The warehouse loomed before me, a hulking mass of corrugated metal and shadows.
I approached with measured steps, my senses on high alert. The air felt thick, heavy with something unseen. Cursed energy. It clung to everything like an oily film, making my skin crawl.
Rusted hinges groaned as I eased the door open. Darkness yawned, inviting and threatening all at once. I slipped inside, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom.
Abandoned crates and machinery littered the floor, creating a maze of potential hiding spots. Dust motes danced in weak shafts of light filtering through grimy windows. The cursed energy was stronger here, a low-level hum that set my teeth on edge.
I moved deeper into the warehouse, each footstep echoing in the cavernous space. Something skittered in the shadows. A rat? Or something far worse?
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I was being watched.
I spun, scanning the rafters, the gaps between crates. Nothing. But the feeling persisted, an itch between my shoulder blades I couldn't scratch.
A flicker of movement. I whirled, arms raised.
It burst from the shadows – a mass of writhing tentacles. A cursed spirit, and an ugly one at that.
I dodged its first lunge, rolling beneath a rusted conveyor belt. My hand closed around a discarded pipe. Not ideal, but it would do.
The spirit shrieked, a sound like nails on chalkboard. It lashed out with barbed tentacles. I batted them away. The spirit pressed its attack, growing more frenzied with each failed strike. I danced around it, letting my instincts guide me. My cursed energy surged, eager to be unleashed.
"Charge," I muttered, imbuing the pipe with explosive potential.
I feinted left, then struck. The charged pipe connected with a meaty thwack. The spirit howled as cursed energy detonated on impact, blowing a chunk of its mass to bits.
It reeled back, giving me the opening I needed. I pushed off the ground, propelling myself forward with a burst of accelerated momentum.
"Amplify!"
My fist connected, the impact multiplied tenfold by my technique. The spirit disintegrated, leaving nothing but wisps of foul-smelling smoke.
That had been... almost too easy. The unease I'd felt earlier intensified. This spirit wasn't nearly strong enough to produce the level of cursed energy I sensed.
Something else was here. Something far more dangerous.
I reached out with my senses, trying to pinpoint the source. The cursed energy saturating the air made it difficult, like trying to hear a whisper in a thunderstorm.
But there – a faint trail, leading away from the warehouse. I followed it out into the night, my guard still up.
The urban landscape shifted as I moved, towering skyscrapers giving way to older, more dilapidated structures. Neon signs buzzed and flickered, painting the cracked sidewalks in lurid colors.
The trail led me to a building that had clearly seen better days. Faded paint spelled out "Lucky Star Casino" above boarded-up windows.
I hesitated at the entrance, that prickling sensation of being watched stronger than ever. Whatever was in there, it knew I was coming.
I pushed the door open, stepping into the musty darkness beyond.
The once-glittering palace of vice now stood as a monument to decay. Faded carpets, peeling wallpaper, broken slot machines – remnants of a bygone era of excess. Moonlight filtered through cracked skylights, casting eerie shadows across the gaming floor.
My footsteps echoed in the emptiness as I moved deeper into the casino's heart. Dust motes danced in the pale beams of light, swirling with each careful step. I ran my fingers along a roulette table, leaving trails in the thick layer of grime.
Something caught my eye – an unopened pack of playing cards, somehow untouched by time and neglect. I snatched it up, feeling the familiar weight in my palm. Old habits die hard, I guess.
That's when I felt it. A shift in the air, a prickling at the back of my neck. We weren't alone.
They materialized from the shadows – nine cursed spirits, twisted mockeries of human form. One, a hulking brute with arms like tree trunks. Another, spindly and insectoid, clicking pincers where its mouth should be. A third writhed and shifted, unable to settle on a single shape.
I grinned, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline flood my system. "Gentlemen," I drawled, shuffling the deck with practiced ease. "Care to play a hand?"
They answered with inhuman shrieks, lunging forward en masse.
I was ready.
The first spirit – a bloated, gelatinous thing – never stood a chance. A flick of my wrist sent three cards spinning through the air, each one glowing with charged cursed energy. They sliced clean through its amorphous body, reducing it to sizzling puddles on the floor.
The insectoid creature scuttled forward, mandibles snapping. I vaulted over a nearby blackjack table, using it as a springboard to launch myself into the air. Time seemed to slow as I hung there, suspended for a heartbeat. Then I rained down a hail of explosive cards, each one detonating on impact. The spirit's chitinous shell cracked and splintered under the barrage.
Landing in a crouch, I spun to face the shape-shifter. It had settled on a nightmarish amalgamation of features – fur, scales, tentacles, all writhing together. I charged my cards with kinetic energy, feeling the power thrum through my fingers. When I released them, they shot forward like bullets from a gun. The spirit tried to dodge, its form twisting and contorting, but my aim was true. The cards punched clean through, leaving smoking holes in their wake.
Three down, six to go. And I hadn't even broken a sweat.
The remaining spirits circled warily, perhaps realizing they'd underestimated their prey. Good. Let them be afraid.
I sensed... something. A prickle of awareness, a weight of observation that didn't belong to the cursed spirits before me. Someone else was watching this fight. Interesting.
But I couldn't afford to let my focus waver. Not with six very angry, very deadly opponents still in play.
The hulking brute charged, its footsteps shaking the floor. I waited until the last possible second before sidestepping, letting its momentum carry it past me. As it stumbled, I slapped an ace of spades onto its back, infusing it with explosive energy. The resulting blast sent chunks of spirit-flesh flying in all directions.
