Domains, whatever."
He paused, the malice in his crimson eyes almost overflowing.
"As long as you can land a single hit on me, even if it's just a scratch, I will help you out. For instance, I'll conveniently crush that noisy Six Eyes brat over there, or clear out these bothersome human Jujutsu Sorcerers. How about it? Quite a bargain, isn't it?"
As soon as he said this, everyone was stunned.
Land one hit, and he'll help?
The condition sounded so simple it was almost a joke, but combined with the absolute strength Sukuna had just shown by shattering the Curtain in one blow and his wicked personality, everyone knew this was no gift, but a gamble.
If they lost, they would die.
Hearing this, the four Cursed Spirits reacted differently.
Jogo's single eye widened in anger as flames surged, feeling both the fury of being belittled and a stir of agitation at being tempted by the "chance."
Although he couldn't defeat Sukuna, landing a single hit shouldn't be a problem. The gap shouldn't be that large.
Hanami remained silent, the plants around him trembling slightly.
Mahito licked his lips, his eyes a mix of excitement and caution. He loved games, but he was well aware of how terrifying the "dealer" before him was.
Meanwhile, Dagon, who had previously had a relatively weak presence and had been lurking in the shadows and pools of blood, had the most violent reaction.
"Heh... Heh heh..." Dagon let out an indistinct, eerie laugh, like the wheezing of a drowning man.
His body, covered in slime, began to swell and distort violently. He suddenly opened his massive maw, not at Sukuna, but toward a patch of ruins to the side, where a large number of ordinary citizens killed in the previous chaos were piled, along with a dense concentration of death and fear-based curses that had yet to dissipate.
"Blargh—"
A large mass of viscous filth—a mixture of countless pale human bone fragments, organ remains, undigested flesh, and thick black mud of curses—gushed out of Dagon's mouth like a fountain, drenching that mountain of corpses and sea of blood.
"What?!"
The relaxed smile Satoru had been wearing vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, tangible killing intent. His Six Eyes clearly "saw" the shocking number of bone fragments. This was definitely not something that could be accumulated in a short time.
"You piece of trash... just how many people have you eaten?" Satoru's voice was incredibly cold, and the air around him distorted due to the sudden surge in Cursed Energy.
He had been so busy saving people and dealing with Special Grade Curses that he hadn't noticed this seemingly weaker Cursed Spirit secretly carrying out such appalling slaughter and consumption.
Facing Satoru's killing intent and Sukuna's playful gaze, Dagon acted as if he hadn't heard a thing. He frantically devoured and spat out the "nourishment" mixed with countless lives and curses, his body rapidly swelling and deforming like a balloon.
The slime receded, revealing a more hideous red shell underneath, covered in bone armor and barbs. His form evolved from a hunch to standing upright, sharp bone spikes sprouted from his back, and his head became like that of a ferocious deep-sea monster fish, with crimson eyes and interlocking fangs in a giant maw.
The Special Grade Cursed Spirit, Dagon, after devouring the nourishment and fear of the many dead in Shibuya, evolved at this moment into a more terrifying form with skyrocketing Cursed Energy—his Perfect Form.
The pressure he emitted instantly climbed, almost reaching the level of Jogo and Hanami, and it carried a ferocious aura of drowning and deep chill.
The battle seemed imminent. However, at this moment in the center of Shibuya, the situation presented an extremely eerie and complex four-way standoff.
On one side was the newly evolved and aggressive Dagon, along with Jogo, Hanami, and Mahito—who, despite their wariness, were driven by the "opportunity" and their own pride.
The four Special Grade Cursed Spirits had a temporary unified goal: hit Sukuna once.
On another side was Kenjaku, the conspirator who had taken over Suguru's body and had stitches on his forehead.
On the surface, he was silent, but his brain was calculating frantically. Sukuna's proposal had disrupted his rhythm. He was unpredictable, and once things went out of control, the consequences would be unimaginable.
He needed to observe, to re-evaluate Sukuna's true purpose and power, and at the critical moment, maximize his own interests.
The third party was Satoru, sitting on the broken wall, seemingly relaxed but having already raised his state to battle-ready.
He was happy to watch Sukuna and the Cursed Spirits fight like dogs, but he didn't relax in the slightest. He didn't believe Sukuna would truly help the Cursed Spirits, but he believed even less that Sukuna would help him.
Sukuna was the greatest source of chaos and threat, independent of all factions.
He had to protect the survivors and arriving companions who might be caught in the crossfire, while also being wary of any moves from Sukuna and Kenjaku.
The fourth party, standing above the other three like a referee or a final boss, was the four-armed Sukuna floating in the air, composed and ready.