JJK: Chapter 58

Title: Remnants

°°°

"It's not that I don’t want to take you, but look at you. Sure, you’re a husky, but I’m not going on a leisure trip. When the real fight starts, did you see how fierce that thing were? Where would you even run?"

After Shin Shuichi shared the breathtaking photos he had taken during his recent missions, the white wolf, who had been alternating between Panda and Maki as its companion lately, was visibly displeased.

Such a perfect place, and you didn’t take me?

The white wolf turned its back on Shin, occasionally glancing over with an accusatory look, clearly ignoring all of Shin’s explanations.

"Fine, fine. I’ll take you along this time. Happy now?"

Hearing this, the white wolf finally turned around. Its intelligent eyes fixed on Shin, its expression clearly saying: Are you sure you’re not lying to me?

—-—

“The mission location is in Yokohama. Pretty close, huh? Are they hiding right under everyone’s noses? These curse users sure are crafty.”

The curse users had recently been spotted in Yokohama, allegedly tied to a small local religious group. The specifics were unclear, but there was at least one Grade 1 curse user suspected to be among them. The identities of other potential members were unknown.

This task could have been assigned to a team of Grade 1 and Grade 2 sorcerers. However, Shin had no other assignments, and Gojo-sensei was off who-knows-where. Thus, the mission fell squarely on Shin’s shoulders.

There was no need to organize additional manpower, which carried the risk of casualties. Sending Shin alone was a much safer option. The power gap between Special Grade and Grade 1 curse users, or even curses themselves, was immense.

With accurate intel, success was essentially guaranteed. Yokohama wasn’t far from Tokyo, so after reviewing the briefing, Shin boarded the designated vehicle and set off.

---

The driver was not a familiar auxiliary supervisor like Ijichi or Nita but a new face. A man with a constant smile, though on closer inspection, the smile seemed fake—unnatural, like the camouflage of a venomous insect.

Shin didn’t care. He had no interest in unfamiliar people who made him uncomfortable. He barely acknowledged the man’s polite but subtly barbed attempts at conversation.

Upon arriving in Yokohama, Shin stepped out with the white wolf and headed straight for the mission site. The place was sizable, officially the base of a small religious sect. In reality, investigations had revealed it to be a front for the curse users.

It seemed they were plotting something. Their activities had attracted other curse users, leaving behind traces that led to their discovery. The targets were likely inside.

---

Inside the building, five individuals dressed in bizarre outfits were seated, four on one side and one alone on the other. The lone figure wore nothing but a black leather apron on his upper body. He was completely bald, with a mask covering his eyes and part of his nose.

Sprawled on the couch, he sneered. "What’s the problem? This isn’t a request—it’s a notification! I’m not the kind of guy to negotiate. If you don’t cooperate, the only path left for you is death. Or perhaps becoming one of my masterpieces wouldn’t be such a bad choice? Hahaha."

"You bastard," snapped a triangular-eyed, scar-faced man from the opposing group. "We’re not fools like Mimiko and Nanako! Suguru-sama is dead! Who do you think you are to order us around?"

"Hey, don’t bring up stuff I don’t understand. All I care about is—"

The bald man’s words were cut off by the sound of the door creaking open, drawing everyone's attention. Eyes filled with alertness, they stared at the now ajar door, from which a figure emerged.

A dog?

A large dog—by the looks of it, a husky—strolled in, panting with its tongue out as it curiously surveyed the room’s occupants.

Seeing the dog, a relatively normal-looking man exhaled in relief. "Who let a dog in here? What’s the security downstairs even doing?"

"Idiot! Have you ever seen a dog with this kind of cursed energy? That’s the enemy!" shouted the bald man, grabbing a spiked hammer he had at his side. But his focus wasn’t on the handsome, goofy-looking husky.

His eyes were fixed on the door, where footsteps echoed from the shadows.

"Huh? Quite the crowd here," came a calm voice as Shin Shuichi stepped into view.

A young boy stepped into the room, his short black ponytail swaying slightly. His lazy expression, paired with a face so striking it felt otherworldly to the room’s occupants, gave the impression of some spoiled young master who had wandered in by mistake.

“Let’s see… Nimori Riku, Larue, two small fry, and—oh? An unexpected bonus. Let me think... you must be Kumiya Juzo, right? You’re on the wanted list, too.”

“A sorcerer? You? A brat who hasn’t even grown a full set of whiskers yet? You’ve come to the wrong place. Not only will you die here today, but I’ll also track down your family and friends,” one of the so-called small fry snarled.

