Chapter 151 The Sorcerer Killer Exits, the Strongest Returns
"Do whatever you want."
In the ruined depths of the Tomb of the Star Corridor, Toji Fushiguro's voice was hoarse and low.
"But that brat has already been sold to the Zenin Family."
He looked at the check lying in front of him.
For a brief moment, something complicated passed through his eyes.
Surprise.
Mockery.
And, more than anything, a sense of relief he would never admit to.
The pride of the Sorcerer Killer had driven him to spend his whole life fighting against the Jujutsu World. Against the Zenin Family. Against every disgusting thing that had tried to chain him down.
But when it came to his own flesh and blood, he had never known what to do.
Megumi.
The son who had inherited the Ten Shadows Technique.
The child destined to be dragged into the filthy vortex of the Jujutsu World.
Toji slowly reached out with his burned hand and picked up the check from the ground.
It was only a thin piece of paper.
But in his hand, it felt heavier than lead.
He gave the black-haired young man before him one last deep look.
Yami.
A monster without a single trace of Cursed Energy, yet one who had crushed the Sorcerer Killer through nothing but flesh, swordsmanship, and an absurd will that refused to bend.
"You'd better keep your word."
Toji spat out another mouthful of blood.
A self-mocking sneer pulled at the corner of his mouth.
"The trash in the Zenin Family aren't good people. If you fail to protect that brat, I'll crawl back from hell just to laugh at you."
Yami looked at him calmly.
"I'll teach him myself."
His voice was steady.
"As for the Zenin Family, if they dare reach out, I don't mind cutting off every hand they have."
There was no heat in his tone.
Only absolute certainty.
Toji stared at him for a moment.
Then he laughed.
"Ha…"
The laugh grew rougher.
"Hahaha…"
"What an interesting guy. If I'd met you earlier, maybe things wouldn't have turned out like this."
The movement pulled at the wound across his chest, and Toji's laugh broke into a pained grimace.
"That bug."
He glanced at the Inventory Curse cowering and trembling near Yami's feet.
"You can borrow it for a few days. Just don't kill it. Everything I own is inside."
Yami picked up the Inventory Curse without hesitation and tucked it into his wide sleeve.
Toji said nothing more.
He turned around and began dragging his heavily wounded body toward the exit of the Tomb of the Star Corridor.
Every step was slow.
Every movement left blood dripping from the torn hem of his clothes, marking the broken floor behind him with a shocking trail of red.
His tall, lonely figure gradually disappeared into the dark passage.
The Sorcerer Killer had left the stage.
Yami watched the direction Toji vanished into.
Only after that presence fully disappeared did the tension in his body finally loosen.
"Hoo…"
He exhaled a long breath.
The air that left his lungs was hot enough to turn faintly white.
The dark red Demon Slayer Mark spread across his cheek and forehead began to fade at a visible speed. When the mark finally sank back beneath his skin, a crushing wave of exhaustion swept through his body.
His legs weakened.
For a moment, he nearly dropped to one knee.
"As expected…"
Yami planted Shiranui's scabbard against the ground to support himself, breathing heavily.
"This body still can't withstand the Demon Slayer Mark for long."
His body temperature began falling from its terrifying peak.
His heartbeat gradually slowed.
But every muscle in his body ached as if it had been torn apart and forced back together. His bones felt hollow. His nerves burned.
If Toji had chosen to fight to the death just now, Yami could still have won.
But the price would not have been small.
Fortunately, even that man still had one soft spot buried somewhere deep inside him.
Yami endured the exhaustion and turned toward the ruins not far away.
"Suguru."
He quickly walked over.
Suguru Geto lay among broken stone, his face pale as paper.
A massive wound had opened across his abdomen, deep enough to reveal bone. Blood had soaked the ground around him.
Riko Amanai knelt beside him, both hands pressed tightly over the wound. She was crying so hard her shoulders trembled.
"Geto, don't die! Wake up!"
Her tears fell one after another onto Geto's face.
When she heard Yami's footsteps, Riko jerked her head up as if she had found the last lifeline in the world.
"Big Brother Yami!"
Her voice cracked.
