Kento Nanami stopped and turned to Yuji Itadori, who was following him.
The flame of anger on the boy's face had not yet subsided, but deep in his eyes, there was a clear, profound pain over the horrific fate of those innocent victims. It wasn't the sympathy of a passerby, but a burning, almost empathetic pain arising from innate goodness. This caused a flicker of nearly imperceptible softness to pass through Nanami's eyes, usually full of professional fatigue.
"Itadori," Nanami's voice was slightly slower than usual; he calmly stated facts, trying to soothe the boy's agitated emotions. "I know what you're thinking. But you need to understand that before these people started fighting us, their consciousness, their minds, and even most of their brain functions as 'humans' had been completely destroyed and eliminated."
He pushed up his glasses, which reflected the dim corridor light. "When they transformed into this form, and when they were driven to attack, they were essentially empty shells, manipulated by cursed energy and retaining only biological instincts. Their 'death' occurred earlier. What we just did was put to rest those 'shells' that shouldn't exist, to prevent them from harming more people, and to find out who is behind this to stop it from happening again."
This wasn't cold-blooded justification, but a professional judgment based on facts. Nanami wanted Itadori to understand that their anger should be directed at the perpetrator, not dwelling on unnecessary grief over what was already lost, which would only cloud judgment.
Itadori pressed his lips tightly together and nodded. The pain in his eyes was replaced by a more determined anger. He understood what Nanami meant, but it didn't lessen his hatred for the curse technique.
Nanami said nothing more, refocusing on the immediate situation.
The cursed residue permeating the air became clearer, more intense, and undisguised, like a "invitation" paved with darkness, leading directly to the target. From the specific location of the attack in the cinema, to the well-planted surveillance malfunction, to this cursed path intentionally leaving a visible trail...
All signs indicated that the other party was deliberately leading him somewhere.
Was this arrogance and overconfidence, thinking they could take on these two sorcerers? Or were they magnificent, fearless, and even eager for an "interesting" encounter? Either way, it meant the risk factor for the future was extremely high.
Nanami's gaze swept over Itadori beside him. The young man was talented and simple-hearted, but after all, he was still inexperienced. Facing such an opponent, clearly a trap and possessing such a strange and evil method, was too risky.
As a senior, as someone entrusted by Satoru Gojo and Zen'in Genji to "take care of the saplings," he had a responsibility to control the risks within reasonable limits.
His mind made up, Nanami had already decided.
He stopped and pointed to another fork in the corridor—an office area leading to the cinema's back, possibly a back door.
"Itadori, go this way and search the other parts of the cinema, especially the staff room, the surveillance room, and near the back door. Check if there are any missed witnesses or unusual traces or records. Stay safe, maintain communication, and contact immediately if you find anything."
Nanami's voice returned to a calm, official tone, giving clear instructions. This was a reasonable task allocation that could utilize Itadori's role while temporarily separating him from the most dangerous core area.
Itadori was stunned for a moment, as if wanting to say something, but seeing the undeniably calm look in Nanami's eyes, he nodded. "Yes! Understood, Nanami-senpai! You be careful too!"
Watching Itadori's figure disappear around the corner of another passage, Nanami turned and faced the darkness most contaminated by cursed energy, leading directly to the entrance of an underground pipe.
He adjusted his suit and tie, picked up his briefcase, and walked in.
Descending the narrow service stairs, he entered the veins of Tokyo's vast urban sewer system. Damp, foul, stifling air hit his face, mixed with the sweet, fishy cursed residue, nauseating. Dim emergency lights cast swaying reflections on the water.
Not far away, the attacks repeated. They were still the same twisted humanoid monsters, jumping out of the sewer shadows and pipe crevices. They were more "complete" than those above, some even retaining more human facial features, but only madness and pain remained in their eyes.
Kento Nanami's pace didn't slow for a second. He didn't even put down his briefcase—each strike was efficient and deadly, without the slightest trace of wasted motion, as if clearing a bothersome obstacle.
However, with each monster he put down, Nanami's eyes behind his glasses grew a little colder. He could "see" the final, liberating fluctuations of the remaining human expressions in these monsters the moment they were struck.
He had lied to Itadori—these transformed beings knew what was happening to them from beginning to end, constantly begging for help, but could only be freed. This invoked a deep, cold sorrow in him.
But he perfectly suppressed these emotions beneath a mask of professionalism. At this moment, eliminating the immediate threat and finding and stopping the perpetrator was the only correct action. Sympathy and grief could be left until after it was all over.
Finally, passing through an unusually spacious area resembling an old drainage hub, Nanami stopped.
On a slightly higher, dry platform ahead, a figure stood with his back turned, as if he were looking down with interest, "observing" a particularly distorted "failed piece" at his feet that had just stopped twitching. The man had short silver-blue hair, loose clothing and pants, and a relaxed posture.
