"If you've got the guts, then come."
At this moment, Mirai's role was akin to that of a stage manager—quietly correcting a script that had begun to drift off course, guiding it back to where it was meant to be.
Let Kenjaku awaken the sorcerers from a thousand years ago, and set up ten barriers vast enough to cover half of Japan.
The Culling Game… was the beginning of Mirai's ascent to the throne.
The necessary path to godhood.
Deviations in the plot didn't matter—violence was the most efficient way to correct them.
"Scram."
A single, emotionless word—flat and calm, yet it struck like thunder in the ears.
Jogo stiffly turned around. His terrified single eye met those utterly indifferent eyes.
Like a human glancing down at an ant crawling by their feet…
Life or death—it made no difference.
Just as Jogo viewed ordinary humans.
As a newly born "human," the last shred of his dignity was trampled.
Jogo lowered his body and burst forward, lightning-fast, dashing toward the upper level.
There was no emotion—only reason.
The desperate cry of his survival instinct forced his body into motion.
"Mirai… bro…"
Maki spoke instinctively, her lips parting, but no words followed.
Should she ask why he sealed Satoru Gojo?
Or beg him to release Gojo?
Nanami, Fushiguro, and the others were the same.
Faced with an opponent of this level…
What could they do besides remain silent and wait?
They had no power to shake the heavens like ants.
Ignoring them, Mirai turned to White Zetsu and spoke calmly:
"I don't care about your personal feelings."
"But keep a close watch on those three."
Fights like the one White Zetsu had earlier—even Domain Expansions—
Made it impossible to simultaneously monitor the barrier-wide surveillance.
As the overseer of the stage, Mirai controlled the overall flow.
White Zetsu, meanwhile, acted as the acting coach—stepping in to correct any "side performances" that might go off track.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," White Zetsu replied with clear annoyance.
The three Mirai referred to were: Kenjaku, Itadori, and Mahito.
One for vigilance.
The latter two needed to grow—and if necessary, be protected.
Mirai had already made this clear before.
His gaze briefly lingered on Fushiguro and Maki.
Then, with a light step, he vanished into the void.
Underground Level 2 — Subway Ticket Gate
Tch.
The floors and walls were carved with countless thin slashes, still stained with fresh crimson blood.
In a flickering, dim corner—
Yuji Itadori lay collapsed, unconscious and on the brink of death.
Jogo gripped Yuji's jaw and forced ten of Sukuna's fingers down his throat at once.
If cursed spirits were to stand above all…
If curses were to become the true rulers of this world…
Then they had to eliminate that monster—Zenin Mirai.
Jogo placed all his final hope on the King of Curses sealed within Yuji.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Nanako and Mimiko emerging from the flames.
He prepared to finish them off—
But suddenly froze.
He stared blankly at his right wrist.
A clean, severed wound.
Purple blood flowed silently.
Then came the delayed surge of pain—
And from within Yuji's body, an overwhelming wave of cursed energy erupted.
The body known as Yuji Itadori slowly rose to its feet.
In Jogo's trembling eye, he saw the black markings on Yuji's face—
And the four eyes that looked down upon all existence with contempt.
This… was Sukuna.
The sheer pressure—like being crushed by something from another dimension—
Made it hard for the two girls and the curse to even breathe.
Cold sweat poured down instantly.
Their survival instincts screamed.
Jogo reflexively shifted beside Nanako and Mimiko.
Unlike Gojo Satoru or Zenin Mirai—
Sukuna's existence radiated a kind of evil that made the soul itself tremble.
"Your head… is held too high."
Sukuna brushed aside his bangs with one hand and spoke indifferently.
Nanako and Mimiko, supporting each other—
Jogo, trembling—
All three immediately dropped to their knees.
The next second—
BOOM!!!
They looked up in stunned disbelief—
At a massive hole blown open above them.
From Underground Level 2, they could see straight through to the sky beyond the barrier.
The Sukuna they feared so deeply—
Had been blasted clean out of the subway platform by a colossal shikigami bearing a glowing magic circle above its head.
Step… step…
Under the flickering lights, a pair of blood-red eyes slowly approached.
Jogo staggered backward.
Nanako and Mimiko beside him were swallowed by an invisible space.
Their fate unknown.
Jogo stared at the figure before him—
His pupils shaking violently.
Zenin Mirai.
"Let's change locations."
"This place is too quiet to serve as a graveyard."
With a single step—
The wind roared.
By the time Jogo came to his senses, in less than a millisecond, they were already atop a steel skyscraper.
His gaze flickered toward the slender fingers resting on his shoulder—
His heart turned ice-cold.
"So this… is where I die…"
Meeting those cold, blood-red eyes—
Jogo understood his end.
But even so—
BOOM!!!
Flames capable of incinerating a human to ash erupted from the top of the building down to the ground below!
Like a rocket detonating in the heart of the city—
The towering blaze lit up all of Shibuya in an instant!
"AAAAAH!!!"
There were around thirty thousand civilians trapped in Shibuya.
Only a handful could even see curses.
But this explosion—
It felt like a terrorist attack.
Panic spread faster.
Crowds fled like swarms of ants, desperately escaping the burning tower.
Rooftop
Jogo breathed heavily—
Partly from his earlier burst of power,
But more from the crushing pressure of Mirai's presence.
He stared at the figure standing atop the flames—
Untouched.
Mirai narrowed his eyes slightly, arms spread wide.
A void opened beside him, greedily devouring the cursed energy filling the barrier—
And the negative emotions of the fleeing crowds.
Those emotions fed into his crimson left eye.
The faint warmth—
The subtle pleasure—
Brought a hint of satisfaction to his expression.
That was why he brought Jogo here instead of killing him instantly.
Jogo's only remaining value—
Was to create fear.
That last attack—
How many died?
Three hundred? Four hundred?
Tilting his head, Mirai smiled at Jogo.
"Come on. One last performance."
Seeing Jogo on the brink of despair, Mirai added:
"I won't phase out of your next attack."
"This is your only chance to hurt me. Don't waste it."
The deaths of ordinary humans meant nothing to him.
But the terror Jogo created—
That, he found pleasing.
Jogo silently gathered every last drop of cursed energy within him.
Truth or lie—it didn't matter.
Refusing meant death.
Better to try—
Maybe he could wound this monster, even once.
The grand cause of cursed spirits…
I won't live to see it…
With death in his heart, Jogo twisted his face in fury—
Forcing out every ounce of his power!
A terrifying surge of cursed energy shot into the sky!
His final attack—
Carrying all his hope—
Blazed with a piercing red light!
"Maximum Technique: Limit—!!!"