"Please, look at him! He's lost so much blood!"
Yami crouched beside Geto and quickly checked his injuries.
Transparent World had already closed, but with his heightened physical perception, he could still judge Geto's condition.
"Don't panic, Riko."
His voice lowered.
"The wound is serious, but it avoided his vital organs. Toji pulled back at the last moment, or rather, he was forced to interrupt the slash."
If Yami had not acted at that instant and forced Toji away with his speed, Suguru Geto would have been cut in half on the spot.
"As long as he's still breathing, Shoko can save him."
Yami tore a strip of cloth from his own clothes and helped Riko apply emergency pressure to the wound.
Geto's breathing was weak.
But stable.
This boy who always spoke of principles, who stood beside Satoru Gojo as one of the strongest, had finally shown how fragile even the strongest could be when forced into a true life and death crisis.
"It's fine now."
Yami patted Riko's shoulder.
"Tengen's assimilation failed. Toji has left. You're safe."
The moment those words reached her, the tension that had held Riko together finally snapped.
She threw herself into Yami's arms and cried.
Loudly.
Desperately.
All the fear, grief, pressure, and terror of being hunted poured out at once.
She did not have to die anymore.
She did not have to become the Star Plasma Vessel.
She could live like an ordinary girl.
Go to school.
Make friends.
Eat desserts.
See the world beyond the cage built for her.
Yami said nothing.
He simply let her cry, letting the tears soak into his clothes.
For a while, the only sounds in the ruined Tomb of the Star Corridor were Riko's sobs and the faint rustling from the ancient tree far above them.
Everything seemed to have settled.
Then, just as Yami prepared to lift Geto and bring Riko out of this underground space, the air changed.
Hum!
A terrifying surge of Cursed Energy erupted from the entrance of the Tomb of the Star Corridor without warning.
It was vast.
Violent.
So intense that the surrounding air visibly distorted.
Yami's pupils constricted.
His hand moved to Shiranui at once, and he pulled Riko firmly behind him.
This aura…
Madness.
Chaos.
And an arrogance that seemed to stand above everything in existence.
"Who is it?"
Riko stopped crying.
Her body trembled as she stared toward the entrance.
Yami kept his gaze fixed on the dark passage.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Heavy yet casual footsteps echoed through the silent underground space.
Each step sounded like the Grim Reaper knocking against their hearts.
Gradually, a figure emerged from the darkness.
It was a boy covered in blood.
His Jujutsu High uniform was torn to pieces. Dust and dried blood stained his whole body.
His iconic white hair hung messily across his forehead, clumped together with blood.
But the most terrifying thing was the state of his wounds.
The throat Toji had pierced.
The chest that had been stabbed through.
The thigh that had been cut open.
All of them were releasing faint white steam, healing and regenerating at a visible speed.
Muscle tissue wriggled.
Bone reshaped.
Flesh closed.
Reverse Cursed Technique.
And not just ordinary Reverse Cursed Technique.
An advanced, self-sustaining flow of regeneration.
"Satoru…"
Yami looked at the figure walking slowly toward them, his voice sinking.
Satoru Gojo.
The Six Eyes prodigy who should have been brutally killed by Toji outside the Tomb of the Star Corridor had returned.
Like a mad god crawling out of hell.
Gojo stopped.
He slowly raised his head.
Those Six Eyes, stained red by blood, now flickered with an unprecedented fanatic light.
He looked around.
He saw Suguru Geto, unconscious and heavily wounded.
He saw Riko Amanai, alive.
Finally, his gaze locked onto Yami, who stood among the ruins with his hand on his sword.
"Ah…"
Gojo laughed.
"So that's how it is."
His smile carried a chilling, almost neurotic quality.
He lifted one bloodstained finger and pointed at his own head.
"Sorry, Yami."
His voice was light.
Too light.
"Right now…"
The terrifying pressure around him flooded the entire Tomb of the Star Corridor like a physical force.
"My brain's a little messed up."
The resurrected strongest.
The awakened prodigy.
At the worst possible moment, carrying an overwhelming battle intent, Satoru Gojo had arrived.
....
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