The man, initially tense at the possibility of an ambush by sorcerers, had let his guard down when only a dog and an ordinary-looking boy walked in. His temper, already volatile, exploded.

*Shhkk!*

The sound of water being forced out of a water pouch echoed, and before the man could finish his threats, his eyes widened as he clutched at his throat. Blood gushed uncontrollably between his fingers as his face turned an unnatural shade of bluish-purple.

At the doorway, Shin Shuichi lightly tapped his blade that appeared without anyone noticing. The crisp, resonant hum of the blade filled the room. The poison coating the blade was lethal to weaker enemies—such as the unfortunate man bleeding out on the floor. Whether he died from the neck wound or the venom was anyone’s guess.

---

The remaining four curse users froze in fear, their instincts screaming danger. They drew weapons or prepared cursed techniques, but hesitation kept them rooted. The speed and stealth of the attack left them unable to comprehend how Shin’s blade had even appeared.

The body of their fallen companion lay in a pool of blood. The large dog, sitting idly near the doorway, suddenly stood and walked outside. Shin clicked his tongue in irritation. “Damn mutt…” he muttered under his breath, glaring after it.

The curse users weren’t nearly as casual. A powerful, hostile sorcerer now stood before them, keeping them on high alert.

---

Kumiya Juzo, sensing an opportunity, leapt over the sofa and coffee table with a wicked grin. His hammer, heavy and unyielding, swung silently toward the back of Shin’s head.

In the next instant, the audience watched in disbelief as Juzo’s body was sent hurtling backward at an unnatural angle. He smashed through the reinforced glass coffee table and landed on the sofa, which slid into the wall from the impact.

The once-pristine leather couch was now soaked in blood. Juzo’s hammer had flown across the room, embedding itself in an unseen corner. His injuries were gruesome—his entire body was drenched in blood, his arms lay limp beneath him, and his face looked as if it had been shredded by a blade-filled machine. Most of his facial bones were exposed, with shattered flesh giving his eyes a grotesque, bulging appearance.

---

Shin turned, his eyes cold as he gazed at the fallen Juzo. Despite his grievous injuries, Juzo clung to life, his cursed energy barely keeping him conscious.

“Kumiya Juzo. A curse user notorious for crafting cursed tools in grotesque ways. Torturing and killing ordinary people and sorcerers alike, he uses their extreme emotions to create his tools. It’s no wonder you’re on the wanted list,” Shin remarked.

---

Shin’s voice was calm but carried a weight that sent chills down the spines of the remaining curse users.

"Allow me to reintroduce myself: Shin Shuichi, second-year at Jujutsu High. My mission? To clean up the remnants of the Parade of a Hundred Demons incident. Do you remember me?"

Nimori Riku and Larue broke into cold sweats. Ralu, in particular, recognized Shin from his time with Suguru Geto. Back then, the boy had a different hair color, but the face was unmistakable.

And during the raid, it was rumored that a young sorcerer by this name had slain the special-grade curse spirit Shuten-dōji. Could this truly be the same person?

---

Nimori, the scar-faced, triangular-eyed curse user, struggled under the immense pressure. Just as he prepared to launch a desperate attack, Larue—a shirtless man with blonde hair and pink heart-shaped pasties on his chest—stopped him.

“The fact that you haven’t acted yet… You must have a purpose,” Larue said, addressing Shin. His tone was measured, betraying his nervousness.

Shin’s gaze settled on him. 'Finally, someone with half a brain.'

“I need locations and names. Tell me where your comrades are, and I’ll let you live. Run, hide, and survive if you can. Your choice.”

“Never!” Nimori roared. “We’re family! You think I’d betray them? Do you take us for monkeys who’ll sell anything to save ourselves—”

---

Before Nimori could finish, Shin was suddenly in front of him. A single punch to the gut sent Nimori flying backward, spitting blood mixed with unidentifiable fragments as he crashed into the wall.

Larue didn’t even have time to activate a cursed technique before Shin dealt him a similar blow. Though his injuries were less severe than Nimori’s, he slumped to the ground, groaning in pain.

The last curse user, a nameless small fry, was paralyzed with fear, trembling uncontrollably.

“You talk,” Shin said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. His smile was calm, almost friendly.

“Or are you so determined to throw away your chance to live?”

“You people,” Shin Shuichi began coldly, his gaze piercing through the room, “you casually call ordinary humans monkeys, never considering them as people. And what do you base that judgment on? Whether or not they have innate techniques? If you strip it all away, isn’t it simply about strength? In my eyes, how are you any different from monkeys yourselves?”

