"Teru Teru Bozu, Teru Bozu."
"If it still rains and you cry..."
A man nearly two meters tall, wearing a black leather apron, hummed the nursery rhyme "Teru Teru Bozu" with a relaxed expression.
"I'll snip your head right off."
His actions, however, were anything but gentle. He held a massive cleaver and, without hesitation, brought it down on the bloody mass beneath him.
Squelch!
The sound of flesh tearing and bone snapping echoed as a round object rolled onto the floor.
Beneath the blood-stained workbench, piles of arms, hand bones, leg bones, and other such parts had already accumulated on the ground.
Staring at his masterpiece—limbs severed, head hanging empty—the terrifying, bloody butcher licked the black blood from his blade and grimaced.
"Tch. Still lacks flavor."
The butcher's eyes were bloodshot with rage as he gritted his teeth.
"It's all because the damn Jujutsu Association keeps hunting me. The quality of my recent offerings has been terrible."
"Forget it. Conditions are rough; I'll make do with what I have."
With a fluctuation of Cursed Energy, a pristine white cloth appeared in his hand.
He carefully wrapped the mutilated corpse in the white cloth and tied it tight with rope. Soon, blood began to seep through the fabric.
A grotesque, bloody Teru Teru Bozu was roughly complete, just missing the eyes. The butcher picked up a severed limb from the floor, dabbed it in blood, and dotted two eyes onto the doll. It was the finishing touch.
The Teru Teru Bozu instantly seemed to gain a soul. Its crimson eyes rolled wildly, and its mouth tore open as if of its own accord, emitting a laugh that sounded more like a pained scream. It was truly horrifying.
"Good child."
With that, more and more eerie laughter began to echo in response from above the butcher's head.
If anyone looked up at that moment, they might have died of fright. In the center of the skylight above, countless identical bloody "Teru Teru Bozu" were neatly suspended from the ceiling.
The ropes around their necks made them look like they had been hanged. Their eyes bulged out as if about to pop, and they all laughed in unison, a sound that made one's skin crawl.
---
"A Curse User turned living people into all sorts of Teru Teru Bozu and held a personal art exhibition?"
Kenmei's voice rose a few octaves. Putting aside how such a horrific exhibition got venue approval, the fact that online pre-sale tickets sold out instantly was terrifying. Do these Japanese people really have such twisted tastes?
The strangest part was that it didn't attract the Jujutsu world's attention until the families of the visitors collectively called the police, reporting that every single friend or relative who visited had gone missing.
Before that, there were zero monitoring reports of abnormal Cursed Energy fluctuations in Tokyo.
The Association dispatched three Grade 3 Sorcerers and one Grade 2 Sorcerer to investigate.
The order was given in the afternoon; they left in the evening.
By late that night, four "Teru Teru Bozu"—made from the heads of those four unfortunate souls—were blatantly discovered hanging from the four corners of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department building.
Hanged at the four cardinal directions. Their bodies were gone; only their heads were wrapped in white cloth. The blood dripping continuously onto the office windows alerted the cleaning lady.
If this wasn't a provocation, what was?
According to the analysis of the residual Cursed Energy on the white cloth, the perpetrator was identified as the "Doll Master" Butcher, an A-list fugitive wanted by the Association for nearly twenty years.
This settled it. New grudges and old scores would be settled together. The Jujutsu Association dispatched Yomi Isayama, a powerful Grade 1 Sorcerer even among her peers, with strict orders to kill on sight.
This was why Yomi found the situation tricky. The wanted poster was twenty years old. People change drastically in a year, let alone twenty. Even his own mother wouldn't recognize him in a sea of people.
The only clue was the blood-soaked white cloth that had wrapped one of the victim's heads.
After committing such a heinous crime, the Butcher seemed to know the Association would stop at nothing to kill him, so he vanished without a trace.
Yomi couldn't find him at all.
That was the only reason she had time to drop by and visit Kenmei.
As for Kenmei's wager, Yomi had only agreed to half of it. Sending him to kill a Curse User who was already Grade 2 twenty years ago was pure suicide.
After killing the initial investigation team, the Butcher's threat level had been upgraded to Grade 1 Curse User—the same rank as Yomi Isayama.
So, as long as Kenmei could help Yomi find the culprit making the "Teru Teru Bozu," she would acknowledge him and agree to partner up.
As for killing the criminal, that was Yomi's responsibility. She was the professional combatant.
"Yomi-nee, so if I find where the culprit is, you agree to team up with me, right?"
Kenmei asked again to be sure.
"Yes. What, don't you trust me?"
Looking at the cautious Kenmei, Yomi felt both amused and annoyed. She sighed helplessly.
"I won't go back on my word."
Yomi had always struggled with tracking enemies. If Kenmei could cover that weakness, it would be a good thing.
"Great. I understand."
Kenmei smiled.
"Yomi-nee, I'm definitely going to be your teammate."
With a thought, Kenmei focused his will on a piece of equipment bound to his soul: [The Eternal Hunt], the token engraved with the phantom of a giant wolf's head.
Summon:
Flesh Hound!
A beastly roar that seemed to freeze the soul instantly reached Yomi's ears. A sense of imminent danger, like dark tendrils, brushed against her nerves.
"Is this a Shikigami?"
A behemoth standing 3 meters tall at the shoulder and about 4 meters long crawled out of Kenmei's small shadow under Yomi's incredulous gaze. It looked like a hybrid of a wolf and a reptile, with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, thick scales covering its skin, a row of spikes running down its spine, and a massive frill of flesh around the back of its head and throat.
"ROAR!!!"
Stared down by those brutal, slit pupils, Yomi instinctively reached for her blade.
"Sister, it won't hurt us."
Right in front of Yomi, Kenmei reached out and patted the Flesh Hound's snout. The beast nuzzled his palm affectionately.
It looked just like a docile, giant cat.
The Flesh Hound had another name: "Khorne's Blood Hunter." Once they locked onto a target, there was nowhere to hide.
Kenmei held the white cloth with the bloodstains and residual Cursed Energy under the Flesh Hound's nose.
"Find him!"
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