Jujutsu Kaisen.
An anime I had watched… apparently in my last life. Because there was no possible way I wouldn't know if my own world had superpowers and someone named Gege had made an anime about it.
As for how I ended up in this world… that was anyone's guess.
I couldn't recall it.
Most of my memories had returned, but that didn't mean I remembered everything. Everything was still a mess.
It felt like someone had broken a videotape, tossed all the pieces into the air, and then slowly picked them up one by one, sticking them back together with cheap commercial glue without bothering to check which piece belonged where.
'Perhaps a few more of those Black Flashes should've helped…' I thought.
Unfortunately, that wasn't something under my control. Landing a Black Flash depended largely on luck.
It wasn't exactly reassuring to know that I had survived out of sheer luck.
So for the sake of my sanity, I decided to consider it skill instead of luck—no matter how dangerous that assumption might be for my long-term health.
I lay on the ground.
My clothes were torn open. My body felt tortured. Countless small wounds covered my skin. I was exhausted to the bone.
Fighting hundreds of curse spirits back-to-back was a nightmare.
It felt like it had taken forever.
But somehow… it hadn't.
Some sort of time nonsense probably happened due to the Domain being a separate subspace or something. I couldn't care less about those technical details right now.
All I knew was that it felt like I had been fighting for hours—maybe even days.
Yet outside the Domain, only a few minutes had passed when my technique finally ended.
I drew deep, desperate breaths like a man starved of oxygen.
My heart was beating so violently it felt like it had a personal rivalry with a racing car engine.
Blood soaked my clothes.
All of it was mine, since the blood of curse spirits evaporated almost immediately after they died.
And yet… surprisingly enough… I had no open wounds left.
They had all healed by the time the final curse spirit fell and my Domain finally collapsed.
I grimaced as I tried to move.
My wounds might have healed, but the pain remained.
With great difficulty, I pushed myself up and began limping toward the exit.
I needed to get out of here.
I needed a quiet place to think… to figure things out.
Forcing my aching body forward, I climbed one stair at a time toward the upper floors.
Fortunately, the floor above me was completely clear of those monstrosities.
I limped through it slowly, taking my time while my mind desperately tried to piece together my shattered memories.
"Before anything else… I'd really like to know my own damn name," I grumbled to myself.
It was maddening.
I couldn't remember who I was, yet I somehow knew I had just been fighting curse spirits inside an anime world.
Grumbling and muttering under my breath, I pushed forward until I reached the final floor.
If I climbed this last staircase, I would reach the ground level of Shibuya Station.
Surely once I reached the surface… I could get out of this entire madness.
Right?
I couldn't have been more wrong.
The moment I stepped onto the ground floor of Shibuya Station, I found three very recognisable faces standing there.
Almost as if they had been waiting specifically for me.
An old man wearing a traditional haori with a funny-looking moustache stood in the front, holding a wine gourd.
Next to him stood a man wearing sunglasses and a fancy business suit. In his hand was what looked like a large kitchen knife wrapped carefully in cloth.
And beside them stood a teenage girl around my age.
She wore glasses, had black hair with a faint green tint, and was dressed in what looked like a school uniform. In her hands she held a large naginata.
I blinked.
My memories of Jujutsu Kaisen were still fragmented.
Since arriving in this world, I had focused almost entirely on surviving. That focus had saved my life… and it might continue to do so.
So when I saw them, I instantly felt a strange sense of familiarity.
I had seen them somewhere in my memories.
But I couldn't recall their names.
"A civilian?" the girl narrowed her eyes and asked.
"No… he's a curse user," the man in the suit replied calmly.
"Heh… those glasses of yours might help you see curse spirits, Maki," the old man snorted from behind them while taking a sip from his gourd.
"But they're useless against curse users like this one."
Maki…
I could only blink as I mentally stored that name for later.
Instinctively, I raised my hands.
"Umm… hello. Are you guys Jujutsu Sorcerers? I'm not hostile. Could you help me out here?" I asked, raising both my hands so they could clearly see them.
Silence fell over the small group.