As if sensing Nanami's approach, the man slowly turned around. He had a young male face with an innocent, curious smile and a pair of strange heterochromatic eyes. It was Mahito, returned to his adult form.
"Oh? Looks like... a very 'serious' sorcerer," Mahito tilted his head and smiled brightly, as if encountering an interesting toy.
Kento Nanami looked at him without expression, his gaze sweeping over the cursed energy around Mahito, of the same origin as the monsters but deeper and more compressed, and his eerie eyes, which seemed to see the essence of the soul. The source of all the distortion and pain in the air clearly pointed to this seemingly young "man."
Without a word of accusation, Nanami adjusted his glasses and asked in a very calm tone:
"Let me ask you a question."
"Those 'transformed beings'... are they the result of your cursed technique?"
No interrogation, no angry rebuke, just confirmation. But this could express his disgust and resolve more than any furious words.
Mahito seemed a bit surprised by Nanami's directness, but then his smile widened, and he clapped his hands, as if presenting his proud work:
"Yes! Amazing, isn't it? This is my technique—Idle Transfiguration!" He extended his hand, a gray-white cursed energy writhing at his fingertips, like a living creature. "You can directly touch the shape of the soul, and then... change it however you want! Of course, the body's form changes along with it~ See, isn't it great to compress those boring, fragile 'human souls' into more interesting and 'practical' shapes? It's art!"
He explained with great interest, as if introducing a new game, completely ignoring the horrific atrocities behind this "art."
Kento Nanami listened quietly, his face showing neither the anger nor the fear Mahito expected. He only took a very light, almost inexplicable breath, then used his free left hand to unbutton the top of his suit and loosen his tie.
This simple action further heightened the interest in Mahito's heterochromatic pupils.
Then, Nanami made a move uncommon in sorcerer battles but seemed very natural to him. His left hand reached towards his waist—it seemed a long strip, wrapped in a special cursed tool, was always attached there.
He drew a blunt blade, pointed the tip diagonally at the ground, and then, in his characteristic tired but incomparably clear voice, calmly stated:
"My technique is a cursed technique based on ratios."
"Consequently, the target's length is forcibly divided according to the 'ratio' I set. Weak points are also strengthened in equal proportion."
"This technique is public."
Simple words. In a jujutsu battle, taking the initiative to reveal the effects of one's technique to the enemy is risky behavior that leaks one's own intelligence.
However, correspondingly, such an act becomes a binding vow, exchanging for a certain reward, which can significantly improve the stability and activation efficiency of the technique for a short period, in exchange for increased combat effectiveness.
For Kento Nanami, this seemed merely part of his "workflow"—since it was decided to work "overtime" on this troublesome "project," it was reasonable to conduct the necessary "briefing" and "resource allocation" to improve efficiency.
Almost simultaneously with the utterance of "technique public," the originally calm, restrained cursed energy around Kento Nanami suddenly burst forth! It wasn't a surge in quantity, but a condensation in "quality" and an explosion in "activity"! An aura, sharper, more decisive, as if it could break through all limits and rules, emanated from him.
The smile on Mahito's face faded slightly, surprise flickering in his heterochromatic eyes. He could feel that the pedantic sorcerer before him had changed his pace.
Then he heard Nanami's next words, and beneath the calm tone lay a will stronger than any roar:
"And one more thing."
"During work hours, I can only use about 80% of my cursed energy output."
"But right now—"
Kento Nanami slightly raised his lowered eyes, and his gaze behind the lenses, like an unsheathed blade, instantly locked onto Mahito.
"I'm working overtime."
The words fell.
Bang—!
As if some limiter had been forcibly removed, the boiling cursed energy within Nanami's body arrogantly broke through that limit the moment "overtime" was declared! It wasn't just 100%, but more violent, more compressed, with an obsession akin to "exceeding the target"—120%!
A Grade 1 sorcerer's cursed energy erupted unconditionally, and even surged at this moment! Combined with the rule enhancement caused by "technique public"...
The next moment.
Mahito's heterochromatic pupils suddenly constricted to the extreme!
In his perception and vision, Kento Nanami, who had been standing a few meters away just seconds ago and had just finished his "briefing"—his figure, driven by the burst of cursed energy and a will for extreme "efficiency," seemed to blur, elongate, and then teleport—
Vanished?!
No, not vanished!
It's speed! This speed was almost beyond the dynamic visual capture of his humanoid form at this moment, and so fast that even his keen soul perception was briefly delayed!
Whoosh—!
The cold, precise, absolute will to "divide" the sound of tearing air was already sounding at his face!
Kento Nanami's blunt blade, wrapped in a black dividing line and filled with the over-limit cursed energy of overtime, had already cut through the air before Mahito could fully react, along the simplest and most direct trajectory, but made extremely deadly by speed and power—
At Mahito's neck, slicing it!