18. Challenging the Senior Leadership
Amid a screen filled with countless question marks from the barrage of comments, the screen suddenly went dark, replaced by complete silence and darkness.
Within the darkness, a shadow slowly materialized—
An embryo.
It rapidly grew, transforming from a tiny embryo to a newborn baby crying out, then into a flourishing youth, and finally into a weary white-collar worker—all within seconds.
The pure smile on his face gradually matured, but was soon shrouded by a gloomy, oppressive mist.
He resented the girl who looked down on him; he envied his young, successful boss; he cursed his parents who could not provide support for his life.
Worldly, ferocious, and violent emotions enveloped him, rendering him neither human nor ghost.
He picked up a knife, aimed it at the boss holding the girl in his arms, and grinned menacingly...
Suddenly—
Two enormous palms appeared beside him, pressing together with a crisp clap. The terrified scream he let out instantly vanished.
The perspective shifted upward.
The owner of these giant hands was a real being.
He rotated his palms, crushing the human within them at will, chuckling softly: “Humans are such creatures—sometimes interesting, sometimes utterly dull.”
He released his grip, and the lifeless human body fell into the darkness below.
“Unlike other cursed spirits—
I was born from the curses humans cast upon each other. I am the embodiment of extreme evil, the very essence of ‘curse’ itself. And I believe that human nature is inherently wicked.”
“The negative emotions emitted by humans differ subtly. Jealousy tastes bitter, greed tastes sweet, weakness tastes sour...”
Humans possess desire and commit evil, yet become weak and wavering halfway through.
Being good is never pure;
Being evil is never absolute.
Thus, human emotions intertwine, blending sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy into strange, disparate flavors.
But for a real being like me, born as a cursed spirit, these tangled emotions are the source of my power.
Is it delicious to me?
No.
Therefore, I despise humans.
In the next moment, a chessboard appeared in the void, covered entirely with... humans turned into “pieces.”
A blue-haired boy with heterochromatic eyes lay by the edge of the board, his blue hair curling whimsically as he smiled with interest.
[...]
[Though this is the underworld, this scene with the real being is quite captivating.]
He said, “I hate humans. But watching them struggle miserably in the collapse I’ve created brings me joy.”
The real being, playing the controller of the chessboard, casually toyed with the fragile humans.
They were his toys, he thought.
Suddenly, the blue-haired boy reached out, scattering the chess pieces across the board. After the sound of a drum, the space plunged back into darkness.
The real being’s excited laughter echoed:
“But I discovered an exception—
There exists in this world a pure form of extreme evil!”
No fear, no remorse, no weakness... only the utmost and pure self, desire, and unwavering resolve.
So pure.
He marveled.
In the world of the real being, a soul appeared, clear and beautiful, like glass glazed by sunlight, shining brilliantly amid the murky human masses...
He was drawn to it, like a kitten instinctively chasing a flicker of light.
The real being longed to be close to him.
He wanted to rest on his lap, to be embraced, to be enveloped by a pure curse—like returning to the warmth of being “nurtured.”
Maybe this was a fledgling complex?
He thought...
To be that person’s child!
As for the cursed spirit beside them—
Though somewhat superfluous... he carried the same lingering curse residue as that person.
So the real being decided to love them both.
With a mind full of stereotypes, the real being concluded: the human he was close to was male, so he must be the father; the cursed spirit had long hair, so she must be the mother!
Though the mother was a bit tall, it didn’t matter.
The real being convinced himself.
Now there was a strong father, a beautiful mother, and a well-behaved him—yes, what a perfect model family.
[...]
[...?]
---
[Real being, you...]
[...A screen full of question marks still can’t describe what I’m feeling.]
[Hesitant to speak... how to put this? You know, I rarely run out of words, but your mental state—hard to judge.]
[And the stereotypes, insane.]
[Alright, let’s congratulate Muzan! He's just gained a big son who isn’t even a month old yet (cursed spirits are supposedly asexual), promoted to hero mother.]
[Hero mother, smiling…]
[Applause.JPG]
[The scary part is the production team managed to straighten out the “real being recognizing father” plot with just these few minutes of interlude animation, absurd yet somewhat logical (?)]
[The real being means that Yuki is fearless and unwavering; all his actions and goals satisfy only himself and his desires.]
[Probably.]
[Maybe a bit like catnip—Yuki is sealed and shielded, but the real being can directly perceive souls!]
[Haha! No wonder he’s so obsessed.]
The perspective returned to reality.
“—”
A voice pierced through flesh.
It was the mother striking.
The real being saw her towering over him, eyes filled with disgust and displeasure. Her spiked whip tore through his body.
Yet he was not angry.
Because the father liked the mother, and the real being wouldn’t blame this bad-tempered, tall woman who was beautiful but lacked anything else.
He was very tolerant.
“...”
Muzan was disgusted by the cursed spirit’s gaze, and the spirit dared to call him by that disgusting name!
As Muzan wanted to gouge the cursed spirit’s eyes out, the interfering Six Eyes cursed energy appeared again, locking onto Muzan’s direction, emitting a sharp “Huh.”
“Boom—”
A collision.
