A/N: yeah... Some of y'all might be disappointed by this chapter, before you get upset let me explain, kaito... Is just too weak, you saw what happened in the previous chapter.. That was just 2 finger sukuna, now imagine a 15 fingers one in shibuya 💀 at this rate sukuna will dog walk kaito, seriously, and I think there was a comment about predator being too nerfed, it wasn't nerfed, kaito was just scared to use it's full potential because of the higher up's, ( there is another A/N down there that explains the restrictions of predator )
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Three days. That's what Gojo-sensei said they'd given me.
"Three days, Kaito!" he'd chirped, leaning against my doorway like a particularly troublesome ghost. "Then the fun police from the Kamo clan and the tech division want to have a little chat with you! A full 'assessment'! They're so excited!"
I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. My side still ached where Sukuna's idea of a hello had nearly turned me into a two-piece set. "An 'assessment'. Right. That's what they're calling dissecting me to see what makes me tick these days?"
"Probably! Maybe they'll use those little picks! And the tiny saws! It'll be very educational!" His grin was sharp enough to cut glass. "For them, anyway. For you, less so."
He left. The silence he left behind was louder than his nonsense.
[Host's physiological stress indicators are elevated,] Great Sage noted, unhelpfully. [Logical assessment: The probability of host surviving a 'full assessment' by the Jujutsu higher-ups is approximately 2.3%. The probability of host surviving if host ceases to adhere to self-imposed, illogical restrictions is 97.8%. The path forward is clear.]
"The 'illogical restriction' being not eating people," I mumbled.
[Among others. The restriction against fully integrating subdued curses is also inefficient. The arbitrary 'chewing' metaphor is particularly wasteful.]
I sighed. It was hard to argue with a supercomputer living in your skull, especially when it was right.
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Training with Maki was usually the one thing that cut through the noise. Not today.
We were in a remote training ground, the one they used for live curse drills. The air smelled of pine and damp earth. Maki came at me with her usual brutal grace, her staff a silver blur. I blocked, parried, dodged, but my heart wasn't in it. My mind was three days ahead, in a sterile room with tiny saws.
Her staff smacked my forearm with a crack that promised a bruise. I stumbled back.
"You're fighting like you're afraid you'll break me," she stated, not even breathing hard. She planted the butt of her staff in the dirt. "Cut the shit, Ishiguro. What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Try again. You move like a haunted coatrack."
I wiped sweat from my brow. "The higher-ups. They want an 'assessment' in three days. Gojo says it's a dissection party. I'm the guest of honor."
Maki's eyes narrowed behind her glasses. A flicker of something, anger, maybe, passed through them. "So they want to kill you for being dangerous."
"Basically."
"And your response," she said, her voice flat, "is to be less dangerous? To pull your punches?" She shook her head, a look of pure disgust on her face. "You really are an idiot."
She shouldered her staff and walked away, leaving me standing there, my forearm throbbing.
The words hit me harder than her staff. You really are an idiot.
She was right. I was trying to play by rules written by people who wanted me dead. I was trying to be a 'good sorcerer' while they sharpened their scalpels.
The fear in my gut hardened into something else. Something cold and sharp. Anger. Fine.
If they wanted a monster, I'd give them a monster they couldn't put in a box.
[Emotional shift detected. Host's resolve is firming. Suggest field test of revised operational parameters.]
The training ground had a holding pen for practice curses. I walked over to it. Inside was a Grade 1 curse they'd captured, a nasty thing like a giant, multi-headed serpent made of shadows and venom. It hissed, its several mouths dripping something corrosive.
The old Kaito would have tried to exorcise it 'properly'. The new Kaito was done with 'properly'.
I opened the gate and stepped inside.
The fight wasn't long. I was faster now, my control tighter. I didn't mess around. I dodged a spray of venom, closed the distance, and drove a fist wrapped in hyper-concentrated cursed energy into the central mass between two of its heads.
THUD.
The curse stiffened, all its heads going slack. It wasn't dead, but it was stunned, subdued. The old method: I'd open my mouth, swallow, deal with the taste of despair and snake.
The new method?
I looked at the twitching curse. I didn't think about eating. I thought about acquisition. I willed it to be mine.
The air around the curse shimmered, like heat haze off asphalt. The curse's form didn't get sucked into my mouth. It dissolved from the edges inward into countless motes of shimmering, dark light. The particles flowed toward me, not into my mouth, but into my chest, vanishing as they touched me.
It was silent. Clean. Efficient. Three seconds later, the pen was empty. Not even a stain.
[Target subdued. Consumption authorized. Cursed Spirit 'Venom-Serpent' integrated. Cursed Energy reserves increased by 8%. Technique 'Paralytic Venom Synthesis' isolated and available. Biological trait 'Multi-Directional Perception' (derived from cephalic structure) integrated. Host's passive spatial awareness improved by 15%.]
