What Kind of Special Grade Cursed Spirit Are You?

For his grand plan, Kensaku had schemed for a millennium.

Over that time, he’d hopped between bodies like a hermit crab, ditching the old “shell” the second he found a better, more fitting one, all in relentless pursuit of his lofty ideals.

He’d even stuffed himself into a woman’s body, personally enduring the agony of childbirth to produce the most crucial pawn in his plan.

Honestly, it hurt like hell.

He’d been lost, wanted to give up, even doubted himself!

But he powered through!

Kensaku saw his life as a grand, sprawling inspirational epic.

No one had more grit and perseverance than him.

No! One!

He played everyone like pawns, his plans seamless.

He wasn’t fate’s favorite, yet he outlived prodigy after prodigy, his life spanning a thousand years.

But what was happening now?

Why was Gojo Satoru here?

Was he exposed? Since when?

Fate…

Are you messing with me?

Never favoring me was one thing, but now you’re out to finish me off?

Kensaku swallowed hard, instinctively mimicking the original owner’s expression to save his skin. But his fear was so intense that his brows knotted, twisting into an ugly smile: “…Satoru, what’re you talking about?”

His mind raced through his stash of life-saving tricks, only to realize, with dread, that even with those, escaping the strongest of this era was a long shot.

If the guy opened his domain, Kensaku was done for.

Kensaku hated cheaters his whole life.

Was he about to crash and burn?

Kensaku gritted his teeth.

Utterly ridiculous!

No way! Absolutely no way!!

“Shut up…”

Gojo Satoru quietly silenced the monster wearing his best friend’s skin.

His voice was hoarse, veins bulging on the back of his hand, his grip so tight it nearly crushed the shoulder beneath.

…His mistake.

He’d handle it.

In a split second, Gojo Satoru’s mind flashed with guesses about Kensaku’s identity.

Noticing the obvious stitch marks on the body’s forehead, it was like grabbing the starting thread of a tangled mess—thoughts started to form.

Kensaku winced in pain but stayed silent like a tough guy: “…”

No way.

He couldn’t just sit and wait to die.

Rolling his eyes, he decided to drag the Special Grade Cursed Spirit watching from the sidelines into the mess.

He yelled, face twisted: “Jogo! What’re you waiting for?!”

Go for it, Jogo!

Consider it payback for snapping at me earlier!

At that, Jogo: “…”

Jogo subtly shuffled his little feet.

—Time to bolt!!

—

He loved a fight, but he wasn’t stupid!

Last time he met the Curse User, the guy had analyzed the strongest sorcerer of today, all warnings about how Jogo couldn’t win.

Jogo had been a bit skeptical back then.

Thought the guy was hyping it up to boost his own value.

But… seeing this now, the white-haired sorcerer pinning Geto down with one hand, leaving him desperate and begging for help—wouldn’t Jogo just be throwing himself into the meat grinder?

He could die, but it had to mean something.

Plus.

Who’re you? We tight or something?

Jogo planned to head back and get Nidie to take out both these humans.

Maybe he could even team up with Nidie for an epic, blood-pumping combo!

Way more fun than fighting with Mahito.

This was the battle! The thrill!

Heh heh.

Seeing Jogo completely ignore him, sprinting back to the domain, Kensaku was floored, barely believing his eyes: “!!!”

What…

Did I hire an actor?

Shock turned to fury.

Was Jogo sick in the head?

Was he nuts?!!

Didn’t he love fighting?

Didn’t he wanna throw down with Gojo Satoru?!

Didn’t he brag about roasting him?!

I stopped you from rushing to your death before, and you pouted like you could hang a kettle on your lip, all disappointed.

Now he’s right in front of you—why aren’t you going for it?! Huh?!

All that edgy, violent talk was just hot air?

Jogo… what kinda Special Grade Cursed Spirit are you?!!

I look down on you!

Coward! Trash!!

Picking you as a partner was the biggest mistake of my life!

Kensaku let loose a string of colorful curses in his head.

In all his years, he’d never seen an actor on Jogo’s level!

We’re at the championship match, and you run?

Glancing coldly at the Cursed Spirit’s panicked retreat, Gojo Satoru shifted his focus, unbothered.

Cursed Spirits could be dealt with anytime.

Right now… this guy was priority.

