Chapter 120 – The Union of Nine and Ten
With cold amusement in his eyes, Kenjaku turned to his wounded creation.
"Well," he said casually, "if you still insist on knowing Itadori Yuji's purpose… he's simply a vessel. Nothing more."
Choso's eyes widened.
Kenjaku went on, his tone light but cruel.
"In fact, he's already serving that purpose beautifully. His existence marks the beginning of everything.
As long as that thing coexists with Sukuna, the chain of curses will never break. Think of him as the eye of a new storm — the center of this age's calamity."
"—You dare!"
The word ripped from Choso's throat like a roar. Rage boiled his blood to vapor. In the next instant, Piercing Blood shot from his palms — a searing crimson beam that tore through the air straight for Kenjaku.
"How dare you call my brother the center of calamity!"
Kenjaku tilted his head and sidestepped with ease, the beam slicing harmlessly past.
Choso's voice thundered again, trembling with fury:
"You're wrong! The center of every disaster isn't Yuji — it's you! You're the source of it all! As long as you live, this world will never know peace!"
But his anger blinded him.
When he tried to step forward, he realized his legs were bound — several writhing curses had already coiled around him.
"Bang!"
Kenjaku appeared in front of him in an instant. His fist struck like a hammer, smashing Choso to the ground.
Pain shot through every nerve, but Choso barely registered it. What truly burned him was the man's sneering tone.
"So you're just the scout," Kenjaku mused, eyes glinting. "You came to test my abilities, didn't you? Let me guess… who sent you?"
He paused deliberately, then smiled.
"Yuki Tsukumo, perhaps? There's no one else left who could challenge me."
Gojo Satoru was sealed. Okkotsu and Zen'in were trapped inside the Culling Game.
Only Tsukumo Yuki, the last Special Grade sorcerer, was still free — and likely watching from somewhere nearby.
"You forced me to use Cursed Spirit Manipulation, but unfortunately, I've only been using low-grade spirits so far." His foot pressed down onto Choso's skull. "You're not even worth the effort of calling out stronger ones."
Then, with icy disdain, he added:
"You're nothing but a failed prototype. Know your place, son."
"—You know nothing!"
Choso roared and grabbed Kenjaku's ankle, pouring all his rage into his blood.
"Boom!"
His cursed blood detonated, blowing Kenjaku's foot apart in a burst of gore.
The scientist's smile vanished. His eyes narrowed — cold, reptilian.
In the next moment, thousands of cursed spirits erupted from the ground like a plague of vermin, swarming Choso from every direction.
"Crash!!"
The horde slammed into him, tearing his flesh open, ripping his robes to shreds. His body hit the floor hard — motionless, his breath shallow, his blood pooling beneath him.
Kenjaku walked toward him slowly, his voice measured, almost fatherly.
"Do you know what defines a Special Grade? Someone capable of destroying an entire nation.
Besides Gojo Satoru, the original owner of this body — Geto Suguru — could do the same."
He gestured lazily. All around him, curses hissed and pulsed with power.
"Even the weakest curse, when multiplied and unified by my technique, becomes an army. Against that, not even a Grade 1 sorcerer could stand."
In the Star Corridor, Tengen's calm façade began to crack. Her voice trembled.
"Enough… he'll die if this continues."
But Tsukumo Yuki remained still, eyes focused and sharp.
"Not yet," she murmured. "If he can make Kenjaku reveal one more technique, that's our chance."
Back on the battlefield, Choso lay bleeding — his body broken, but his mind alive, burning with guilt.
I can't even land a single blow…
His father mocked him, belittled his brothers, and still he was powerless.
He wasn't a worthy brother — not yet.
But the thought of Yuji, of the siblings who had fallen before him, reignited the blood in his veins.
"Brothers…" he whispered hoarsely, "lend me your strength!"
"BOOM!"
The air exploded in a cyclone of red.
A vortex of blood surged upward, swirling like a storm. Within it, Choso felt their warmth — their spirits, their faith, their bond.
"The Death Painting Wombs…" he murmured, eyes blazing. "My brothers…!"
When the light faded, Choso stood tall once more, his body radiating impossible energy — the combined strength of all nine Cursed Womb siblings.
Tears glimmered in his eyes, but his voice rang firm and proud.
"I can feel you all… every heartbeat, every breath. You're here with me!"
He raised his hand, blood coalescing into a crimson spear.
"Now — leave everything to your big brother!"
Kenjaku's face remained calm, almost amused.