A flood of information hit me. I knew how to craft a paralyzing agent from my own cursed energy. I could suddenly 'feel' the space behind me, to the sides, with a new, eerie clarity. No headache. No bad aftertaste. Just… new software installed.
I stared at my hands. "Why," I whispered to the empty air, "was I ever doing it the hard way?"
[The 'hard way' was a cognitive crutch. A metaphor your previous mindset required. You have evolved. Predator is not an act. It is a state of being.]
Right. No more chewing. Just… taking.
I spent the next hour practicing. On rocks (stored them). On a practice sword (stole its 'sharpness' concept; the blade went dull, my fingertips could now cut paper). On a weak, pathetic Grade 4 curse that looked like a depressed tumbleweed (took its 'rolling' trait for a laugh; I could now stumble with surprising aerodynamic efficiency).
It was effortless. Limitless. And terrifyingly fun.
[Restriction reminder: Consumption requires target to be subdued. Cannot consume active Domains (foundational rules are too complex for safe integration). All other data is permissible.]
"So I have to win the fight first," I mused. "Then I get the loot. Fair."
The sun was setting when I felt them. Four signatures of cursed energy, sharp and hostile, approaching the training ground from different vectors. They weren't trying to hide.
Ambush.
I didn't move from where I sat on a log. I just waited.
They emerged from the trees: three men, one woman, all in dark, non-uniform gear. They had the look of professionals, not Jujutsu High, not government. Mercenaries. The woman, who seemed to be in charge, had a nasty scar across her cheek.
"Kaito Ishiguro," she said, her voice like gravel. "Sorry, kid. The old men upstairs want you off the board. Permanently. Nothing personal."
I looked at them. Grade 1 level, each. Good. "They couldn't even wait three days for their party? Rude."
One of the men, a burly guy with knuckle-dusters glowing with cursed energy, cracked his neck. "Make it quick. I've got a game on tonight."
[Threat assessment: Four Grade 1 combatants. Host's new capabilities are optimal for this scenario. Suggested objective: Non-lethal neutralization and technique acquisition.]
"Great Sage?"
[Yes, host?]
"Let's go shopping."
The big man charged first. Predictable. His fist came at my face, wreathed in explosive cursed energy. I didn't block. I sidestepped, grabbed his extended wrist, and used his own momentum to swing him face-first into a tree. There was a solid crunch. He slumped, dazed but not out.
I placed a hand on his shoulder. Not to hurt him. To take.
[Target subdued. Consuming technique: 'Kinetic Detonation' (Grade 1).] I willed it. The knowledge of how to channel cursed energy into concussive bursts flowed into me. The man's knuckle-dusters flickered and died. He groaned, confused.
The woman snarled. "He's a technique thief! Don't let him touch you!"
A lanky man with too many teeth raised his hands to his mouth. "SCREECH!" A visible wave of distorted air, a sonic attack, ripped toward me. I threw up a basic barrier. It cracked under the strain, but it held long enough for me to rush through, my ears ringing.
I got inside his guard and drove an elbow into his solar plexus. He folded like a cheap chair, gasping. I touched his throat.
[Target subdued. Consuming trait: 'Sonic Vibration Enhancement'.] His vocal cords lost their cursed edge. Mine felt… stronger. I could probably yell really loud now. Or sing off-key with devastating power.
The third man, looking terrified, whipped out a set of cursed chains from his coat. They lashed out like living things, wrapping around my arms and torso, binding me tight. "Got him!"
I didn't struggle. I just looked at the chains, at the binding curse woven into them. I willed the curse to be mine.
The chains glowed for a second, then went inert, falling off me like dead snakes.
The man stared. "My… my chains…"
"Thanks for the donation," I said, and kicked his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard. I didn't bother taking anything else from him. He was already crying.
The leader, the scarred woman, was backing away, her hands up. "Okay! Okay! We're done! We'll go!"
"You tried to kill me," I said, walking toward her. "That's a 'you' problem. I'm having a 'me' solution."
She turned to run. I didn't chase her. I focused on the new technique I'd just acquired, Paralytic Venom Synthesis. I shaped a tiny amount of cursed energy into a needle-thin projectile, tinged with psychic venom, and flicked it at her retreating back.
It hit her between the shoulder blades. She took two more steps, then her legs locked up. She fell face-first into the dirt with a muffled yelp.
I walked over, knelt beside her. She was paralyzed, but her eyes were wide with terror. I placed a hand on her back.
[Target subdued. Consuming: 30% of target's cursed energy reserves.] I felt a surge of power flow into me, topping off my tanks. She'd be weak for a week, but she'd live.
