The night wind howled, carrying the thick stench of blood and charred flesh as it swept through the devastated streets of Shibuya.
With Sukuna's consciousness falling into a slumber and Uraume quietly departing, the suffocatingly terrifying pressure that had weighed on everyone's heads finally dissipated.
But the chaos in Shibuya continued.
Without the deterrence of the King of Curses.
Those low-level and semi-grade 1 curses that had been hiding in the shadows, trembling, crawled out of the dark corners once more like hyenas smelling blood.
On the streets, surviving civilians screamed in terror, fleeing through the ruins and debris.
"Huff... huff..."
In the center of the ruins, Yoru knelt on one knee, gasping for air.
Shiranui was thrust into the scorched earth before him, the crimson glow on the blade completely receded, returning to its original pitch-black color.
That ultimate clash with fifteen-finger Sukuna just now had almost drained every last bit of his stamina.
If not for the fact that his synchronization rate with Yoriichi Tsugikuni had broken through 60%, granting him the physical support of a Sorcerer Killer-level body,
combined with Sukuna being in a weakened state after consecutive battles and his cursed technique burnout not being fully recovered, he probably would have collapsed long ago from muscle failure.
Yoru knew very well that it wasn't a true victory.
He had only barely managed to hold back the King of Curses when the other was at his weakest.
Once Sukuna fully recovered or collected all twenty fingers, that desperate gap would no longer be bridgeable by any tactics or windows of weakness.
"Yoru, are you okay?"
A cold voice called out from not far away.
Escorted by several assistant supervisors, Shoko Ieiri hurried to the heart of the battlefield.
Seeing Yoru covered in wounds and kneeling from exhaustion, and Yuji Itadori lying unconscious nearby, a flash of distress crossed Shoko's eyes as she immediately stepped forward to activate her Reverse Cursed Technique.
"I'm fine... save them first."
Yoru shook his head, refusing Shoko's priority treatment, his gaze shifting to Suguru Geto and the others who had been moved to safety by Mei Mei and Maki.
Shoko sighed. Knowing Yoru's temperament, she quickly turned and walked toward the heavily injured group.
Under Shoko's superb Reverse Cursed Technique, the terrifying wound on Suguru Geto's abdomen, deep enough to see bone, began to heal at a visible rate.
A moment later, Suguru Geto slowly opened his eyes.
"Geto-senpai, you're awake."
Kento Nanami, who had been keeping watch, breathed a sigh of relief. Although he couldn't use Reverse Cursed Technique, Shoko had already realigned his fractured spine, and he was barely able to stand.
Suguru Geto didn't speak immediately.
He turned his head and looked behind him.
There, hundreds of ordinary civilians were protected by the domain he had risked his life to maintain.
Right now, although these people were full of terror and covered in filth, they were all alive.
They hadn't become fodder for cursed spirits, nor had they been turned into mincemeat by Sukuna's slashes.
"Ah..."
A complex emotion flickered in Suguru Geto's narrow eyes.
There was relief, exhaustion, and the lightness of a heavy shackle being completely shattered.
He had done it.
He hadn't repeated the mistake of 2006, nor had he let blood stain his hands.
This time, he had chosen a path of redemption completely different from his original fate.
"Good work, Suguru."
Yoru had walked over at some point. He looked at Suguru Geto with a faint smile on his lips.
Suguru Geto looked at Yoru and smiled back. Although weak, it was incredibly sincere.
"Thanks to you... otherwise, I might have truly gone to hell."
As the two conversed,
the atmosphere on the other side was somewhat unusually silent.
With Mei Mei's support, Toji Fushiguro, covered in blood and barely hanging on by a thread, managed to stand up.
He pushed away Mei Mei's hand and, dragging his broken body that felt as if it would fall apart at any moment, walked step by step toward Megumi Fushiguro, who was sitting in the ruins.
Megumi was currently sitting on the ground, exhausted, his hands still trembling slightly.
Forcefully summoning the untamed Mahoraga earlier had not only drained all his cursed energy but had also caused a massive spiritual backlash.
Hearing footsteps, Megumi Fushiguro looked up.
Father and son, on this street in Shibuya turned to rubble, after this apocalyptic catastrophe, stared at each other quietly.
Toji looked at the boy before him who had already grown up.
Looking at those eyes and brows so similar to his own, and seeing the tenacity and resolve belonging to a sorcerer in his gaze.
"Kid..."
Toji's lips twitched, seemingly wanting to flash a disdainful smile, but in the end, it turned into a low sigh.
"As long as you're not dead."
Only simple words.
No apology, no hug, and certainly no fake sentimentality.
But for Toji Fushiguro, the Sorcerer Killer who had sold his soul for money, this was already the deepest emotion he could express.
Megumi bit his lip hard, his eyes reddening, but he forced himself not to let tears fall.
He silently reached out, pulling the remaining residual cursed energy of Mahoraga back into his body bit by bit.
"You too..."
Megumi turned his head away, his voice somewhat raspy.
Although there was no further exchange, Yoru, watching from the side, knew that the ice between father and son had completely thawed during their life-and-death struggle against Sukuna.
To be able to see the true reconciliation between Toji Fushiguro and Megumi Fushiguro on this twisted timeline,
Yoru felt that everything he had fought so hard for just now was worth it.
"Alright, that's enough reminiscing."
Mei Mei shouldered her massive battle-axe and stretched her aching shoulders, her bangs shifting in the wind to reveal her sharp eyes.
"Even though the most troublesome monster is gone, if we don't clear out these flies buzzing around, it'll affect the final payment."
"Miss Mei Mei is right."
Maki Zenin gripped her blade tightly. Despite her injuries, the fighting spirit in her eyes hadn't diminished in the slightest.
"Only by clearing out this trash can we go home."
Kento Nanami pushed up his damaged goggles, picked up his bandage-wrapped blade from the ground, and sighed.
"Overtime is going to be extended again."
As his voice fell,
Nanami, Mei Mei, and Maki, like three arrows released from a bow, instantly charged into the surrounding swarms of cursed spirits.
The flashes of blades, shadows of axes, and the booming sounds of cursed energy collisions resounded through the streets of Shibuya once more.
"I'll go too."
Yoru took a deep breath, forcing down the muscle aches.
He pulled Shiranui from the ground, his body turning into a streak of red lightning as he plunged back into the battlefield!
Thunder Breathing: Godspeed!
Golden lightning flickered continuously through the ruins, and with every flash, it took the lives of several low-level cursed spirits.
Though his stamina was at its limit, he still relied on muscle memory and the Transparent World to accurately and efficiently harvest the monsters threatening the civilians.
Some time passed.
When a faint light of dawn appeared on the eastern horizon, the roars on the streets of Shibuya finally quieted down.
Yoru stood on the wreckage of a high-rise building, looking down at the bustling city that had been almost completely leveled.
The morning breeze blew past his black uniform, which was stained with blood, bringing a piercing chill.
It seemed they had won this brutal defensive battle.
However,
there was no ease in Yoru's red eyes.
His gaze was fixed intently on the direction of the Shibuya subway station.
There were no longer any signs of life there.
"Kenjaku..."
Yoru clenched his teeth.
During the chaos of the fight against Sukuna, that mastermind behind the scenes, who was wearing Suguru Geto's skin and had orchestrated this entire conspiracy, had already taken advantage of the confusion to flee with the Prison Realm that sealed Satoru Gojo.
The battle was far from over.
Gojo-sensei had not been rescued yet, and Kenjaku's ultimate plan, which had been brewing for a thousand years—the Culling Game—was likely already imminent.
"No matter where you hide..."
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