"Mr. Ijichi, if you keep shaking like that, the steering wheel is going to fall right off."
Inside the assistant director's car, the air felt as thick as setting concrete.
Kiyotaka Ijichi's forehead was drenched in sweat, his knuckles white from gripping the wheel with excessive force.
Through the rearview mirror, he stole a trembling glance at the teenager sitting in the back seat.
Yoru sat with his eyes closed, cradling his black longsword in his arms. His breathing was so shallow it was almost imperceptible.
Yet Ijichi could feel it—the temperature inside the car seemed several degrees higher than it was outside.
It wasn't an issue with the air conditioning; it was a sort of pressure, suppressed to the absolute limit.
"I... I am deeply sorry!"
Ijichi stammered,
"But Yoru-kun, this mission... it really isn't a joke."
"Though 'Window' initially classified it as Grade 1, based on the residual cursed energy at the scene..."
"This is very likely a Special Grade case!"
When he reached the words "Special Grade," Ijichi's voice cracked.
Special Grade.
The apex of the jujutsu world, and a synonym for despair.
For an ordinary sorcerer, encountering a Special Grade offered only two choices:
Run, or die.
"A Special Grade, huh..."
Megumi Fushiguro, who had been silent in the passenger seat, furrowed his brows.
He clutched his phone, Satoru Gojo's number displayed on the screen, but he hesitated to make the call.
"Gojo-sensei is away on business, and Yuta-senpai is overseas."
"The only combatants we can mobilize right now are the four of us first-years."
Sitting next to Yoru, Yuji Itadori scratched his head, looking utterly lost.
"Special Grade? Is that really impressive?"
"Didn't Yoru just take care of a Special Grade Cursed Womb recently?"
"Felt like... it wasn't that big a deal?"
Nobara Kugisaki was touching up her makeup and let out a huff at those words.
"Exactly. They called us out so urgently, I thought the world was ending."
"With that stoic freak here," she said, gesturing toward Yoru, "plus Sukuna's vessel, how could we lose?"
"No."
Yoru suddenly opened his eyes.
There wasn't a hint of humor in his dark red pupils, only a dead, hollow calm.
He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but enough to make the other three in the car shudder simultaneously.
"This time is different."
"The one before was, at best, an underdeveloped premature birth."
"But this one..."
Yoru's fingers lightly brushed the hilt of his sword, feeling the faint vibration emanating from the blade.
Shiranui was crying out.
It was the excitement of facing a powerful foe, but also a warning.
"This time is a genuine Special Grade."
"People will die."
The car fell into instant silence. Yuji's smile froze, and Nobara's hand stopped mid-air.
Megumi whipped his head around, staring intently at Yoru.
"Yoru, did you sense something?"
Yoru didn't answer. He simply turned to look out the window.
The sky was terrifyingly gloomy, the dark clouds hanging so low they felt reachable.
In the distance, the Eishu Juvenile Detention Center was already completely enveloped by a pitch-black Veil.
That wasn't just a barrier to block sight; it was a gateway to hell.
'Those rotten oranges in the higher-ups really can't wait,' Yoru sneered inwardly.
Taking advantage of Satoru Gojo's absence to send first-year students on a Special Grade mission—this wasn't a mission, it was an execution.
This was a move to kill with a borrowed knife, aimed at Yuji Itadori or perhaps at an uncontrollable factor like himself.
"We're here."
Ijichi slammed on the brakes.
The car stopped at the gates of the detention center. The massive iron doors were tightly shut, not a single ray of light escaping from within.
Only the nauseating residue of cursed energy overflowed from the cracks in the door like sludge from a sewer.
The four of them stepped out of the car. Standing before that massive Veil, humans seemed so small.
"Listen."
Ijichi wiped away cold sweat, trying to make one last stand.
"Your mission is only to confirm survivors. If you encounter a Special Grade cursed spirit, absolutely do not fight!"
"Your only options are to run or die!"
"Please, make running your first priority!"
Yuji took a deep breath and cracked his knuckles.
"Got it. We just need to get the people out, right?"
Although Yoru's words had made him uneasy, he chose to remain optimistic.
After all, he had become a sorcerer to save people.
Megumi summoned his Divine Dogs.
"Black, White. On guard."
The two Shikigami emerged from the shadows but growled uneasily at the gate, their tails tucked between their legs.
Even the Shikigami could feel it—whatever was inside was dangerous.
"Yoru?"
Nobara noticed Yoru hadn't moved and called out to him.
Yoru stood at the very front, his hand already resting on the hilt of his sword.
His body leaned forward slightly, a posture ready to draw at any second.
Total Concentration: Constant.
Air was compressed in his lungs, blood flow accelerated, and his body temperature began to climb.
In his vision, the pitch-black Veil wasn't static; it was writhing.
Like a giant stomach, waiting for food to be delivered to its door.
"Follow me closely."
Yoru's voice cut through the rain, drilling clearly into everyone's ears.
"Do not stray more than three steps from me."
"Otherwise..."
"Not even the gods will be able to save you."
With that, he stepped into the Veil.
Yuji and the others looked at each other, gritted their teeth, and followed close behind.
The moment their figures vanished into the darkness, Ijichi slumped to the ground, completely drained.
"It's over..."
"It's really over..."
...
Inside the Veil.
The sky had turned a bizarre dark purple.
The surrounding buildings were distorted and warped, like an abstract painting by Picasso.
Gravity itself seemed to have failed; water was flowing upward through the pipes.
"Is... is this the Innate Domain of a Special Grade cursed spirit?"
Megumi's face was pale.
Although a Domain Expansion hadn't been fully deployed yet, the overflowing cursed energy had already altered physical reality.
This level of pressure was unlike anything they had faced before.
"Ugh..."
Nobara covered her mouth, nearly gagging.
The air was thick with the heavy scent of blood and a rotting stench; severed limbs and broken bodies were scattered everywhere.
They belonged to the rescue teams sent in earlier, or the inmates here.
"How could this happen..."
Yuji looked at a body with only half a torso remaining. His eyes reddened instantly.
A name was written on the name tag—one of the survivors from the list Ijichi had shown them.
"Are we already too late?"
"Don't get distracted."
Yoru's cold voice snapped Yuji out of his grief.
"It's here."
"Hehehe..."
A sharp, piercing, eerie laugh suddenly echoed from all directions.
Like nails scraping against a chalkboard, it made their skin crawl.
Then, in the depths of the previously empty corridor, the darkness began to churn violently.
A terrifying, suffocating wave of cursed energy surged toward them like a tsunami!
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
Heavy footsteps—each one felt like a boot stomping on their hearts.
A malformed, white cursed spirit with multiple eyes slowly emerged from the shadows.
It looked at the four little snacks before it, splitting its mouth open to reveal a maw full of jagged teeth.
"Ah... ah..."
Yuji felt his legs trembling.
It was biological fear, the instinctive terror of a prey facing an absolute predator.
Yoru slowly drew Shiranui.
The black blade reflected a cold luster under the purple light.
He didn't look back, only saying one thing plainly.
"Don't just stand there dazed."
"If you want to survive, give it everything you've got."
Shiranui let out a crisp ring.
Like the cry of a dragon.
The Special Grade cursed spirit tilted its head, seemingly interested in the little bug that dared to draw a sword against it.
Next second.
It vanished.