Chapter 138 - Exposing the Existence of Cursed Spirits, Society Descends into Chaos

Kenjaku's words had barely faded. In Tokyo's Times Square, the LED screen touted as the largest in Asia flickered once and plunged into pure black. At the same second, every connected phone, computer, and vehicle screen lost its signal entirely. Static crackled. A pallid face covered in stitches forced its way onto every screen worldwide, accompanied by a distorted laugh.

Mahito's voice, amplified by his Cursed Technique, rang out.

"Good evening, you pitiful monkeys!"

On the screen, Mahito stood on an abandoned subway platform, holding a middle-aged man who had soiled himself in terror. The man struggled frantically. Mahito casually snapped his fingers. A low-grade Cursed Spirit covered in pustules crawled out of the shadows. He grabbed its mouth and tore it in two, black blood splattering across the lens. The man let out a death-rattle scream.

Mahito shoved the writhing lump of black, rotten flesh down the man's throat. The man's throat bulged grotesquely. Bones shattered inside his body. He twisted and swelled on the ground, transforming into a hideous monster with four arms.

"See that?"

Mahito planted a foot on the monster, leaned close to the lens, his eyes filled with pure madness.

"This world has ghosts. Man-eating monsters. Demons that can chew you up, bones and all, in a dark corner."

He spread his arms wide.

"But I regret to inform you, the gods you pray to don't exist. God abandoned you filthy monkeys long ago. From today onward, your only value is to be our food!"

The screen went dark. Only a string of manic laughter echoed in its wake. The world fell silent in that moment. No one spoke. A few seconds later, the stillness detonated completely. Emergency lines were instantly overwhelmed, circuits crashing entirely. Screams erupted in the streets. People collided blindly on the roads. Car crashes, stampedes, looting, arson — within minutes, cities were consumed. The panic index skyrocketed.

Inside an abandoned bomb shelter, Kenjaku watched the Cursed Energy detector spike past the red line, his laughter steeped in rapture. This feeling was exquisite. The secret the Jujutsu World had spent a thousand years hiding, the thin veil maintaining a surface-level peace, had finally been torn to shreds by his own hands. All that negative emotion was converging on a single location. Shibuya.

Once all of Japan's panic was concentrated there, the nourishment for the new world would be sufficient. In the Jujutsu High medical ward, the atmosphere was heavy as lead. Masamichi Yaga watched the live broadcast replay on his phone, his face dark. Insanity. Expose the Jujutsu World to the entire world? This was tantamount to declaring war on all of human society!

How many terrifying Cursed Spirits would this negative emotion, festering in the shadows, instantly spawn?

"That's it?"

Toji Fushiguro crossed his arms, his expression one of pure dissatisfaction. Yaga froze.

Toji slapped his thigh forcefully and jabbed a finger at the dark screen, crying out in pained indignation: "Does this guy even understand livestreaming? No hot-blooded opening slogan, no sweat-drenched talent showcase in the middle, not even the most important Youth Declaration! This is irresponsible to the audience!"

Kokichi Muta, lying in his hospital bed, nearly coughed up a mouthful of blood. Just where were this old man's priorities?

"Shut your mouth." Shoko Ieiri rubbed her temples. "All of Japan is in chaos right now, and you're in the mood to worry about a talent showcase?"

"Chaos is great!"

Toji pumped his fist, the scar at the corner of his mouth twisting with the motion.

"Youth is about finding order within chaos, about burning your blood in the face of despair! These sewer rats have finally dared to crawl under the sun — the iron fists of this old man have been itching for ages!"

He turned toward Satoru Gojo, his eyes blazing with pure, fanatical battle-lust.

"Hey, Gojo, bring the brats. Let's give these monsters who've never tasted hardship a hot-blooded phys-ed lesson they'll remember for life!"

These ignorant monsters had no clue what true taijutsu even was. Expose the Jujutsu World to the light? Doesn't matter. The bigger the stage, the more valuable the sweat of youth. That kid Megumi's been short on real combat lately. Tonight, he'll learn what it means to explode past his limits.

If I don't beat these Special Grades until they're crying for their mamas, my name isn't Toji Fushiguro! Satoru Gojo crushed the lollipop between his teeth. He rose to his feet. His eyes pierced through his sunglasses, gazing at the night sky outside the window. Out there, a mass of Cursed Energy so immense it warped space itself was converging on the center of Tokyo.

That bastard Kenjaku. Is he really in such a hurry to make his move?

"Principal Yaga."

Satoru Gojo's voice carried not a shred of warmth.

"Notify every Jujutsu Sorcerer who can still move. Spare nothing. Lock down Tokyo."

Shibuya's core commercial district, 8:15 PM. The sky had gone dark. A massive black hemisphere descended from above. The barrier's edge scraped against the glass curtain walls of skyscrapers, erupting in sparks, before embedding itself dead into the asphalt. The entire Shibuya core commercial district, along with hundreds of thousands of civilians, was completely engulfed in absolute darkness. The Curtain had fallen.

An office worker preparing to head home saw the black curtain-wall and curiously reached out to touch it. His hand passed through without any resistance. He exhaled in relief and broke into a sprint to get out.

BANG!

His body hit an invisible wall of steel. His forehead split open, and he was hurled back violently.

"What is this thing!"

"We can't get out! Why can't we get out!"

Screams rose one after another. This Curtain's rule was brutally simple — entry only, no exit. Non-sorcerers could walk in from outside without hindrance, but once they stepped inside, they would never cross half a step back out. The crowd completely erupted. It's over. The monsters are real. Everything in that livestream just now was real. We can't get out. We're absolutely going to die here!

The brutal images from the livestream minutes earlier: fear of the unknown monsters instantly dominated everyone.

"Head for the subway stations! Get out underground!"

Tens of thousands surged toward every entrance of Shibuya Station. But as they rushed down the stairs, what awaited them was a true living hell. Densely packed transfigured humans with three heads and six arms, dripping foul mucus, had every subway exit blocked solid. They had no reason. The moment they saw a living person, they pounced and tore straight in.

Screams, chewing sounds, the crunch of shattering bones, all of it traveled up through the ventilation shafts to the surface. Shibuya had become a slaughterhouse of blood and flesh. Atop the tallest commercial building, the night wind was biting cold.

Kenjaku stood at the very edge, gazing down at the streets churning in utter chaos below, the smile on that stitched face like an artist admiring his own masterpiece. Jogo stood to his left, the small volcano atop his head venting white smoke as power surged into him continuously. He clenched his fist.

The fear of these hundreds of thousands of monkeys was the finest nourishment he could imagine. The humiliation of having his head torn off by Satoru Gojo last time, and that muscle freak's provocations, tonight, he would settle all scores.

"This feeling is simply magnificent." Jogo let out a grating laugh. "If that muscle-brained idiot called Toji Fushiguro dares show up, this old man will burn him to cinders with a single finger!"

Hanami and Dagon stood behind, greedily savoring the skyrocketing Cursed Energy. Choso had his hands in his pockets, his eyes dark and brooding. He didn't care about changing the world. He only wanted to crush the throats of Yuji Itadori and those other Jujutsu Sorcerers, to avenge his brothers.

Beside them, a swordsman with an ancient topknot and a broken blade at his hip expressionlessly wiped his sword hilt. Nearby, a bewitching demoness draped in a black haori cackled, her fingers tracing eerie runes in the empty air.

"Don't be impatient, any of you."

Kenjaku turned around, facing this terrifying lineup, a force sufficient to topple a nation.

"The prey will come knocking soon. Tonight, right here, we will bury those self-righteous fools of the Jujutsu World for good."

➤ Next: Shibuya Incident, Commence