Sigh—how boring.
Tu Bai finally raised his head and looked at Gojo Satoru. The other man had already finished his second Kikufuku and was licking the cream from his fingertips. His movements were so casual that it didn't seem like he was here to execute a Special Grade Mission, but rather like he was having a picnic in the park.
Senior," Tu Bai said, trying his best to keep his voice steady, "Regarding my identity, could you please..
Keep it a secret?" Gojo Satoru picked up the thread. "Sure. In exchange—
He jumped down from the concrete pillar, walked up to Tu Bai, leaned in a little closer. This time Tu Bai did not retreat, even though his instinct was screaming at him to run.
Tell me the details of your Cursed Technique," Gojo Satoru said. "'Construction Technique' is something I've seen a few times, but yours is a bit different. As I said just now, the patterns are different, and.." He tapped his temple. "The Six Eyes can see deeper things. The strength of your constructs is proportional to the 'that power' you invest, but the consumption method does not grow linearly. Interesting.
Tu Bai gripped the Kikufuku in his hand, the plastic wrapper making a faint rustling sound.
He was thinking rapidly.
Gojo Satoru had clearly seen through a lot, but he didn't seem to harbor any hostility. At least, not for now. Moreover, the fact that the other party was willing to negotiate terms was a good sign.
.. My Cursed Technique uses my own energy to construct objects from my imagination," Tu Bai chose to tell a partial truth. "The more complex, larger, longer-lasting they are, the greater the consumption. Usually, maintaining a form requires a continuous supply of energy, but if the energy density is compressed during the Construction Technique, they can be made into semi-permanent 'Cursed Tools'—I mean, technique-based items.
Can you construct living beings?
No. It can only be inorganic matter or simple structures.
What is the maximum extent it can reach?
I tried it on a three-story concrete structure; it held for ten minutes," Tu Bai said. "After that, I was bedridden for three days.
Gojo Satoru whistled.
Not bad. So, about today's Cursed Spirit—you've read the files, right? It's a mental pollution type that creates illusions, its true body is hiding deep within the ruins. I need you to construct a closed barrier to trap it within a certain range so it doesn't escape. Can you do it?
I need to know the specific range and the terrain.
"Ijichi!" Gojo Satoru called out, turning his head.
Ijichi, who had been standing in the distance, jogged over while holding a tablet. "Mr. Gojo, this is the underground structural map of the ruins. The last observed location of the Cursed Spirit was here—" he pointed to a red dot in the center of the map, "the second basement level parking lot. However, its ability allows it to pass through walls, its range of activity may cover the entire third basement level, approximately eight thousand square meters."
Tu Bai calculated quickly in his mind.
Eight thousand square meters, a three-dimensional enclosed barrier; considering the potential impact from a Cursed Spirit..
I need at least three minutes of preparation time, I cannot be disturbed during the construction process," he said. "The barrier can be maintained for a maximum of twenty minutes. Its strength can withstand three full-force attacks from a Special Grade Cursed Spirit.
That's enough," Gojo Satoru said. "I don't need twenty minutes. Three minutes.. fine, I'll make it happen for you.
He turned to Ijichi: "Have all Assistant Supervisors retreat another two hundred meters and set up a Secondary Cordon. There might still be Cursed Energy Residue in the basement that hasn't been fully cleared; ordinary people will go mad if they get close."
Yes.
After Ijichi left, only the two of them remained at the scene.
Gojo Satoru pulled a small box from his pocket, poured out two candies, tossed one to Tu Bai. "Get some energy. Don't hold me back in a bit, little rabbit."
Tu Bai caught the candy; it was a lemon-flavored hard candy. He unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth, the sourness exploding on the tip of his tongue.
I won't hold you back, Senior.
“You'd better not,” Gojo Satoru said, tossing another candy into the air and catching it with his mouth. “Let's go, time to get to work.”
He walked toward the depths of the ruins, his footsteps as casual as if he were out shopping. Tu Bai followed half a step behind him, finally stuffing the Kikufuku in his hand into his coat pocket.
The tension remained, but it was strangely mixed with a hint of.. excitement?
Collaborating with the strongest—if he performs well, he might even be able to establish a connection with him in the future. Gojo Satoru holds immense influence within the Jujutsu World; if he can earn his recognition, his own situation will become much safer.
Of course, the risks were also immense.
Gojo Satoru, walking ahead, suddenly spoke up, "By the way, how old are you?"
"Nineteen," Tu Bai said.
Oh, so you're nine years younger than me. Are you still in school?
University of Tokyo, freshman year.
Wow, a top student. What's your major?
Faculty of Letters.
A rabbit Sorcerer from the Faculty of Letters.." Gojo Satoru laughed, "Your credentials are quite complex.
They passed through a collapsed wall and entered the interior of the building. The light dimmed, the air was thick with dust and the smell of something burnt. Gojo Satoru pulled a small flashlight from somewhere and illuminated the path ahead.
Senior," Tu Bai hesitated, "Aren't you going to ask me why I've been hiding my identity?
If you have something to say, you'll say it," Gojo Satoru said without even looking back. "Everyone has their own secrets. As long as they don't harm others or violate my principles, I can't be bothered to care.
And what are your principles?
As long as I'm happy.
Tu Bai fell silent.
They walked down the stairs, the air in the basement grew even colder. The Cursed Energy Residue became increasingly thick, like a viscous mist clinging to their feet. Tu Bai instinctively tensed his nerves, his Demon Power flowing slowly through his body, ready to construct a defense at any moment.
"Do you feel it?" Gojo Satoru's voice dropped slightly.
Yeah. Very thick negative emotions.. fear, despair, intense hatred.
