𝑴𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 (𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝒙 𝑶𝑪)

1.1 Silent Shadows

The air was heavy with ash and smoke as the sun slowly set behind the distant mountains, casting a reddish glow over the small, ruined village. The buildings, once made of wood and stone, were now just charred skeletons, their blackened frames creaking under the breath of the breeze. Everywhere you looked, there were signs of destruction: collapsed roofs, broken beams, and flames still licking the debris, finishing the work of the calamity that had befallen this place.

Rats, drawn by the stench of death, scurried between the corpses strewn across the ground, their tiny paws clicking against the stones as they burrowed into the gaping maws of destroyed houses. They fought fiercely over scraps of flesh, their eyes gleaming with hunger and frenzy. The bodies—those of men, women, and even children—were scattered carelessly, like discarded dolls. Some seemed to have been cut down mid-run, others clung to each other, as if seeking illusory protection from the horror that had struck them.

In the midst of this carnage, assistants from Tokyo Jujutsu High were bustling about, trying to impose a semblance of order on the surrounding chaos. Dressed in white suits, they were putting up bright yellow tapes around the most heavily affected areas, the banners fluttering weakly in the ash-laden breeze. They spoke in hushed tones, their murmurs lost in the crackle of still-burning flames, and tried not to look at the bodies at their feet for too long. A few wore masks, though the air was already so saturated with an acrid smell that nothing seemed to filter it.

One of the assistants, hands trembling, adjusted a tape around a charred tree, casting nervous glances over his shoulder as if he feared something would emerge from the shadows at any moment. A woman beside him looked up, her face smeared with soot and fatigue. "Hurry up," she muttered, her voice hoarse. "We don't have all the time in the world."

And yet, at the center of this chaos, a figure stood out, moving with a disconcerting nonchalance. Satoru Gojo walked slowly among the ruins, his hands tucked into the pockets of his exorcist uniform, his signature black blindfold hiding his bright eyes from all. His stride was light, almost carefree, strangely contrasting with the surrounding horror. With each step, he seemed to float slightly above the ground, as if he were above all this misery.

Gojo paused for a moment, raising his head to feel the breeze on his face, a faint smile playing on his lips. To him, this ruined village was just another spectacle among many in his life as an exorcist, another reminder of the fragility of human life in the face of the dark forces lurking in the shadows. His expression remained indifferent, almost amused, as if he were at the center of a joke only he could understand.

A few steps behind him, Ijichi Kiyotaka moved cautiously, casting anxious glances around. His hands shook slightly, holding a tablet filled with notes and reports. Every sudden noise made him jump, and his eyes seemed unable to fix on a specific point, desperately searching for a place to settle that wasn't cluttered with destruction and death. His voice was tense, a hint of panic piercing his usually formal tone.

"Gojo-san," he began, trying to catch the sorcerer's attention, "we have confirmed that there was a massive attack here. Traces of cursed energy are everywhere. We believe it was the work of a special-grade curse, but... we have yet to identify which one. The villagers... all the villagers were killed."

Gojo kept walking, indifferent, as if Ijichi's words slid over him without leaving a mark. He turned his head slightly, a wry smile stretching his lips. "A special-grade curse, huh?" he murmured, almost to himself. "Is that all you've got, Ijichi? You think it was a special-grade curse?"

Ijichi swallowed, nervously wiping the sweat beading on his forehead. "Yes, Gojo-san. The signs are clear. But we don't know how it manifested here. There aren't any significant sources of cursed energy in this region..."