"As the head of the Kamo clan, I probably know Red Blood Manipulation better than you ever will," he said softly. "This won't change anything."
Choso didn't flinch. His arm trembled, the air around him boiling with pressure.
"Piercing Blood!!"
The battlefield was engulfed in a flash of red — the wrath of ten souls fused into one.
A crimson flash tore through the ruins.
The ferocious blood spear roared across the air, screaming straight for Kenjaku.
He tilted his head slightly — and the beam missed by inches.
Piercing Blood — swift, deadly, and precise — but only at the instant of release.
Once its trajectory was loosed, Kenjaku knew it could never catch him again.
He exhaled faintly, shoulders relaxing—
—but that was his mistake.
Before he could blink, Choso's hands blurred, whipping the air. The blood suspended around him rippled, twisting into scalding crimson whips that lashed toward Kenjaku's position like a storm.
"—!"
Kenjaku leapt upward. The blood whips struck the ground with the force of artillery, shattering it into dust, the shockwave hurling Kenjaku backward.
In that instant, Choso appeared behind him — his back now framed by a radiant halo of blood, from which sprouted a pair of translucent wings.
It was his fallen brother Eso's ultimate technique —
"Corrosive Curse Art: Final Form — King of Wings."
The surge of energy doubled his speed.
In the blink of an eye, Choso closed in and unleashed a barrage of blows, fists and blood alike hammering down on his creator.
Kenjaku, however, looked almost bored.
Every strike that landed only hit the curses orbiting his body — the flashes of purification light from Choso's blood momentarily illuminating his smirking face.
With a flicker of cursed energy, Kenjaku vanished and reappeared atop a high branch, lounging as if watching a child's tantrum.
"The toxins in your blood," he said lazily, "don't work on your father."
Choso said nothing. He tore through the remaining curses, his eyes never leaving Kenjaku. Then, with a low growl, he threw a punch that cleaved the air apart.
The strike missed — or so it seemed — until his entire arm detached, still tethered by tendrils of blood, and the flying fist snapped around Kenjaku's throat, slamming him into the earth below.
The ground buckled with the impact.
Choso stood above the crater, his blood aura blazing — the power of nine brothers and one vessel surging through him.
Within him flowed the gifts of his siblings, and the indomitable strength of Itadori Yuji.
From the rubble, Kenjaku rose slowly, brushing the dust from his robes, his expression utterly indifferent.
No matter how fierce the attacks, he could always conjure more curses to block them.
No matter how desperate Choso's defiance, it meant nothing.
"To think you'd call that speed or power…" he said with a sigh. "You're still far below the standard."
Choso ignored the taunt. He pressed his palms together, forming a seal — silent, focused.
Then Kenjaku froze.
He finally noticed them — tiny spheres of blood scattered in a circle around him, gleaming faintly red.
They had been placed there bit by bit during the fight, each strike and feint nothing more than a setup to deliver them into position.
Choso's lips curved into a grim smile.
"Supernova."
"BOOM!!"
The blood orbs detonated simultaneously, ripping the earth apart.
The explosion cratered the entire field — molten stone, dust, and debris raining in every direction.
When the smoke cleared, Kenjaku still stood, untouched. The ground directly beneath his feet remained pristine.
"Finally," Choso said with a faint grin, "you used a technique other than Cursed Spirit Manipulation."
Even if he hadn't forced Kenjaku to open a Domain, he had at least confirmed the man possessed additional cursed techniques — invaluable information.
"Tch." Kenjaku clicked his tongue, irritation flashing in his eyes.
"To think a failed experiment like you could force me to reveal that much."
To him, it wasn't strategy — it was humiliation.
Then—
Whrrr.
From the sky above, hexagonal panels of light shimmered into existence, sliding apart like pieces of glass.
A figure stepped out of the void, her form wreathed in golden light — beside her coiled a massive bone-Garuda, its ribs gleaming like ivory blades.
Kenjaku turned, the faintest glint of amusement crossing his face.
"Ah… finally decided to show yourself?"
Yuki Tsukumo's boots touched the ground with a soft thud. Her gaze swept over the battered Choso, then settled coldly on Kenjaku.
"Choso," she said, her voice calm but steady, "you've done well. You've proven you're a true brother."
Her eyes hardened, power rippling through the air.
"From here on out… leave the rest to me."
And as the last of the blood rain fell upon the shattered earth, Special Grade Sorcerer Tsukumo Yuki stepped forward to face the monster who had played god for a thousand years.