This Cursed Spirit was formed from the accumulated resentment of the victims of the Kabukicho fire," Gojo Satoru said. "Over twenty people died in that great fire half a year ago. The subsequent investigation concluded it was due to aging electrical circuits, but the families refused to accept it, believing the developers had intentionally set the fire to commit insurance fraud. That resentment never dissipated, combined with the negative energy historically lingering in this area.. it's no wonder a Special Grade was born.
You are very well-informed.
It's written in the mission briefing," Gojo Satoru said, stopping before a half-collapsed iron door. "But I don't think it's entirely correct. Within the Cursed Spirit's resentment, there is also a very intense emotion of 'being betrayed'.. interesting.
He pushed open the iron door.
Behind the door was the B2 Parking Lot. It was empty and dim, with only a few emergency lights flickering. There was standing water on the ground, reflecting the distorted light.
Right in the center, something was crouching there.
At first, Tu Bai thought it was a pile of discarded clothes, but he soon saw clearly—it was a humanoid silhouette, cobbled together from charred limbs, melted plastic, twisted metal. It had no head, a crack split the center of its torso, revealing a dense mass of eyes within.
All the eyes were closed.
Still sleeping," Gojo Satoru said softly. "Alright, then it's now. Little rabbit, begin construction. I'll wake it up.
Tu Bai nodded and pressed his palms together.
Demon Power surged from within his body, condensing in his palms. He closed his eyes, constructing the structure of the Barrier in his mind—a three-dimensional hexagonal grid, with every node reinforced, covering the entirety of B2 and the floors above and below.
Silver light overflowed from his palm, spreading in all directions like flowing water, began to creep up and down upon touching the walls. Faint Demon Wards flashed within the light, resembling some kind of ancient runes.
Gojo Satoru stood before him, looking at that Cursed Spirit.
Then he snapped his fingers.
The sound was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the silent space.
All the eyes on the Cursed Spirit opened at once.
Author's Note:
----------------------
Chapter 2
When those eyes opened, Tu Bai felt as if his breath had been choked off.
It wasn't just a pair of eyes—it was dozens, perhaps even hundreds, packed densely within the fissure at the center of the Cursed Spirit's torso. Every eye was a different color—burnt umber, cloudy, or bloodshot crimson—and they all rolled in unison, locking onto the two people standing by the iron gate.
Then, all the eyes blinked at once.
The Parking Lot had vanished.
It wasn't a visual disappearance, but rather the space itself being replaced. One moment Tu Bai was standing on a concrete floor, the next, the ground beneath his feet had become something slippery and elastic. The light was sucked away, his surroundings plunged into total darkness; even the faint light from the flashlight in Gojo Satoru's hand vanished.
No, it wasn't complete darkness.
Specks of light began to emerge from the darkness, distorted and flickering like reflections at the bottom of water. Tu Bai heard sounds—not through his ears, but as voices drilling directly into his mind. Crying, screaming, the shattering of glass, the crackling of burning flames. There were also people speaking, repetitive and stubborn:
Why us..
It hurts so much..
Let's die together..
Tu Bai's Demon Power continued to surge outward, the Barrier was halfway constructed, but he suddenly lost his positional coordinates. He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain it, but the voices in his head grew louder and louder, the spots of light before his eyes began to coalesce into a shape.
First, it was the shadows.
A massive, distorted shadow crawled out from the depths of the darkness. Tu Bai recognized them as Cursed Spirits of various forms; he had seen pictures of them in mission records and heard seniors describe them. Centipede-like segmented bodies, fleshy orbs covered in human faces, black matter flowing like sludge.. but they were all much larger than in his memory, two or three times larger, pressing down and blotting out the sky.
Tu Bai took a step back, his heels bumped into something. He looked down and saw standing water—no, it was blood, a dark red, flooding past his ankles. Something was moving in the water, something long and slender, like fingers.
An illusion," he said to himself. "It's an illusion, the ability of a Cursed Spirit, I can't trust it—
Before he could finish his sentence, he saw himself.
It was not a reflection in a mirror, but a real, other Tu Bai, standing ten meters away from him. That "Tu Bai" wore the same clothes, but was soaked through, his hair clinging to his face. Behind him was the airport customs checkpoint, several uniformed staff members were walking toward him, carrying seals and documents in their hands.
Illegal immigrant," one of the staff members said, his voice mingling with the whispers of the Cursed Spirit, "No legal identity, no visa, according to the Exit and Entry Administration Law..
"Deportation," another said.
Execute immediately.
That Tu Bai turned his head and looked toward the real Tu Bai. His eyes were empty, devoid of pupils, containing nothing but two black holes. He opened his mouth and spoke with Tu Bai's own voice:
You can't run away.
Tu Bai's ears began to itch.
It wasn't a metaphor, but a real physiological reaction—the base of his ears felt hot and swollen, with an urge to burst through his scalp. He pressed his hands tightly over his ears, his fingers digging into his hair, took a deep breath.
Calm down, calm down, this is an illusion, a projection of fear manufactured by a Cursed Spirit digging through your memories. You haven't been deported; you have a registered identity in Japan, even though it's forged, the records are complete. You are a legal Sorcerer, a Grade 1, one who has been filed with Jujutsu Headquarters..
But another thought surfaced: what if Gojo Satoru saw through it? What if he reported it? What if the Jujutsu Headquarters re-examined your identity files—
Don't.
Tu Bai heard himself speak, his voice trembling.
Those massive Cursed Spirit shadows drew closer again. The Customs Official grabbed that "Tu Bai" and slapped handcuffs on him. The self within the Illusion began to struggle and scream, but the voice was cut off, leaving nothing but a silent shriek.