They stared at me like I had just said something completely insane.
"Are you serious right now?" the girl—Maki—growled, glaring at me angrily.
"Yeah," I nodded innocently.
"You have cursed energy. Do you really expect us to believe that lie?" the suited man said calmly.
Honestly… his calm tone was a bit unnerving.
"Well… about that," I scratched my head awkwardly. "Would you believe me if I said I just awakened this power… and then got chased by those curse spirits?"
Even I wasn't sure if I would believe that story.
The three of them exchanged silent looks.
None of those looks filled me with confidence.
I could only hope their decision didn't involve taking me hostage.
Or worse… eliminating the source of the problem.
"Who are you?" the suited man finally sighed and asked.
Who am I?
I wish I knew.
I rummaged desperately through my fragmented memories, trying to find anything about my past life or even this body's life.
All I wanted was a name.
When I took too long to answer, the tension in the air grew noticeably thicker.
"I… I can't quite remember," I admitted slowly. "All I remember is waking up and seeing a bunch of people frozen like statues. I was one of them."
"I saw this one man with white hair killing curses. His name was Satoru."
I pointed vaguely behind me.
That didn't relax them.
If anything, they became even more tense.
"You saw Gojo?" the suited man asked sharply.
"His name was Satoru," I replied. "At least that's what the black-haired man in monk robes called him."
"Black-haired man in monk robes… you mean Geto?" the suited man frowned.
Geto.
Another name to remember.
Honestly, with the state my brain was in, I doubted I could keep track of all these names.
Come to think of it… weren't they speaking Japanese?
Not only could I understand them, I was replying in Japanese as well.
"I don't know," I shrugged apologetically. "I just remember the black-haired guy calling the pretty white-haired man Satoru."
The suited man muttered quietly to the others.
"Only Geto calls Gojo by his first name like that. I can't think of any other black-haired man in monk robes who would."
"But that's impossible," Maki said immediately. "That man died last year during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons."
"What else do you remember?" the suited man asked me.
"Uh… sorry, but I didn't catch your name," I said awkwardly. "Since I can't even remember mine, I can't quite properly introduce myself ."
The suited man paused.
Then he sighed and introduced himself.
"I am Kento Nanami. A Grade One Jujutsu Sorcerer. This is Maki Zenin, a Grade Four Jujutsu Sorcerer. And this is Naobito Zenin, a Supreme Grade One Sorcerer and the head of the Zenin Clan."
'Now that's a reliable man', I thought.
"Don't call me that, Nanami," Maki snapped. "And you—just call me Maki."
Okay.
Just Maki.
Noted.
"Now then," Nanami continued. "Tell us everything you remember about Satoru."
As he spoke, he seemed to be observing me more carefully.
Only now did he seem to notice my torn clothes and the blood covering my body.
I also noticed something else.
The person beside him wasn't exactly a man.
He looked more like a boy around Maki's age.
Suddenly my claim of having just awakened my powers and losing my memory probably sounded slightly more believable.
Just a little.
"Well…" I thought for a moment. "I saw him get captured by something. A strange object."
"It looked like a cube at first. Then it suddenly opened into something else entirely and trapped the white-haired guy."
I actually remembered the name of that object.
Something like the Prison Realm.
But that knowledge came from my fragmented memories of the anime.
It definitely wasn't something a newly awakened civilian should know.
So I wisely kept my mouth shut.
Not that they noticed.
By now they already knew Gojo had been sealed. What they didn't know was how.
Now they had a clue.
But that created a new problem.
What were they supposed to do with me?
I could be lying.
But they also couldn't just leave me here.
The cursed energy they sensed from me was slightly stronger than that of an average sorcerer.
So maybe… I could be useful later.
Nanami seemed ready to order me to follow him outside and report to someone—probably the managers.
But before he could speak, Naobito interrupted him.
"Forget the boy. We have bigger problems."
He lazily lifted his gourd and pointed forward.
"Isn't that right… curse spirit hiding over there?"
All of our heads snapped toward the direction he was looking.
And sure enough…
A red, octopus-like curse spirit was standing there.