BOOM.
Just as the group was about to slam into the ground with lethal velocity, the hard pavement exploded outward.
Several thick, green vines shot up from the earth, snatching the "Cleaners" out of the air one by one and gently depositing them onto the ground.
"Touchdown, boys. Safe and sound."
Shin Kiyono, whose smile was the most terrifying thing about him, made the "Release" hand sign. The vines wrapped around everyone's waists instantly uncoiled and zipped back underground, leaving only a bottomless pit in front of them.
"Kenmei, you need to work on your nerves."
Kiyono noticed Kenmei's pale face and assumed the kid's heart couldn't handle the thrill of a parachute-less jump, so he threw a little shade.
"No, it's just a little recent PTSD."
Kenmei muttered something that didn't make much sense to anyone else. Only he knew that getting yanked out of his seat by Mr. Akutagawa and free-falling wasn't the problem. The real trauma came from being intercepted in mid-air by Kiyono's vines.
In the dark of night, those twisting vines looked exactly like tentacles.
Kenmei had almost panic-blasted the vines that were there to save him with Psychic energy. Thankfully, he realized in time that it was just Kiyono's Cursed Technique—[Growth]—which used Cursed Energy to rapidly expand plant seeds into massive proportions.
As comrades in arms, they knew each other's abilities well. Akutagawa's split-second decision to jump was based entirely on his trust in his team's powers.
"Save the chatter."
Akutagawa, who had thrown Kenmei onto the nearest vine in mid-air and surfed down on another one himself, rolled expertly off a root and landed on his feet.
"The enemy is still here."
THUD.
"Yeah... bastard made me look bad."
Ishihara, the most aggressive of the bunch, slammed the giant hammer on his shoulder onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and denting the asphalt.
"If I don't kill this piece of trash, I won't be able to sleep tonight."
"Special Grade?"
Kenmei stared at the entity looming in the darkness, flickering in and out of the firelight. The roaring flames around it were twisted, forming blood-red serpents of fire at its side.
The asphalt road was melting under the intense heat, releasing a pungent, chemical stench.
Unlike the hallucination of the cherry tree, this time the terrifying Cursed Spirit was close enough to touch.
Kenmei's Flesh Hound, lurking in his shadow, looked like a toy poodle compared to this lizard-like behemoth.
It had six legs and was covered in black scales. Its back carried a grotesque cargo: eight massive heads with human faces, their mouths gaping open and venting steam. It looked like that terrifying beam attack had been fired from there.
When Kenmei locked eyes with its pupils—filled with nothing but crimson tyranny—an overwhelming wave of malice hit him. His brain felt like it was being stabbed with needles, and the hair on his arms stood up.
It felt like a knife was gently caressing his heart—the stinging pain of the cut mixed with the dread of a fatal stab waiting to happen. It made it hard to breathe.
"No. It's Grade 1."
Mr. Akutagawa spoke calmly from beside Kenmei, offering no further explanation.
As the leader of the [Cleaners], he had to assess the situation and deploy his team immediately.
This was a high-level Curse attack. It was going to be messy.
"Takahashi, Kinoshita, Hongo, Kenmei. You four contact the Jujutsu Association and call for support from Tokyo Jujutsu High. Move these people to a safe location and search for any survivors."
"Ishihara, Kiyono, Iwata, and I will intercept the Grade 1 Curse. Our priority is to stall for time until backup arrives."
"Most importantly: Don't force it."
The support members had already been sent on rescue duty, so Akutagawa was speaking to the combat team.
The [Cleaners] were all Grade 1 Sorcerers, but their bodies had suffered irreversible damage from a lifetime of battles. They could no longer sustain high-intensity combat for long.
"Big Bro is talking to you, Ishihara."
Kiyono, wearing his trademark grin, nudged Ishihara, who had just let out an annoyed tsk.
"Watch yourself. You just got that prosthetic on your left leg replaced the day before yesterday. Don't break it in the fight again."
"Shut up, you Split-Mouth bastard. I don't need your advice."
Ishihara wasn't having it. He reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, practically exploding with rage.
Kiyono had lost half the skin around his mouth to a Curse years ago. After it healed, he looked a bit like the "Slit-Mouthed Woman" from Japanese urban legends.
Ishihara used it to mock him, and naturally, Kiyono hated the nickname.
"You wanna go, you damn cripple?"
Just as the two were about to trade more insults, a terrifyingly high concentration of Cursed Energy spiked less than a hundred yards away. They swallowed their words instantly.
At that distance, it was instantaneous. A black-and-white beam of destruction shot straight at Akutagawa's group.
BOOM!
Explosions roared. Sparks formed from high-density Cursed Energy splashed onto nearby parked cars, melting them into puddles of molten iron instantly. The core temperature was unimaginably high.
The unknown Cursed Spirit, sensing the Cursed Energy signatures of the four "two-legged beasts" vanish, revealed a glint of triumph in its brutal, bloody eyes.
But in the next second, twelve cyan vines—far thicker than the ones before—erupted from the ground beneath the Curse, binding it tight.
The color, hardness, and durability of these vines were leagues above the ones used for the rescue. This was Kiyono's serious combat magic. The eight heads on the Curse's back began to tear at the vines frantically, but the moment a vine was bitten off, it regenerated and grew back instantly.
It was taking a massive toll on the caster.
"Iwata!"
Hearing Kiyono's signal, the bald, muscular giant Iwata Akira—though completely blind—pinpointed the Curse's location by sound alone.
The muscle-bound man focused his gaze. His suit jacket exploded into shreds, revealing a body covered in scars and surgical stitches. He clenched his fists, and dazzling, earth-yellow Cursed Energy crackled around his knuckles like lightning.
"I may be clumsy..."
Iwata slammed his fists heavily into the ground. A massive force tore through the earth, traveling over three hundred feet from his feet directly to the Curse.
"...but I will do my best!"
RUMBLE!
A Cursed Energy fluctuation far more terrifying than Kiyono's rolled through the ground. Suddenly, two massive rock hands, formed from soil and reinforced concrete and standing nearly a hundred feet tall, rose up on either side of the bound Curse.
They clapped together, looking to crush the Curse flat in the palms of the earth.
Under the violent pressure of Iwata's technique, the black scales shattered. Filth as black as ink spurted from the Curse's body, spraying continuously into the surroundings.
"Now it's my turn!"
A voice full of vitality rang out in the night sky. A massive fireball appeared out of nowhere, lighting up the heavens and instantly drying out the air with its searing heat.
In mid-air, Ishihara leaped high, a look of pure excitement on his face. He raised his giant hammer, now wreathed in roaring flames, and brought it down hard toward the Grade 1 Curse's head.
The explosive crimson fire swallowed everything.
"[FLAME BURST]!"
Four men, one combo. A perfectly orchestrated execution.