Demon King.Fallen Angel.King of Curses.
In the original records of Jujutsu Kaisen, Ryomen Sukuna was known by countless titles. To sorcerers, his name alone inspired fear.
Part of that fear came from his overwhelming power—a calamity that had once swept through the entire world of sorcery a thousand years ago.
But there was another reason.
"Ga—"
Inside the room, something twisted into existence.
A curse was born out of thin air.
It was formed by Mizunotsuki Seiren, combining his own cursed energy with the negative emotions seeping from the surrounding neighborhood—fatigue, resentment, anxiety, dissatisfaction.
To ordinary people, such emotions were abstract.
To Seiren, they were tangible.
With Sukuna's template integrated, emotions that should have been invisible naturally condensed into cursed forms before his eyes.
The newly born curse floated unsteadily.
Seiren observed it with mild interest.
This curse was not merely a creation—it functioned as an extension of his senses.
Through it, Seiren could observe the world from another perspective. Even if he was far away, he could perceive what happened in its vicinity.
In other words, it served as an eye.
The reason was simple: the curse carried Seiren's own cursed energy.
As for its strength—
Grade 2.
In the curse classification system, this already placed it in the dangerous category.
Lower-grade curses could be dealt with under special circumstances.Grade 2 curses, however, posed a lethal threat without targeted countermeasures.Grade 1 and above exceeded the limits of conventional responses entirely.
Of course, such classifications only mattered if cursed energy could be interacted with at all.
For ordinary people, even the most extreme weapons would fail to affect a curse directly.
Using nothing but ambient negative emotions and his own power to create a Grade 2 curse was already more than sufficient.
Seiren flicked his fingers.
The curse collapsed inward and was sealed into a discarded cardboard box in the corner of the room.
"It's enough," he said calmly.
Keeping it around would only attract unnecessary attention.
He condensed cursed energy in his palm.
The flow was smooth.
Sukuna's mastery—honed over countless years—allowed Seiren to control his power with precision. He no longer felt the instability of a novice.
He now possessed the capital to act.
Which meant—
The opening stage required carefully chosen actors.
The Next Morning
Seiren woke early.
With the Curse King's physique and template, sleep had become optional rather than necessary.
Morning light filtered through the window.
Despite possessing power far beyond ordinary humans, Seiren still prepared for school.
The greatest concealment lay in plain sight.
If one wished to manipulate the world from behind the scenes, hiding in shadows was inferior to blending into the crowd.
Abnormality bred suspicion.
And this world contained individuals who specialized in noticing such things.
Detectives.Observers.People whose presence coincided unnervingly with incidents.
Until he had the strength to erase consequences entirely, Seiren had no intention of giving them leverage.
The system had already clarified something important.
In this daily-life world, not everyone could be deceived into producing large amounts of system points.
Those with greater "narrative weight"—protagonists and key supporting characters—were worth far more.
Which also meant—
They carried something like luck.
That fact alone increased the risk of failure.
Spiritual revival could not occur without bloodshed.And wherever incidents occurred, those observers would gather.
Caution was not fear.
It was survival.
Seiren boarded the train.
His refined appearance immediately drew glances from nearby students. Quiet whispers spread among those commuting to school.
He noticed—but did not react.
Attention, when controlled, was a useful tool.
He offered a brief, polite nod when eyes met his.
Nothing more.
Among the passengers, Seiren's gaze paused briefly on a girl standing with her friends.
She appeared completely ordinary.
And yet—
Interesting.
In the original narrative, she possessed an extraordinary perception.
Here, that potential lay dormant.
Seiren withdrew his gaze.
Awakening things prematurely carried risks.
Timing mattered.
The train continued forward, carrying students toward their ordinary routines.
None of them realized—
That beneath the surface of daily life, something unseen had already begun to stir.
Quietly.
Patiently.
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