Seeing Gojo Satoru not even chase the fleeing Cursed Spirit, just holding him down, Kensaku started to panic for real, lips trembling: “Quit joking, Satoru…”

Bro, new account, don’t mess with me.

He didn’t realize that the more he mimicked poorly, the more it spiked Gojo Satoru’s rage meter.

Kensaku heard Gojo Satoru let out a laugh.

No laugh would’ve been fine, but that laugh sent a shiver through him, making him feel like his end was near.

In a thousand years, no one had ever cornered him like this. Toying with those idiot genius sorcerers was like playing with dogs to him.

Kensaku raged helplessly.

He felt like his life was about to derail.

The hand on his shoulder kept tightening.

Crack crack crack.

His arm lost all strength—Kensaku knew the bones were completely shattered.

Yet Gojo Satoru kept suppressing him with cursed energy, so even reverse cursed technique was off the table. All he could do was feel the deep pain radiating from his body.

Kensaku grimaced.

This time he couldn’t hold it, letting out a soft “Hiss—!” of pain.

…Bro, you just gonna keep crushing?

“I think there’s a misunderstanding…” Kensaku gasped, clinging to life.

Every second stalled was a second gained!

He held a faint hope.

Kensaku knew Dagon’s domain was ahead, with at least three Special Grade Cursed Spirits inside.

Maybe… maybe Jogo was going back to rally them?

If Jogo came back to save him…

He might grudgingly curse him one less time after Jogo died.

Suddenly, the hand crushing his shoulder shifted to a chokehold.

The sorcerer’s long hand seemed inexhaustible, grabbing Kensaku’s neck and lifting him off the ground, feet dangling.

“White hair, green eyes—seen a guy like that?” Gojo Satoru asked coldly.

Treated like this, Kensaku instinctively struggled, trying to pry off the hand choking him. But even pouring in cursed energy, he couldn’t budge it an inch.

Kensaku: “…”

Kensaku was practically rolling his eyes.

Put me down, man—with you strangling me, how am I supposed to talk?

Luckily, Gojo Satoru realized he couldn’t speak like this and casually tossed Kensaku to the ground.

The second his butt hit the dirt, Kensaku thought of cutting his losses, abandoning this body he liked so much.

Pick it up, let it go!

Swap shells, and he’d be a hero again.

But the moment the idea sparked, searing pain shot through his limbs.

—His tendons and bones were wrecked, completely robbing him of movement.

His hands, meant to form escape techniques, got special attention—fingers twisted, the bones inside obviously shattered to bits.

Eyes wide, Kensaku was in too much pain to even scream, only letting out meaningless groans from his throat.

…This generation’s Six Eyes is ruthless!

—

Gojo Satoru asked the same question again.

His voice somehow got even colder.

Sensing Dagon’s domain starting to fade, confirming these useless Cursed Spirits were really ditching him to flee, Kensaku’s last hope crumbled.

After all his calculations, he never imagined he’d die so pointlessly.

He went quiet for a moment, then forced a malicious grin: “Ha?”

“Who knows, maybe I offed him without thinking.”

Screw it, nobody’s making it out alive.

Even though he had no clue who the guy Gojo Satoru was talking about, Kensaku wanted to gross him out one last time.

Recalling how Jogo was weirdly pissy today, Kensaku guessed the guy Gojo Satoru was looking for might’ve already been killed by the Cursed Spirits.

Don’t let Jogo’s current rat-like scampering fool you—his strength was legit, and few Jujutsu Sorcerers could match him.

Gojo Satoru didn’t respond.

But Kensaku was no rookie—living a millennium made him sharp at reading emotions.

Spotting the sorcerer’s mood shift, Kensaku’s grin widened, sprawling on the ground: “Go look now, you might still find the body.”

“Oh, he was screaming so bad—it was music to my ears, so I played with him a bit longer.”

Still not satisfied, he kept going: “And this body? Really useful, I’m thrilled.”

“Speaking of, I owe you one. If you hadn’t clung to some naïve, old-school ‘bury the dead’ nonsense, I might not have found a body this perfect. Thanks, man.”

“Oh, what was that green-eyed guy’s name again?” Kensaku let out a string of gleeful laughs: “He was so weak—his only redeeming quality was entertaining me for a minute.”

Piss you off, piss you off!

Kensaku spewed trash talk nonstop.

“…That your last words?”