“Beautifully said!”

The praise came from a strange, disembodied voice that suddenly echoed in the room. Shin’s sharp eyes shifted to a corner where the voice originated, but there was nothing there.

---

Moments later, something black and formless began oozing into view. It expanded until it reached the size of a large water tank, and from within emerged a crude, humanoid puppet. Its simplistic design made it seem more like an unfinished piece of woodwork than a functional creation.

Shin’s mind immediately went on high alert. A puppet technique... Someone’s controlling this from a distance. Whoever it is, they’re too cowardly to face me directly.

As Shin’s thoughts raced, the puppet’s distorted voice rang out again.

“These so-called curse users and even the cursed spirits are ridiculous. They cling to lofty ideals but have to concoct meaningless ideologies to justify their actions.”

It paused for a moment before continuing. “And what about you, Shin? What’s your take on all of this? Ordinary humans, sorcerers, and curses... When mixed together in a world like this, clashes are inevitable. Even humans can’t coexist peacefully, so what hope is there for entities with such massive differences?”

---

Shin regarded the puppet with cold disdain. He could tell it wasn’t the main body of the speaker, just a vessel to deliver a message. Destroying it would achieve nothing.

The meaning behind its words was clear, though: humanity’s negative emotions give birth to cursed spirits. Sorcerers, who originate from ordinary humans, act as a strange counterbalance. In essence, humans and curses exist in a kind of grotesque “symbiosis.”

From a purely theoretical perspective, the puppet wasn’t wrong. Humanity could never rid itself of curses unless one of two improbable solutions was enacted:

1. Eliminate cursed energy from all humans, making them incapable of producing it.

2. Turn all humans into sorcerers capable of controlling their own cursed energy, thereby preventing it from leaking and forming curses.

Both ideas were absurd upon closer inspection.

---

Shin, however, wasn’t one to concern himself with such grand concepts. He had no interest in playing savior to the world. His priorities lay with his own small circle and his own objectives.

He sneered. “A faceless coward like you isn’t much better than these scum. Curses, humans, sorcerers—it doesn’t matter to me. I’m human, and I’m a sorcerer. Naturally, I stand by my own kind. But don’t expect me to waste my time on some world-changing crusade.”

“I have one goal: to send disgusting creatures like you straight to hell. No grand excuses. If you’ve taken lives, be ready to lose your own. That’s all there is to it.”

---

Before the puppet could respond, a staggering surge of cursed energy interrupted the moment. Nimori Riku, bloodied and battered, staggered to his feet. A black spike formed in his hand, his hatred and fury pushing him forward.

The strike never landed.

In an instant, blood sprayed across the room as Nimori’s head was severed cleanly from his shoulders. His body crumpled to the floor.

The black mass surrounding the puppet began to writhe.

---

“Domain Expansion: Void Dream Realm.”

The world around Shin shifted in an instant. The room, the corpses, the mourning Larue—everything vanished, replaced by an endless darkness. The only source of light came from Shin himself.

This isn’t just a puppet—it’s a cursed spirit. A special-grade one at that.

Shin’s mind raced. The creature had concealed its presence so thoroughly that even he hadn’t noticed it initially. Now its domain had enveloped him entirely.

[Time Stop]

The overwhelming blackness shattered like glass. Reality returned to the room. The puppet, now half-submerged in a pool of frozen darkness, writhed helplessly.

Shin didn’t hesitate. He slashed twice, reducing the puppet to splinters.

From the shattered remains emerged a bizarre, quadrupedal creature, its grotesque body “squeezed” out of the black pool. It barely had time to register its surroundings before Shin’s blade pinned it to the ground.

The cursed blades Dojigiri and Onikiri appeared in his hands. Without the aid of a technique, Shin’s sheer speed turned his movements into a blur. The creature let out a final, pitiful cry before his swords tore it apart.

Shin’s frown deepened. “Too weak…”

Something felt off. The cursed spirit, despite its elaborate entrance, lacked the strength of a true special-grade. It must have been a decoy. A search of the area revealed nothing—whoever had orchestrated this had escaped.

---

In a dimly lit estate far away, a scarred man opened his eyes. A four-legged, long-nosed cursed spirit emerged from the shadows behind him, carrying the gravely injured Larue.

“The test was... enlightening,” the man murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s stronger than anticipated. We’ll have to adjust the plan accordingly.”