Chapter 166: Life and Death
“No! Don’t!!!”
A man in an impeccably dressed suit stared in terror at the sharpened claws that were drawing closer to him, gleaming ominously under the moonlight.
Everything seemed to slow down before his eyes. His pupils reflected the grotesque appearance of the Cursed Spirit, and even its drooling mouth could be seen clearly.
The final moments before death felt impossibly long. The adrenaline triggered a sense of torture, amplifying his senses to an excruciating clarity.
Until an invisible slash cut through the air with incredible speed. The Cursed Spirit’s right hand was severed at the root, spraying dark purple blood.
A dazzling figure swiftly approached, and a fist imbued with Curse Energy came up from below, striking the unsuspecting chest of the Cursed Spirit with force.
The sudden explosion of Curse Energy created an orb-sized hole through its heart.
“Are you alright? Can you still move?”
Yukinoshita Yukino shook off the purple blood sticking to her hand and turned to ask the petrified man still standing on the ground.
“I’m… I’m fine!”
The man snapped back to reality, scrambling to his feet, but his weak legs gave out again, sending him back to the ground.
He awkwardly chuckled, “I’m fine, just a bit wobbly… I’ll get better soon!”
As if fearing that the fierce young girl would leave him behind, the suited man struggled to stand, trying to regain his composure by clenching his legs.
“Don’t worry. Once you recover, head back the way we came, towards the main entrance of Kabukicho. All the monsters nearby have been dealt with and the area is safe. There are many survivors there now.”
With that, Yukinoshita Yukino hurried forward as Hachiman Hikigaya finally arrived.
Looking at the bewildered man, he panted after her.
They had been searching along the streets, leaving no building unscanned, purging many Cursed Spirits and rescuing numerous survivors. But Yukinoshita Yukino was relentless—immediately moving on to the next target each time.
Hachiman understood the urgency; more innocent citizens could be saved if they acted faster.
However, he wasn’t Yukinoshita Yukino. He lacked that monstrous endurance!
Despite daily exercise, combat drained far more energy than mere running. Exhaustion began to set in due to several battles.
“Yukinoshita!” called out a dispirited youth following her black-haired silhouette.
“What’s wrong?”
Yukinoshita Yukino stopped, looking back at the panting Hachiman, realizing his energy might not be enough for continued combat.
Her frown conveyed distress and indecision.
The best option would be a ten-minute break to resume exorcisms afterwards, but countless lives could be lost in those ten minutes.
If she paused here to let Hachiman rest and search alone… If he encountered a Cursed Spirit, wouldn’t that put him in danger?
Seeming to comprehend Yukinoshita Yukino’s dilemma, Hachiman proactively suggested, “Go ahead, I’ll catch up slowly.”
“…Got it, be cautious,” Yukinoshita Yukino nodded, turning and departing.
Watching her disappear into another building, Hachiman flopped onto some steps as though exhaling his fatigue visibly.
A damp sensation tingled beneath him; he glanced down to see blood-soaked steps, soaking his shorts slightly.
Unbothered, he slid sideways and found a drier spot to rest.
The heavy air still reeked of blood, but he had acclimated to their grim surroundings.
He had seen many corpses; human or Cursed. Emotions towards death had dulled with exposure.
No longer did he mourn the dead; pushed on by a race against time to save as many survivors as possible.
“Adaptation… truly remarkable.” Hachiman wore a pained smile self-deprecatingly.
Suddenly, his expression froze, a wave of anxiety surging.
Why do I feel so accustomed to such things?
In his mind replayed the first corpse he saw—half a skull removed, its repulsive appearance vivid.
Yet, unlike before, he no longer felt repulsed by a gruesome visage.
Had he grown cold? Or did the deceased mean nothing to him because of their anonymity? Or had he psychologically come to terms with the harsh realities of Jujutsu?
What if it were Komachi…
Subconsciously visualizing his sister in place of the mutilated man, his mind flashed with images of Komachi’s demise.
Hachiman pressed a hand over his mouth, nausea resurging.
“Are you alright? What happened?”
After thoroughly clearing the building and confirming no humans remained inside, Yukinoshisha returned to the street.
She spotted Hachiman sitting on the curb, his face contorted oddly.
“No, nothing,” he replied after a moment, shaking his head. “I’m rested now. Let’s keep going.”
Expressionless, Hachiman stood, recomposing himself mentally. Relaxed facial tension aligned naturally with his emotion.
Grief and anger flowed naturally across his features.
No longer forcing himself to ignore or adapt to hellish scenes; no more maintaining a façade of calm. Instead, confronting and accepting tragedy, bearing these burdens.
Respecting life and death.
Only thus could one avoid losing themselves amid battle and slaughter.
…
After school, then become Jujutsu Sorcerer.