Gojo Satoru’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing within.

Furious blood surged in his veins, his knuckles whitening from clenching.

His mouth snapped shut like it was glued, Kensaku’s expression froze, belatedly realizing…

Oops.

Did he overdo the taunting?

What could’ve been a quick death—would Gojo Satoru now put him through the top ten tortures before letting him die?

—

Jogo didn’t look back, abandoning his former “dream partner.”

He huffed and puffed back into Dagon’s domain, his clothes flapping from the sprint, grabbing Lin Ge’s hand and raising his voice: “Nidie, it’s your time to shine!”

He’d been waiting for this moment forever!

Jogo excitedly pointed at the two humans outside the barrier, his scarlet eyes blazing with fight: “Let’s take those two out together, yeah?”

Can’t hold back! Can’t hold back!

His flames were itching to burst.

How should he fight later? Opening with his domain right away might be too much—end the fight too quick, no flair.

But he really wanted to show off in front of his new buddy!

What’s the point of being a Cursed Spirit if you don’t flex?

Honestly, Jogo thought his domain was sick!

No, beyond sick!

Lin Ge: “.”

Lin Ge’s face turned green.

Huh?

Fight Strawberry Shortcake?

Mahito, always down for chaos, forgot his hair drama and eagerly signed up: “I’m in, I’m in!”

Dagon slowly climbed ashore, burbling a couple times.

Meaning he wanted in too.

Lin Ge finally got a good look at Dagon’s full form.

Smelled like takoyaki, looked like it too.

All red and puffy, seemed tasty.

Hanami was a given.

Fighting? She was all in.

Hanami was already cracking her knuckles, warming up. Spinning her wrists, occasionally kicking a leg, like she was doing radio calisthenics.

Glancing around at the pumped-up Cursed Spirits, Lin Ge felt a headache coming.

Strawberry Shortcake seemed to know the Curse User.

Judging by his face, it wasn’t just casual acquaintance…

It even took priority over exorcising Special Grade Cursed Spirits.

He’d messaged Gojo Satoru hoping he’d bring reliable Jujutsu Sorcerers to sweep the place, not expecting the guy to be so bold, charging in solo.

If these Special Grade Cursed Spirits joined the fray… Strawberry Shortcake against five—well, counting Lin Ge, maybe 1.5 vs. 5…

Wouldn’t that just hand the Curse User outside a golden escape ticket?

For some reason, Lin Ge felt the Curse User was way trickier than these Cursed Spirits. If he got away, it’d be a massive pain later…

Just a gut feeling.

—

With that in mind.

“I can fight,” Lin Ge said, but before the Cursed Spirits could cheer, he switched gears: “But…”

He sighed, looking troubled.

Jogo, impatient as ever, blurted: “But what?”

Ugh, so frustrating!

Nidie was great and all, but he talked so slow.

Lin Ge put on a grim face: “I can sense it—that guy out there’s strong… Even if we all gang up, someone’s gonna get hurt, or worse, die…”

Jogo wasn’t buying it, thinking Lin Ge was overreacting: “No way?”

Nidie was too modest.

Five Special Grade Cursed Spirits—they’d wear the guy down eventually.

Lin Ge shook his head: “No, you guys don’t get it.”

He straightened up, pulling his old trick: “I’ve got no reason to lie—don’t you trust me?”

Mahito raised his hand first: “I trust you!”

Heh, beat Jogo this time!

Jogo shot Mahito a glare: “…So what do we do?”

He hadn’t really believed it.

But Mahito’s big mouth moved too fast.

Some weird competitive streak kicked in, and Jogo grudgingly said something he didn’t mean.

Seeing them bite, Lin Ge was inwardly thrilled but kept a conflicted look: “Winning’s not impossible… but my technique’s kinda special… ugh, I need everyone’s help.”

No obstacles? Make some!

Doesn’t need to be fancy—just effective.

Mahito blinked, curiosity in his eyes: “Of course, what do you need us to do?”

“I’m kinda embarrassed to say.”

Jogo stepped up without hesitation: “Just say it!”

Hanami: “+%&#…” I’ll do whatever I can.

Dagon burbled twice.

Under the Cursed Spirits’ eager stares, Lin Ge squirmed: “Can you guys… let me take a bite?”

He held up one finger: “Just a tiny one.”

Cursed Spirits: “?”

Huh?