"I—"
"Tell me your plan, your personnel, and your positions. You only get one chance. I'll give you three seconds to organize your thoughts."
Haruta swallowed. He was about to explain himself when Toji raised three fingers and began counting down.
There was a ready source of information right in front of him. Of course he intended to make good use of it.
"Three."
"Sukuna… Sukuna's vessel… I only know they want to find Sukuna's vessel! There are several special grade cursed spirits. I don't know anything else!"
Before the countdown had even truly begun, cold sweat already covered Haruta's body and his voice trembled as he spoke.
Those people had never told him much. In Shibuya he was the weakest among them.
The only job he had been given was to clean up some minor pests after Satoru Gojo was sealed. With that kind of role, how could they possibly tell him anything important?
The whereabouts of the special grade cursed spirits were not something someone at his level could know.
They were never real partners. They were just a group of troublemakers gathered together by the idea of sealing a special grade sorcerer.
"Two."
But Toji's counting did not stop.
"I really don't know!"
Haruta shouted in panic.
"One."
"Die!"
Finally, just as the countdown was about to end, he snapped.
The fate of the hooded curse user was still right in front of him, and he refused to end up the same way.
The fear of death finally overcame the weakness that had frozen his body.
Clang!
Haruta yelled as he swung the sword in his hand, the blade slashing upward from the man's waist toward his shoulder. But what made his heart shake with fear was the sound that followed.
When the blade struck the man's body, it produced a noise like metal clashing against metal.
"It didn't cut him?!"
Haruta's eyes widened. He could not sense any cursed energy from the man.
That meant… pure physical strength?!
Smack!
Toji ignored the attack that felt like scratching an itch. He simply swung his hand and slapped Haruta across the face.
The slap landed like a hammer.
Haruta was sent flying several meters away, smashing into the staircase of the overpass and breaking it apart before disappearing into the rubble.
'Am I dead?!'
He struggled out of the wreckage, disbelief filling his eyes. The moment he opened his mouth, a large amount of blood poured out, several of his front teeth falling out with it.
Below his left eye, one of the three faint purple markings slowly faded. Only the outline remained while the color inside vanished.
Just one slap?!
He clearly felt it. If his technique had not sensed that his life was in danger, he would have died from that single hit.
Miracles.
That was Haruta's technique. It could also be called storing luck.
It was a strange ability that affected only himself. Small pieces of luck in daily life would disappear from his memory. Winning the lottery, hitting the jackpot in gambling, getting a free meal at a restaurant. All those moments would vanish.
That luck would instead be stored as color in the markings beneath his eyes. When he suffered a fatal attack, that stored luck would be consumed to keep him alive.
Over the years he had accumulated six full markings of these "miracles." But Haruta could clearly feel that the slap had erased one of them instantly.
How could he possibly accept that?
"Hm? Still alive? Some kind of technique?"
Based on his understanding of the body, someone with such weak physical strength and thin cursed energy should never have survived that blow.
'Then I'll just kill you a few more times.'
A mocking smile appeared on Toji's face as he stepped forward again.
"D-Don't come closer!"
If he didn't run now, he would truly die.
Watching Toji walk toward him like a demon king, Haruta felt as if the gates of hell were slowly opening. His legs trembled constantly as he tried to escape.
"What's going on here? Even if you're weak, you shouldn't fail to deal with a mere assistant manager."
Just then, Granny Ogami and the others, who had been pushed back earlier by Nanami and Megumi, passed through the outer curtain.
They followed Haruta's cursed energy and arrived here, just in time to see him being forced backward by a man whose back faced them.
It was Awasaka who spoke, his voice tinged with dissatisfaction.
"Grandma… something feels wrong."
Suddenly Ogami's Grandson, wearing Ogi's body, spoke up. His voice trembled with fear.
"What's wrong, grandson?"
The old woman turned around and saw that he was staring at the man's back.
His legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"More trash?"
Toji noticed the movement behind him and turned his head. His eyes immediately landed on "Ogi."
"It's him?!"
The moment their eyes met, Ogi's eyes widened abruptly.
Granny Ogami's technique normally did not summon the soul. It only borrowed the body and abilities of the target. But at that moment a memory flashed through the grandson's mind.
A nightmare carved into Ogi's body. A fear he had tried desperately to forget in life, yet one that had been engraved deep into his flesh.
'This is getting interesting.'
Calmly, Toji reached into his pocket and took out something the size of a dice.
In the blink of an eye it expanded into its true form, the Inventory Curse with a human face that wrapped around his upper body and rested on his shoulder.
When he reached out his hand, the creature spat out the first special grade cursed tool of his life: the Split Soul Katana.
"No cursed energy… carrying a special cursed spirit that stores cursed tools… could it be…"
Awasaka seemed to realize something terrifying. His face turned pale as sweat soaked his body.
"Toji Zenin?!"
Granny Ogami finished the thought. Even in their prime they had known the name of the man who once stood at the very top of the jujutsu world.
Her hand, which held a string of prayer beads, trembled violently.
The number of curse users and cursed spirits this man had killed was probably greater than the number of people they had ever killed.
Boom!
A tearing sound cut through the air.
A moment ago he had been dozens of meters away.
In the next moment Toji stood right in front of them.
His tall figure looked down at the three people below him, his eyes resting especially on the man in the middle.
"Old man, you look a little familiar."
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