I stood up. Four Grade 1 mercenaries. One minute. One of them missing his technique, one missing his special trait, one missing his cursed tool's power, and one missing a chunk of her energy.
I felt… fine. Better than fine. Energized.
[Mission complete. Acquired: Kinetic Detonation Technique (Grade 1), Sonic Vibration Trait, Binding Curse Immunity (situational). Cursed Energy reserves at 128%. Host's combat rating has increased. Note: All targets remain alive. A merciful, if strategically suboptimal, choice.]
"I'm a softie," I muttered, gathering the four groaning, weeping mercenaries by their collars. They were a heavy, sad bunch. I started dragging them back toward the main campus.
I found Gojo and Yaga near the main building, having what looked like a heated but quiet argument. They stopped when they saw me approaching, dragging my human baggage.
Gojo's blindfold tilted. "Kaito! You brought friends!"
I dropped the mercenaries in a heap at their feet. "A gift. From the higher-ups. They sent a welcome committee. I disinvited them."
Yaga's face was stone. He looked from the sobbing, technique-less mercenaries to me. "What did you do?"
"I accepted their generous donations," I said, holding up a hand. A faint, concussive aura shimmered around my knuckles, the Kinetic Detonation technique. Then I cleared my throat and said, very clearly and loudly, "TESTING." The word carried, sharp and amplified, making Yaga wince. The Sonic Vibration trait.
Gojo burst out laughing. He doubled over, slapping his knee. "You stole their techniques! You didn't even kill them! You just… took their toys and sent them home crying!" He wiped a tear from under his blindfold. "That's way more annoying for the old geezers! They'll have to explain why their 'deniable assets' are now useless!"
Yaga looked like he'd aged a decade. "Kaito. Do you understand what you've done? You've demonstrated you can permanently strip a sorcerer of their power. You're not just a threat to curses anymore. You're a threat to the entire power structure of Jujutsu society."
I met his gaze. "They were a threat to my entire 'being alive' structure. Seemed like a fair trade."
Later, on the roof, Maki found me. She had two sodas. She handed me one without a word. We popped them open, the hiss loud in the quiet night.
"Heard you took their toys away," she said after a long sip.
"They tried to take my life. I took their techniques." I took a drink. The soda was too sweet. "Seemed fair."
Maki looked out over the dark campus. A small, fierce smirk touched her lips. It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen all day. "Finally thinking like a sorcerer," she said. "It's about power. You have it. They're scared of it." She glanced at me. "Don't you dare apologize for it."
We drank in comfortable silence. The fear was gone. Replaced by a cold, clear certainty.
The next day, the atmosphere in the school was electric with gossip. Yuji cornered me at breakfast, his eyes wide.
"Senpai! Is it true? You can… take people's powers? That's so hardcore! And kinda scary!"
Nobara slid into the seat next to him, pointing a straw at me. "More importantly. Can you tell if a technique would look good as, say, a hair clip before you steal it? I have a list. Prioritized by seasonal color palettes."
I looked at her deadpan. "Great Sage?"
[Subject Kugisaki's request is aesthetically driven but methodologically sound. We could analyze the spectral resonance of a technique prior to full integration. The answer is: potentially.]
"Potentially," I told her.
She nodded, satisfied. "Good. I'll email you the list."
From across the room, I could feel a familiar, ancient gaze on the back of my neck. Not here. In the vessel. Sukuna's interest had shifted. It was no longer the amused contempt for a thief. It was sharper. Hungrier. The focus of a collector who's just seen a one-of-a-kind piece.
*[Final status update,] Great Sage intoned as I got ready for bed that night. [Predator: Fully Synchronized. Host is now a living technique library. Growth vector: Exponential. Upcoming scheduled event: 'Goodwill Exchange Event'. Multiple high-grade combatants confirmed. Analysis: Prime acquisition opportunities.]
It paused, then added, almost cheerfully,
[Prepare to feast, host.]
I lay in the dark, tracing the new, faint calluses on my knuckles from the Kinetic Detonation practice. The old fear was gone. The three-day deadline was a joke. Let them come.
I wasn't a problem to be assessed anymore.
I was a new set of rules. And class was about to be in session.
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Word Count: ~ 2,600
A/N: alrrr, let me list out the rules of Predator.
1. Must Defeat/Subdue First: Can only consume a target once it's been neutralized (unconscious, restrained, or no longer resisting). No instant-win "delete button" on an active, fighting opponent.
2. No Domain Consumption: Cannot eat a Domain Expansion itself (the barrier, the sure-hit rule). However, he CAN eat cursed techniques and attacks fired within a Domain, and he can analyze the Domain's rules with Great Sage to find weaknesses.
3. Everything else is fair game: Cursed techniques, cursed energy, physical objects, traits, concepts, once the target is subdued, it's all on the menu.