Less than ten hours remained until the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons was set to sweep across Japan.
It was the dead of night before the storm.
Before the dilapidated shrine on the back mountain of Tokyo Jujutsu High, a place abandoned for years where only the occasional crow circled dead trees.
Yoru sat alone, silently, on the moss-covered, broken stone steps.
In his hand was a can of carbonated soda, recently purchased from a Jujutsu High vending machine, still emitting wisps of cold air.
"*Psh—*"
The tab was pulled back, releasing a crisp hiss of gas.
In the silence of the night, where even a pin drop could be heard, the sound was exceptionally sharp.
Yoru tilted his head back and took a sip of the icy soda, letting the stinging carbonation explode in his throat.
His gaze pierced through the layers of night, seemingly watching the karma and destiny of this world that ordinary people could not see.
Just then.
"*Crunch... crunch... crunch...*"
A series of extremely faint footsteps, yet carrying an undeniable weight and fatigue, slowly approached from the shadows below the shrine.
Yoru did not look back.
Even the broken Shiranui at his waist, its black cloth seal already removed and ready to drink blood, did not emit a single hum.
"Coming to such a gloomy, run-down place in the middle of the night."
"Yoru, we haven't seen each other in ten years. How did you pick up such a weird habit of getting nostalgic?"
A familiar, raspy voice followed the words.
Wearing his gojo-kesa and his signature bun, Suguru Geto slowly stepped out from the shadows.
There was no murderous intent.
Nor was there an army of cursed spirits in wait.
At this most critical moment before the decisive battle, these two who should have been mortal enemies met in this desolate wilderness like old friends who hadn't seen each other in years.
"Nostalgic?"
Yoru turned his head to look at Suguru Geto, who walked up and sat down on the steps beside him.
"Perhaps."
"After all, on the night of the Jujutsu High festival ten years ago, the three of us sat right here and decided on that world-shaking plan."
Yoru casually picked up another unopened can of soda from beside him and tossed it toward Suguru Geto.
Suguru Geto caught the soda steadily, looked down at the familiar packaging, and a bitter, slightly crazed smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Ten years..."
"Yoru, you haven't changed at all."
"You still have that punchable face, looking like you could tear a hole in the sky at any moment while keeping everyone guessing how deep your power goes."
Suguru Geto pulled the tab and took a large gulp of the soda.
"And I..."
He looked at his palms, which appeared exceptionally pale under the moonlight, as if they still held the lingering screams of countless vengeful spirits.
"I have become a most evil curse user with blood on my hands, someone the entire jujutsu world wants dead."
"Yoru, sometimes I really can't tell."
Suguru Geto turned his head, his narrow eyes bloodshot and filled with a profound gloom from years of consuming cursed spirits.
"Over these ten years, was I acting just to draw out Kenjaku for the plan?"
"Or..."
"Have I actually become a madman who wants to slaughter every last monkey?"
Hearing this confession from Suguru Geto, who seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown.
A look of extreme complexity flickered in Yoru's deep red eyes.
He knew all too well how much pain Suguru Geto had endured over the last decade.
Every day, he swallowed those foul-smelling cursed spirits like he was eating excrement, and every day he walked among malicious ordinary people.
He even had to maintain his persona as an evil curse user by ruthlessly killing monkeys who truly deserved it.
This kind of mental torture would have driven even a god insane.
"You've gone too deep, Suguru."
Yoru looked at Suguru Geto, his tone devoid of blame, carrying only deep helplessness and a sigh.
"You pushed yourself too hard in this performance."
"Hard enough that even that idiot Satoru has truly developed the intent to kill you in his heart."
"If he finds an opening on the Shinjuku battlefield tomorrow, he will definitely kill you without hesitation."
At the mention of Satoru, Suguru Geto's body stiffened slightly.
But soon, a smile of relief spread across his gloom-ridden face.
"Is that so?"
"That's... wonderful."
Suguru Geto crushed the aluminum can in his hand and tossed it into the nearby bushes.
"If I truly lose control in this mire tomorrow and become a monster that even I find disgusting..."
Suguru Geto looked at Yoru, a desperate resolve shimmering in his eyes, almost like a plea.
"Then let Satoru, or you..."
"...kill me with your own hands."
"That would be the most perfect release for me."
Yoru fell silent.
He didn't answer Suguru Geto's request, merely watching the horizon where the first hint of dawn was beginning to break.
"Stop talking like it's your funeral."
"That old fox Kenjaku has completely taken the bait."
Yoru stood up, re-attaching the broken Shiranui to his waist.
The terrifyingly pure sword intent belonging to Yoriichi Tsugikuni, which had been deliberately suppressed, finally erupted at this moment like a rising sun before the old shrine!
"Tomorrow's script will proceed exactly according to plan."
Yoru looked down at Suguru Geto.
"You're in charge of tying up the high-level cannon fodder in Shinjuku and Kyoto. Make as much noise as possible."
"As for Yuta's side, you can go all out."
"As long as you don't actually deal a killing blow, the Rika inside that kid will definitely be a handful for you."
A cold, murderous curve tugged at the corner of Yoru's mouth.
"I'll be watching personally."
"If that old bastard Kenjaku really dares to jump out and try to reap the rewards at this time..."
"I guarantee it."
"That thousand-year-old stinking brain of his won't survive past tomorrow's sunset!"
Suguru Geto looked at the black-haired youth before him, who appeared like an Asura descended to earth, and felt the terrifying pressure that made even the Special Grade cursed spirits within him tremble.
He finally couldn't help but let out a low, hearty laugh.
After his laughter subsided, Suguru Geto pulled a black bead emitting a faint cursed energy pulse from his wide kesa sleeve and threw it to Yoru.
"This is the shared vision of one of my Semi-Grade 1 scouting cursed spirits."
Suguru Geto's expression turned solemn once more.
"Over these ten years, by constantly absorbing cursed spirits, I have finally narrowed down the three secret hideouts that the stitched-faced man frequents most."
"Once I launch the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons tomorrow, he will surely hide in one of those spots to observe the situation."
"The rest is up to you, Yoru."
Yoru caught the black bead, clenching it in his palm. He felt the coordinate information within and gave a slight nod.
"Don't worry. He won't get away."
"Hahaha..."
"Yoru, you're as reliable as ever."
Suguru Geto stood up, brushed the dust off his clothes, and regained his arrogant and wild demeanor as the leader of the Star Religious Group.
"Well then."
"It's time for this ten-year performance to reach its magnificent grand finale!"
The two figures drifted apart in the darkness before dawn, each heading in a completely opposite direction.
This grand plan spanning a decade was finally going to be reaped tomorrow!
However.
Watching Suguru Geto's back, which still carried an undeniable sense of madness and gloom.
A lingering worry remained in Yoru's deep red eyes.
In this vortex of madness where truth and lies were hard to distinguish.
Could this exhausted Suguru Geto, who had been completely tainted by darkness, really carry out the final plan perfectly?
If he truly lost control on the battlefield tomorrow and turned his blade against his former companions.
How would this gamble end?
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