Two more spirits rushed me from opposite sides – one trailing wisps of shadow, the other crackling with ethereal lightning. I dropped low, letting them crash into each other above me. In the split second of their confusion, I unleashed a rapid-fire barrage of cards. The spirits convulsed, their forms destabilizing under the onslaught of conflicting energies.
I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction as they dissipated into nothingness. Then I turned to face the final three.
These spirits were cannier, more cautious. They spread out, trying to flank me. Smart. But not smart enough.
I fanned out a handful of cards, imbuing each with a different property – some explosive, some razor-sharp. With a flourish, I sent them spiraling outward in a deadly arc.
The spirits tried to dodge, but there was nowhere to run. My cards found their marks with unerring precision. One spirit was bisected cleanly, another blown apart by concentrated blasts. The last managed to deflect a few attacks before a card slipped past its guard, lodging in what passed for its throat. It clawed frantically at the projectile before collapsing.
Silence fell over the casino once more. I took a deep breath, letting the rush of combat fade. My senses, still hyperaware from the fight, picked up on that hidden presence again. Whoever was watching hadn't left.
I made a show of surveying the destruction around me, all while pinpointing the source of that energy. There – behind a bank of slot machines, cloaked in shadow.
Well, if our mystery guest wanted to play coy, who was I to spoil their fun? I stretched languidly, as if working out post-battle kinks. "Not a bad workout," I called out to the seemingly empty room. "Though I was hoping for more of a challenge."
I bent to retrieve a few stray cards, using the motion to palm a handful of fresh ones. In one fluid movement, I spun and launched them towards the hidden watcher.
The cards streaked through the air, glowing with destructive potential. But mere feet from their target, they slowed. It was as if they'd hit an invisible wall of molasses. I watched, fascinated, as they gradually lost momentum before stopping altogether.
"Impressive. You just took down ten Grade 1 cursed spirits like it was nothing."
I saw him.
The man with the ridiculous blindfold stood there, radiating smugness like a goddamn lighthouse. My cards were still in the air, suspended mid-throw by some unseen force. His lips curved into a smile that screamed 'I know something you don't.'
"Impressive trick," he drawled, voice smooth as silk and twice as slippery. "But I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that to catch me off guard."
My mind raced, cataloging every detail. Tall, lean, with a shock of white hair that defied gravity. The blindfold should've made him look ridiculous, but somehow it just added to his aura of effortless superiority.
"Who the hell are you?"
He chuckled. "Satoru Gojo, at your service. Jujutsu sorcerer extraordinaire and, as of now, your new best friend."
My eyes narrowed. "Stalking isn't a great way to make friends."
Gojo laughed. "Fair point. Then allow me to offer you a job."
"Not interested," I replied, turning to leave.
In a blink, Gojo appeared in front of me. "Come on, don't be hasty. You haven't even heard my offer yet."
"How did you-"
"Stop your cards? Teleport? It's all part of my cursed technique," Gojo explained, tapping his blindfold. "Limitless. I can manipulate space itself. That barrier you hit? It slows down anything that approaches me to a crawl. Pretty neat, huh?"
Before I could respond, the world blurred around us. When my vision cleared, we stood atop a skyscraper overlooking the city. I stumbled, disoriented by the sudden change.
Gojo leaned against the railing, casual as if we were just out for a stroll. "So, about that job offer. How'd you like to become a jujutsu sorcerer?"
I fought down a wave of nausea. "Start explaining. Now."
He turned, that infuriating smile still in place. "Jujutsu sorcerers. We're the thin line between humanity and the cursed spirits that would devour them. We harness our innate cursed energy to perform techniques beyond normal human comprehension."
"Like teleporting?" I asked, gesturing to our surroundings.
"Child's play," Gojo waved dismissively. "You've only scratched the surface of what you're capable of. Those card tricks? They're fueled by your cursed energy. With proper training, you could become a force to be reckoned with."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what's in it for you?"
"The greater good, of course!" he exclaimed. "Saving lives, protecting the innocent—"
"That doesn't move me."
Gojo paused, studying me. His demeanor shifted, becoming more calculating. "No, I suppose it wouldn't. Very well, let's talk practicalities. You grew up in the Sakura Home for Children, correct?"
I stiffened. "How do you—"
"I make it my business to know things," he said, waving away my question. "That orphanage is struggling, barely keeping its doors open. What if I told you jujutsu sorcerers are paid handsomely for their services? Enough to ensure places like Sakura Home never have to worry about funding again?"
My breath caught. Images of Sister Maria's tired face, of kids going to bed hungry, flashed through my mind. But trusting this man...
"Your abilities are extraordinary, Akuma," Gojo continued, his voice earnest now. "With proper guidance, you could reshape the very fabric of reality. Think of the doors that would open, the power you'd wield. All I'm asking is that you consider it."
I stayed silent, weighing my options. On one hand, the idea of joining some secret organization of sorcerers seemed insane. I'd always worked alone, relying only on myself. Trusting others had only ever led to pain and betrayal.
But on the other hand... the power Gojo was offering was tempting. And the money...
"I'll think about it," I said finally, my voice guarded.
Gojo nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Fair enough. Take your time." He pulled out a business card, holding it out to me. "When you're ready to talk more, give me a call."
I took the card, studying the simple design. Just a name and a phone number.
"Well, it's been fun," Gojo said cheerfully. "But duty calls. See you around, Akuma."
Before I could respond, he vanished, leaving me alone on the rooftop.