The air in the subway trembled—not from an earthquake, but from something far more dangerous.
Satoru Gojo stood amid the wreckage of cursed corpses and twisted steel, his white blindfold fluttering in the dead wind.
The time for jokes had ended.
Choso surged forward, surrounded by boiling, blood-soaked technique. His hands twisted in a cursed configuration—Supernova: Blood Edge Burst—and he launched spheres of compressed blood at lightning speed.
Gojo didn't move.
He simply blinked.
And everything—stopped.
The blood bullets disintegrated mid-air as they brushed the edge of Gojo's Infinity. He stepped forward, slow, precise.
"You like turning humans into curses?" Gojo's voice echoed with venom.
Choso barely had time to widen his eyes before Gojo appeared in front of him.
CRACK.
A knee to the gut. Then a palm strike to the chest that shattered ribs. Choso spat blood mid-air as Gojo struck again—and again—and again. Every hit landed like a truck. Bones broke. Cursed blood spilled like a fountain.
"You. Don't. Get. To. Do. That. Here."
One final strike—
Gojo's hand slammed Choso's face into the subway pillar, cratering it with cursed backlash.
Before Choso could even fall, Gojo had already turned.
A fireball soared at him from the right.
Jogo.
Gojo didn't dodge. He stepped into the flame, let it burn against Infinity, and walked through it like a ghost.
"Try harder," he muttered.
And then—he punched.
His fist connected with Jogo's temple like a meteor, sending the volcano-headed curse flying across the subway platform and into the opposite wall. The explosion left a thirty-foot crater.
Then—
Hanami appeared.
The forest curse launched a barrage of sharpened branches and wooden lances from all directions, intending to trap Gojo and pierce him from all sides.
Gojo didn't flinch.
He moved like lightning.
In a blur, he was behind Hanami. His hand reached forward—not in a strike, but a slow, clawed grasp.
Hanami turned—
Too late.
Gojo's fingers dug into the cursed roots extending from Hanami's eyes. He ripped.
Hanami screamed—a sound that tore through the souls of anyone nearby.
Gojo yanked the roots free, and with his other hand, channeled pure cursed heat.
"Burn."
Hanami's face ignited, blue flame consuming the core from within.
A second later, the curse was nothing but dust on the tracks.
Gojo stood amid the chaos.
Calm. Unmoving. Unchallenged.
His blindfold was scorched slightly at the edges, but his smirk was intact.
He turned his gaze to Jogo, who was barely picking himself up.
"You're next."
His voice was deathly calm.
"Be prepared."