Shiro Sakamaki stared up at the ancient mansion, a breath catching in his throat.
Darkness poured from it like a ruptured dam. Curses—hundreds of them—billowed into the sky, twisting and writhing until they blotted out the sun itself. Not a single ray of light could pierce the malignant fog.
Now it made sense—why the air felt frigid in broad daylight. The sheer volume of resentment here choked out all warmth, smothering the world in negative energy and suffocating cold.
Before the arrival of the Jujutsu Sorcerers, Shiro had Hiratsuka Shizuka drive them outside the mansion's influence. Only then did Yukinoshita Haruno's condition begin to improve.
"This place was fine yesterday," Hiratsuka muttered, rubbing goosebumps from her arms. "What the hell happened overnight?"
Haruno looked far worse. Her face had taken on a sickly blue pallor, her breath shallow. The curse's influence was eating away at her, and fast.
Shiro raised his hand. A soft golden light pulsed from his palm, washing over her. The oppressive aura receded, and warmth returned to her limbs. Haruno let out a gentle, involuntary moan of relief.
"Ara… Sakamaki-kun is so reliable," she murmured. "I might get hooked on this feeling."
This time, she wasn't teasing. The safety she felt in his presence—real and undeniable—left her lightheaded.
But Shiro, ever oblivious, simply replied, "Don't get too comfortable. I charge for this kind of thing."
Haruno rolled her eyes, but the flirtation faded quickly. Shiro's expression had turned serious again.
Something was coming.
Powerful cursed energy approached from the distance—multiple sources. One of them was strong enough to make even Shiro tense up. Whoever was in that group… wasn't someone he could underestimate.
Moments later, a fleet of black sedans rolled to a stop beside them. The first few cars belonged to the Supernatural Administration's response team. Shiro scanned the group: three Tier 10 mid-levels, one Tier 9 low-level, and Hiratsuka herself as a Tier 9 mid-level. That was it. Their entire combat force.
Shiro frowned.
This is the official response team? They're barely above cannon fodder.
Hiratsuka noticed the look and coughed awkwardly. "Yeah… this is what we've got. Not exactly impressive, huh?"
Before Shiro could respond, the final car's door opened—and from it stepped someone familiar.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. A dark blue uniform and a black blindfold.
Gojo Satoru.
The future strongest sorcerer. The wielder of the Limitless Technique and the Six Eyes. Even now, before reaching his peak, his cursed energy pulsed like a thunderstorm beneath calm waters.
In terms of raw power, Shiro judged their current strength as roughly equal—but given the unique properties of Gojo's technique, he knew he'd be at a disadvantage in a straight fight.
Two more figures emerged from the car, both vaguely familiar, though Shiro couldn't immediately place them. One, however, stood out by his absence—his personal favorite from the original series, Nanami Kento, was nowhere to be seen.
"Yo! You guys are early. Want to grab something to eat before we get started?" Gojo grinned, holding up a bag of daifuku like a peace offering.
Hiratsuka and Haruno both declined—still full from breakfast—but Shiro accepted one.
"Thanks. A bit sweet for my taste, though."
"Sweet is life," Gojo said matter-of-factly. "Anyway, name's Gojo Satoru. And you are?"
"Shiro Sakamaki."
Gojo tilted his head. "Don't think I've heard of you."
"But I've heard of you—'Grade 1 Sorcerer of Jujutsu High,' right?"
Gojo smirked, waving off the praise. "Ah, that's just hype. I'm just a bit stronger than most people."
As he struck a pose, Haruno couldn't help but glance at him sideways, whispering to Shiro, "He doesn't seem… all that reliable."
Shiro gave her a reassuring nod, and she relaxed.
Behind Gojo, the other two sorcerers stepped forward.
"Let me introduce my classmates," Gojo said. "This gloomy guy here is Geto Suguru, and the lady in the back is Shoko Ieiri."
Both gave curt nods. Geto's expression was particularly cold.
It was clear the tension between him and Gojo ran deeper than surface-level rivalry. They were known as problem children back at Jujutsu High—constantly bickering, never agreeing—but still inseparable in their own way.
What annoyed Geto now was that Shiro had ignored him completely, focusing entirely on Gojo. For someone as proud as Geto, being overlooked like that stung.
Still, he held his tongue. There were more pressing matters.
The cursed spirit inside the mansion had begun to stir. Its energy was spreading—widening. Shiro could sense it, too. A prototype domain was forming.
Once complete, it would be chaos.
"We can talk later," Geto said, stepping forward. "If that domain fully manifests, this entire district will become a slaughterhouse. We need to act."
"Agreed," Gojo replied, suddenly serious.
He turned to Haruno. "Miss Yukinoshita, I'm going to need your help."
"Me?" Haruno blinked, startled. "But I… I can't even get near that thing."
"That's exactly why," Geto added. "You carry its curse. If it sees you again, it'll want to finish the job—and feeding on you could accelerate its evolution. That makes you the perfect lure."
Haruno's eyes widened.
Geto's voice softened, just slightly. "I won't sugarcoat it. It's risky. But once that domain expands, it won't be just you in danger. We're talking dozens—maybe hundreds of casualties."
He looked her in the eyes. "We need your help. For everyone's sake."
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