"Doing something foolish?"
Naobito Zenin didn't understand what Souma Gojo meant. However, the man's presence alone within the Zenin estate signaled that something seismic was about to occur. A cold, heavy knot of dread began to tighten in Naobito's chest.
Souma glanced at him, his voice carrying a calm, almost terrifying reassurance. "Relax. Despite the history between the Gojo and the Zenin, I have no intention of escalating things to an all-out war. I won't be the one to raise a hand."
Naobito felt a fleeting sense of relief. But before he could truly exhale, Souma offered a thin, enigmatic smile.
"However... if the Zenin clan decides to tear itself apart from the inside, well, that's none of my business. And truthfully, it's none of the Jujutsu Headquarters' business either. After all, it's just a 'family matter,' right?"
Souma took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea. "That was the logic your people came up with, wasn't it?"
Naobito froze. Family matters. Fratricide.
He recalled the expressions on Ogi's, Naoya's, and Jinichi's faces as they had left the meeting—the resentment, the ambition, the cold fury. His heart skipped a beat. He moved to stand, intent on checking the situation outside, but an invisible, mountain-like pressure suddenly clamped down on him. His limbs turned to lead, pinning him to his seat.
"Principal Zenin," Souma said, his eyes never leaving his cup. "I said, don't do anything foolish."
Inside the Warehouse
Suguru Geto finished administering a specialized vial of medicine to Mai Zenin. He followed it with a precise application of Reverse Cursed Technique, beginning the grueling process of reattaching and knitting together her mangled limbs.
Satoru Gojo let out a low whistle. "This girl... she drained the last of her sister's cursed energy. She was actually planning to use Construction to recreate True Steel Hou at the cost of her own life. That's how she was supposed to die, wasn't it?"
Satoru's eyes were hidden behind his bandages, but his tone was uncharacteristically somber. "Holding onto a death wish to leave everything for her sister, tethering her soul to a blade... What a stubborn kid."
"That's enough, Satoru," Geto said, lifting the unconscious Mai into his arms. "Let's get her out of here. Whatever happens next in the Zenin estate, it's best if our names aren't attached to it."
Satoru waved a hand, and the space before them tore open like parchment, revealing a swirling rift of void. Maki stood frozen, watching the two legendary sorcerers with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Gojo... Gojo-sensei..."
Satoru paused, looking back at her with a light, encouraging smirk. "Just pretend we were never here, Maki. Do what you have to do."
"We'll be waiting for you back at the school."
He gave a casual wave as he stepped into the rift, his silhouette vanishing into the darkness. The crack in reality sealed shut instantly, leaving no trace, no scent—as if the world's strongest sorcerers had merely been a fever dream.
Maki stood in the silence, trembling. She reached up and pinched her arm. Hard.
"Ow..."
It wasn't a dream. She looked down at her chest; the jagged wound Ogi had dealt her was gone, replaced by fresh, pink scar tissue. The invisible shackle that had stifled her soul since birth was gone. Her blood felt like liquid fire, surging through every inch of her flesh.
Her body felt... impossibly light.
Roar—
The snarl of a cursed spirit broke her trance. With the two overwhelming auras gone, the low-level curses in the room regained their predatory courage. To them, Maki—who now possessed zero cursed energy—was nothing more than a lamb for the slaughter.
Maki's eyes sharpened, turning as cold as whetted steel.
Do what I have to do?
Mai... I'm just glad you're still alive. I won't let you ever set foot in this disgusting house again.
I don't know if 'destroying everything' was just your final, desperate wish... but if it makes you happy... then I'll use the ruins of the Zenin clan as a gift for our rebirth.
BOOM!!!
In the deep, shadowed corridor of the storehouse, Ogi Zenin came to a sudden halt.
"The cursed spirits... they've all vanished!"
Frowning, he turned and hurried back toward the cell. He hadn't gone ten paces before he came face-to-face with Maki.
A suffocating pressure, like a rising tide, crashed into him. Ogi's pupils shrank. For a terrifying, fleeting second, he didn't see his daughter. He saw Toji Fushiguro.
He fought to suppress the primal urge to flee, but his hands, his feet, his very heart were vibrating with a terror he couldn't control.
My body remembers...
That panic... that suffocating powerlessness... the fear I spent half my life trying to forget!
Maki looked at Ogi. There was no hatred in her eyes, no lingering resentment. There was nothing. She looked at him as one might look at a stranger, or perhaps, an insect beneath a boot.
That gaze ignited a spark of twisted pride within Ogi. For a man who had lived in luxury and power, being looked down upon by a "failure" was the ultimate insult. His warped ego screamed for blood. He settled into an iaido stance, roaring at her to drown out his own fear.
"Still breathing, are you? Fine! This time I'll do it myself! I'll burn your very marrow to ash!"
"Technique Release: Blazing Visage!"
Cursed energy erupted into a localized inferno, the air around him shimmering with heat. As the second-in-command of the Zenin, Ogi's strength was undisputed—the very peak of Grade 1.
But Grade 1 was still only Grade 1.
Maki watched him. The stance that had seemed invincible ten minutes ago now looked like a sieve of openings and flaws.
"Come then, you failure!" Ogi screamed, his voice cracking.
Zing!
The sound of steel meeting air hissed past his ears.
In the next heartbeat, his consciousness plunged into darkness. Ogi's skull, along with half of his brain, was sheared away in a single, clean stroke. His body remained standing for a moment, still locked in his iaido posture. In the face of such absolute disparity, he hadn't even realized he had died.
Maki stepped past his corpse without a word and walked out into the moonlight.
"This is bad! This is very bad!"
In a private room, Naoya and Jinichi were plotting their next move when Rantai Zenin burst in, his face ghostly pale.
"Maki has gone insane! She killed Master Ogi!"
"The Kukuru Unit is mobilizing as we speak!"
Jinichi stood abruptly, his brow furrowing. "What? Ogi is dead? Maki did that...?"
Naoya, however, let a slow, cruel smirk spread across his face. "Now this is getting interesting."
At the same time, near the training grounds:
"Master Ogi died at the hands of that waste?"
Nobuaki Zenin, captain of the Kukuru Unit, spoke with a sneer. "It must have been a sneak attack. Even a master like Ogi has to sleep or use the latrine. She's his daughter; getting close for a backstab would be child's play."
To the Zenin, the name "Maki Zenin" had always been synonymous with "failure."
Nobuaki waved a dismissive hand. "End this quickly. I have a succession banquet to attend. And remember—capture her alive. I want the honor of killing her myself."
Behind him, dozens of soldiers from the Kukuru Unit—the non-technique users of the clan—surged forward like a tide.
Maki stood in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by a sea of blades. She slowly raised True Steel Hou, a savage, predatory grin finally touching her lips.
The slaughter had begun.
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