Jujutsu Kaisen: I have everything I need now!

Chapter 149 Indigenous Peoples?

"The six-eyed man can see energy converging towards a very deep point."

He stretched out his hand and drew a line in the air with his index finger.

"There's something even more terrifying waiting for us on the other side of the mountain."

He didn't reply on the first day of the twelfth month. Instead, he squatted down and placed his right hand on the damp soil beside his feet.

This unpolluted area is small; when you walk barefoot on it, it feels cool to the touch, and you can feel the roots of ferns spreading intricately in the shallow soil.

It's completely different from the scorching clay ground outside.

Just as he was about to say something, the soil beneath his palm suddenly moved.

On the first day of the twelfth month, he immediately withdrew his hand and stood up.

"There's someone there."

A few seconds later, a rustling sound came from the bushes.

A tree branch was parted, and a person emerged.

The man was only about chest-high on the first day of the twelfth lunar month, with gray hair, dark skin, and long, slender fingers.

Several tightly woven straw ropes were wrapped around his wrists, with a few polished black stone beads about the size of a thumb sandwiched between the knots.

He was wearing a short jacket woven from plant fibers, with a faded red cloth wrapped around his lower body, and he was barefoot.

On the first day of the twelfth month, he immediately looked up and met the old man's eyes.

His pupils were dark brown, cloudy but bright, and the whites of his eyes were covered with red blood vessels.

It's not yellowish-brown.

These are the eyes of a living person.

After emerging from the bushes, the old man stood there and sized them up for a few seconds.

His gaze first fell on Gojo Satoru, lingered for a moment, then moved to December 1st, and then to the Black Queen that May was carrying on her shoulder.

Finally, he lowered his head and looked at the soil beneath his feet.

He spoke, in a language completely incomprehensible to the people of December 1st, at a rapid pace, with a lot of guttural sounds and trilled consonants between syllables.

But his tone was anxious, even pleading.

"I don't understand," Huzhang honestly replied.

On the first day of December, he took his cell phone out of his pocket.

There is no signal, but the translation software still works.

He handed the phone to the old man and pointed to the microphone icon on the screen.

The old man stared at the lit screen for two seconds, looking puzzled.

Then he reached out and pressed down on the hand that was holding the phone on December 1st.

Suddenly, December 1st's body stiffened.

A very faint energy seeped into December's body through the old man's palm and then quickly dissipated.

This is neither a curse nor a law.

This is more like an ancient energy.

"Mother Earth is angry."

This time, December 1st understood.

When those syllables entered his ears, they seemed to carry a certain direct meaning, like rough images being directly crammed into his mind.

The old man's voice was very hoarse.

"The bones underground are breaking."

"The water is getting warmer, and the fish are floating to the surface with their white bellies up."

"The roots of the tree are bleeding."

He released his hand from the new moon, turned around, and pointed west with his calloused index finger.

"That thing came from the east. It crossed the forest and took over this place."

The old man paused for a moment, then blinked twice with his cloudy eyes.

"But it didn't stop in the forest."

On the first day of December, he hurriedly asked, "Where did it go?"

The old man did not lower his finger.

"High mountains."

"It burrowed into the belly of the mountain."

"How long have you been inside?"

The old man seemed to understand the question.

He extended three fingers of his right hand, then lowered two, leaving only one.

"one day?"

The old man shook his head and drew an arc on the ground, depicting the sun rising and setting.

One day and one night.

In other words, the Earthly Kings had already entered the Andes Mountains before they reached the rainforest.

The rainforest's labyrinths, swamps, and puppet mercenaries are all delaying tactics left behind.

December 1st and Gojo Satoru exchanged a glance.

No need to say anything more.

The two men reached the same conclusion almost simultaneously: they had been deceived.

From the moment they stepped into the rainforest, Di Kui had no intention of engaging them in a direct confrontation.

He's just stalling for time.

"And another thing," the old man said again.

He squatted down, picked up a dry twig, and drew a rough shape on the damp soil.

First, there is a wavy line, representing the ground.

Then, below the wavy line, he drew a large circle.

He poked a dot in the center of the circle.

"Deep inside the mountain, very deep," the old man pointed to a spot with a withered twig, "there is something there."

"It's sleeping."

"Now, the thing that came is heading towards it."

On the first day of December, I squatted down and looked at the simple line drawing on the soil.

That "thing that has always been there" should be the clone of Di Kui.

The unconscious rock-like humanoid figure, which was detected by the South American branch a month ago and is rooted in a ley line node.

The old man suddenly raised his head, his cloudy eyes staring straight at him.

Then he flattened his palm and slammed it down onto the circle.

Dirt flew everywhere, and the pattern shattered.

The meaning is very clear.

The old man stood up and patted the mud off his hands.

He took a few steps toward the bushes at the edge of this sanctuary, stopped, and looked back at December and the others.

"Walk on top, not on the bottom."

This time, he spoke very slowly, as if giving instructions.

"The mud inside the mountain can eat people."

After saying that, he bent down and disappeared into the bushes.

The branches and leaves swayed a few times, then returned to stillness.

On the first day of the twelfth month, he stood still, looking down at the shattered pattern on the ground.

"Forty kilometers." Gojo Satoru straightened up from the tree. He glanced at his watch, then at the west. "At our current speed, it will take at least four or five hours to get through the rest of the maze to the foot of the mountain."

"Too slow," said the first day of December.

"Hmm," Gojo Satoru cracked his neck a few times, "so we're not going anywhere."

The first day of December raised its head.

"The maze ends around here. It's faster to go west from here than to take a detour." He raised his right hand and glanced at his palm. "Anyway, he's not here, so there's no point in hiding him."

Kugizaki stood up from the fallen log and brushed the debris off his pants.

"So, you're going to force your way in?"

"That's right."

Gojo Satoru put his hands back in his pockets and took a step westward.

The moment my foot stepped off the edge of the pristine earth, that familiar vibration immediately came from the gray-white clay surface.

In the distant woods, the treetops began to sway.

The maze is being rebuilt again.

Gojo Satoru stopped at the boundary between the Pure Land and the Gray Land, his light blue pupils sweeping westward.

"December," he called out, without turning around.

"Um?"

"The old man just said, 'Don't go down there.'"

He paused for a moment.

"It seems that once we reach the other side of the mountain, we'll have to go downhill. Are you okay with that?"

On the first day of December, he looked down at his right hand.

The skin on the palms looked normal, but there were still traces of water left between the fingers from when the black ice melted during the last attack.

He clenched his fist, then relaxed it.

"Let's go."