The arena buzzed with anticipation.
Hakari stepped forward—cracking his neck once.
"…Alright," he said, grinning wide.
"…Let's gamble."
Takeru's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses.
"…Here it comes."
Hakari clapped his hands once.
"Domain Expansion."
The world shattered.
The underground fight club vanished—
Replaced instantly by something else.
A train station.
Bright lights.
Ticket gates.
A rhythmic mechanical hum echoing everywhere.
And above them—
A massive pachinko machine flickered to life.
"Idle Death Gamble."
Yuji blinked wildly. "…WHAT IS THIS?!"
Nobara stared up. "…Why is this so flashy?!"
Megumi's expression darkened. "…This isn't normal…"
Takeru didn't move.
Because the moment the domain formed—
Everything flooded in.
Information.
Rules.
Systems.
All of it—forced directly into his mind.
And then—
Sukuna spoke.
Ryomen Sukuna's voice echoed, smooth and almost amused:
"When Hakari activates Idle Death Gamble: CR Private Pure Love Train Version 1/239, the environment transforms into a train station-like arena layered with pachinko mechanics, and its sure-hit effect doesn't deal damage but instead forcibly transfers all rules of the game directly into the opponent's brain at extreme speed—too fast for standard counters like Simple Domain or Hollow Wicker Basket—forcing both combatants into a gambling system where Hakari aims to hit a jackpot by aligning three identical symbols, usually numbers one through seven themed around a romance manga like Admiring You, with a base probability of one in two hundred thirty-nine, meaning failure is expected at first; however, through combat actions he builds toward spins using indicators like Reserve Balls of varying probability colors—green low, red medium, gold high, even rare rainbow—alongside Shutter or Train Doors that slam and trap with similar odds, and consecutive cursed energy effects that can stack until four guarantee a jackpot, all culminating in a 'riichi' scenario—short animated sequences tied to the train romance theme—where three numbers roll like a slot machine, and if they match, such as triple sevens, he enters a jackpot state granting four minutes and eleven seconds of effectively infinite cursed energy, during which his body automatically performs Reverse Cursed Technique at maximum output, rendering him nearly unkillable while also resetting his technique burnout, allowing repeated domain use, while odd-number jackpots improve future probabilities and even numbers accelerate subsequent spins; if he fails, the domain persists and the cycle repeats, meaning the opponent must either kill him before he hits or survive the inevitable, because this domain isn't about immediate lethality—it's about forcing a prolonged gamble where Hakari holds the advantage through momentum, probability manipulation, and sheer obsession with risk, perfectly embodying his nature as a restless gambler who turns life-or-death combat into a rigged game where the house always wins… eventually."
Silence followed.
Yuji blinked. "…I understood like… ten percent of that."
Nobara groaned. "WHY IS THIS A GAME?!"
Megumi clenched his fist slightly. "…Because once he wins… we lose."
Hakari laughed.
"Let's see how long you last!"
He moved—
Launching glowing spheres—
Green.
They slammed into the ground, bouncing like pachinko balls.
Takeru dodged easily—
But more followed.
Red.
Faster.
Sharper.
Then—
Massive train doors slammed down—
CRASH—
Forcing Takeru back.
The machine above flickered.
Numbers spun.
…No match.
Hakari grinned wider.
"…Again."
Time passed.
One minute.
Two.
Three.
The attacks kept coming.
Balls.
Doors.
Effects stacking.
The arena pulsed with each failed spin.
Four minutes.
Still—
No jackpot.
Yuji leaned over the railing. "WAIT—HE HASN'T HIT IT YET?!"
Nobara shouted, "ISN'T THAT GOOD FOR US?!"
Megumi shook his head slowly. "…No."
"…Why not?!"
"…Because he only needs one."
Five minutes.
Hakari stood there—
Breathing steady.
Grinning like a man enjoying every second.
"…C'mon…" he muttered.
"…Give me something good."
Above—
The machine shifted again.
A new animation began.
The lights flickered brighter.
The sound changed.
Takeru's eyes narrowed.
"…This one's different."
Sukuna chuckled softly.
"…Ah… a higher probability riichi."
Hakari's grin widened.
"…Now we're talking."
The numbers began to spin.
Slow.
Deliberate.
The entire arena held its breath.
Takeru stood still.
Watching.
Calculating.
Because he knew—
If this hit—
Everything would change.