Centered on Muzan, all sorcerers within a hundred meters were affected by the cursed energy wave—some staggered as if struck hard, others collapsed instantly.
Taking advantage of this, the real being transformed into a worm and burrowed into the earth, opening his mouth at the end to say affectionately before leaving: “Father, mother, goodbye!”
Then he vanished.
Yuki Ieiri: “...Pffft.”
Still couldn’t hold it in.
Muzan, already furious with no outlet for his anger, couldn’t suppress it any longer. His cold, heavy gaze landed on the blond boy.
He reached out; the fingertips of the special-grade cursed spirit were icy and slimy, sliding across the boy’s lower eyelid upwards, pressing his eyelashes askew.
“Earlier, I failed to gouge out his eyes. How about you compensate me with a pair?” the cursed spirit said maliciously.
His sharp black nails pressed down hard, piercing the human’s eyelid. Bright red blood welled from the wound, vivid and striking.
The human was unflustered. He smiled:
—“Sure.”
—“Muzan can do anything to me.”
“...”
Muzan expressionless, stared.
Seeing no response, the blond boy tilted his head. If he didn’t move, the eye wound would heal—no, it already had.
“Muzan...”
He began to speak, then everything went black.
When the blond boy woke again, he found himself lying on the ground. Looking down, he noticed a piece of fabric missing from his chest, revealing pale skin.
Hmm, heart was pulled out again, right?
The culprit was nowhere to be found.
[Ran away again.]
[Muzan, are you a runaway sweetheart?!]
[No, a runaway mommy!]
[...Can’t breathe from laughing.]
Muzan was like a moody cat.
Thinking this, the blond boy propped himself up on his arms, brushed off the dust, and soon heard heavy footsteps.
Looking up—
It was the guards.
Gojo Masanobu had been knocked unconscious by the aftershock of the Six Eyes’ cursed energy on his way to the Elders’ Council.
---
He had seen the blue-haired cursed spirit running toward the blond boy before losing consciousness!
He opened his mouth: “That blue-haired one...”
“Buzz—”
The phone that had been flung aside vibrated, displaying the caller ID:
[Teacher Gojo].
“...”
Gojo Masanobu wanted to say something but stopped upon seeing the caller ID, gesturing for Yuki Ieiri to answer quickly.
Yuki picked up the phone, noting the screen was evenly cracked.
Perfect timing for a new one today.
“Hello, teacher?”
Gojo Satoru’s voice was clear: “The old folks have called me hundreds of times but can’t say a word clearly. What happened at the Gojo residence?”
In recent days, Gojo Satoru had been tirelessly tracking the “thief.”
He didn’t rush to attack because he wanted to uproot and eradicate the problem completely.
Investigation was necessary.
Gojo trusted no one, not even the Gojo family, personally handling everything while ensuring the safety of his three students.
—It was a difficult mission for Itadori and the others, still unfinished.
Gojo had barely slept.
But results were remarkable.
The more he investigated, the more details about the habitual thief surfaced:
1. Those whose identities were replaced had a seam on their heads;
2. They could wield the replaced person’s cursed technique.
He could have tracked them via phone location—
But the signal from the number Yuki provided was untraceable, a deliberate anti-surveillance measure, said the hacker Gojo hired.
Gojo expected this.
He immediately switched methods.
Then, through nationwide surveillance, he spotted “a young man with black hair wearing a monk’s robe” outside a hotel in the Tama area.
He searched the vicinity but found nothing.
Gojo decided to proceed as planned—
To provoke a crisis within the Directorate, incite internal strife, and have the hacker monitor their phones.
In fact, he had already done this. After two sleepless nights, Gojo Satoru, smiling faintly, stormed into the Directorate carrying two unconscious cursed spirits.
The white-haired teacher answered students’ calls while tossing the defeated cursed spirits like garbage toward the stunned higher-ups.
Documents fell from the long table.
They were startled; one tried to maintain authority: “Gojo, you barged in suddenly—”
“Are those... cursed spirits?” someone recognized.
“Gojo, what are you doing?!”
Gojo Satoru smiled brightly: “Don’t recognize? Didn’t you post bounties on the dark web? Lots of reckless cursed spirits took the job.”
The elder at the head of the table twitched his eyelid: “Gojo, you must present evidence. You’re a special-grade sorcerer with a high status; you can’t just talk nonsense...”
“Evidence?”
Gojo scoffed: “You think I don’t know how?”
A sharp light flashed in the elder’s eyes.
Gojo didn’t hang up. Slowly, he repeated what was said on the other end:
“Oh, a special-grade cursed spirit broke into the Gojo family, tried to kill my students, causing multiple guard casualties, but escaped.”
“...”
The higher-ups widened their eyes: “...?”
?!
Is this in Japanese?
A cursed spirit invaded the Gojo family?!
None of the higher-ups could believe it.
Gojo chuckled lightly, murderous intent thick:
“They chased me all the way home? Audacity beyond belief! Or... posting bounties on students was a cover—
The real target was the Gojo family?”
Higher-ups: “?!”
This heavy accusation...
We didn’t do that, don’t speak nonsense!