Sukuna could clearly feel that as the global panic triggered by the video fermented, and with the widespread dissemination and reshaping of the 'Ryomen Sukuna' concept by the manga, threads of invisible, intangible, yet tangibly existing power were crossing the void from every corner of the world and flowing into his body.
It wasn't direct Cursed Energy, but a more fundamental presence and influence born from 'cognition,' 'fear,' 'legend,' and the 'concept' itself.
On the basis of his total Cursed Energy steadily recovering, it seemed to have gained an extra layer of indescribable heaviness.
"Fear is the grain, and legend is the foundation." Sukuna put down his chopsticks, his four crimson eyes scanning everyone.
"You've done better than I expected. The speed of information dissemination in this era is indeed interesting."
His gaze finally landed on Utaha with a hint of playfulness. "How about it, Kasumigaoka? Now that I've left your body and you no longer have a thousand-year-old monster noisy in your ear every day, how does it feel? Is it a lot more relaxing?"
Utaha looked up, her eyes meeting Sukuna's non-human vertical pupils.
Having been through so much, she felt much less of the initial fear when facing Sukuna, replaced by a complex sense of composure.
She let out a soft breath, and instead of answering directly whether it was relaxing, she said, "Sukuna-san, I seem to have... learned a bit of that."
"Oh?" Sukuna's brow arched slightly.
Utaha said no more. She extended her right hand, her slender fingers pressed together like a blade, her eyes focused intently on the empty space ahead.
Inside her, that strand of Cursed Energy—her own, originating from the same source as Sukuna's but far weaker—began to circulate. It wasn't mimicking Sukuna's wild and unbridled style, but instead carried a hint of her own precision and control, characteristic of a story-builder.
She gave her wrist a light flick. Silently, the air ahead distorted slightly, and an extremely fine but incredibly sharp invisible slash flew out. It smoothly sliced an exquisite decorative porcelain vase on the other side of the table into top and bottom halves.
The power, range, and precision of the slash were naturally worlds apart from Sukuna's, but its essence was indeed the prototype of Dismantle.
Eriri and Sayuri's eyes widened slightly. A ripple also passed through Megumi's calm eyes. Uraume looked up, an evaluative glint flashing in their ice-blue eyes.
Sukuna looked at the sliced vase, then at Utaha's face, which was slightly breathless from her first successful execution yet had sparkling eyes, and remained silent for a moment.
Then, he suddenly laughed. It wasn't his usual cruelty or mockery, but carried a hint of... satisfaction?
"Not bad." He nodded, one of his four arms waving casually as if brushing away dust.
"It seems you haven't just been busy writing novels and watching the show during this time. Is this a parting gift from me? Or the result of your own secret apprenticeship?"
Utaha withdrew her hand, feeling the consumption of Cursed Energy in her body, and answered seriously, "Both. Watching Sukuna-san fight, feeling the way you manipulate Cursed Energy... and, after you left, it seems some imprints or habits were left in my body."
"By trying to understand, trying to imitate, and adding some of my own adjustments... I managed it."
She wasn't lying. As Sukuna's former vessel, her body and soul were deeply branded with the traces of Sukuna's power. Now that Sukuna had left, those traces hadn't completely vanished. Instead, they had become the key to opening her own path in Jujutsu.
Combined with her natural talent, keen observation, and Sukuna's occasional pointers, being able to preliminarily simulate the basics of Dismantle was unexpected but within the realm of possibility.
"Hmph, at least my stay at your place wasn't a waste."
Sukuna withdrew his gaze and turned back to the table full of delicacies, his tone returning to indifference. "Keep practicing. A slash isn't just swinging a kitchen knife, you're still far from the intent and logic within it. However... the starting point isn't too low."
This was a rare recognition from him.
The private room fell silent, leaving only the faint sound of cutlery and the distant clamor from outside the window belonging to this massive city—a noise that seemed no different from usual, yet felt as if undercurrents were surging.
Sayuri spoke up at the right time, breaking the brief silence, "Sukuna-san, what are your plans next? The world already knows of your existence, the Jujutsu World is in chaos, and ordinary society is in a state of panic. Is this situation exactly what you desired?"
Sukuna swallowed the last bite of the delicate chawanmushi, picked up a snow-white napkin, and wiped the corner of his lips. His four crimson eyes looked out at the darkening sky outside the window, where the first lights were coming on and neon was flickering, outlining the city's prosperous yet fragile silhouette.
"Plans?" He gave a light laugh.
No particular emotion could be heard in his voice, only a cold indifference as if looking down at a chessboard, along with a faint hint of anticipation.
"The stage is set, the actors are entering one by one, and the audience is already in place."
"The play has only just reached the first act."
"As for me..."
He stood up, the hem of his kimono sliding down like water.
Uraume immediately followed silently behind.
"Naturally, I'm going to find some more interesting fun."
Tokyo, Nagatachō.
Deep within the Prime Minister's Official Residence, in a secret meeting room cut off from all external light and sound, the air was so heavy it could practically be wrung out like water.
Outside the thick bulletproof glass windows was a neatly manicured courtyard, but no one inside was in the mood to appreciate it.
At the end of a long table, several core members of the Cabinet, dressed in dark suits with haggard faces but sharp eyes, sat upright. Their gazes were all focused on the single figure at the other end of the table who seemed completely out of place in this tense atmosphere.
It was a young woman.
She had smooth, cherry-blossom pink, medium-length hair that curled slightly at the ends over her shoulders. Most striking were her eyes—they were not ordinary pupils, but ringed eyes that shimmered with a faint, indifferent golden light.
Her gaze was calm and rippleless, as if those before her were not the holders of the nation's highest power, but merely a group of ordinary subjects she needed to process.
She wore the standard uniform of the Public Security Anti-Devil Special Division 4: a white shirt ironed without a single wrinkle, a black tie at the collar, and a well-tailored black suit jacket and trousers.
Her posture was erect and relaxed, yet she naturally radiated an unquestionable, almost absolute sense of domination.
Makima.
The highest-level Devil Hunter directly under the Japanese Cabinet Secretariat and the actual controller of Public Security Anti-Devil Special Division 4.
Her true identity was the Control Devil, a being whose power and danger made high-ranking officials and powerful devils worldwide both wary of her and desperate to eliminate her. At this moment, she was calmly listening to the Prime Minister's statement.
"...That is the situation, Makima-san."
The Prime Minister's voice was somewhat dry. On the tablet screen in front of him, the video from Uraume was frozen on a close-up of Sukuna's four crimson eyes.
"This entity calling himself 'Ryomen Sukuna,' and the global panic triggered by that video, have already severely shaken social order. Public fear is growing exponentially, and reports of abnormal incidents are surging everywhere. Although most are chaos caused by psychological factors, the number of actual Curse incidents mixed among them is also rising. Even more troublesome is the situation with the Jujutsu World."
He paused, his face showing obvious fatigue and a hint of irritation. "We have almost completely lost contact. According to our limited intelligence channels, their strongest fighter, Gojo Satoru, is confirmed dead. Their internal structure is in massive chaos, and they are simply unable to deal with this national, even global, cognitive shock. The 'Window' system is also near collapse."
Another Cabinet member chimed in, his tone anxious, "We must control the situation as soon as possible. Panic itself is breeding more Curses. This Sukuna... he hasn't just created chaos, he himself is the source and symbol of chaos. The more the public fears him, the stronger the concept of the devil becomes. It's a vicious cycle."