The person was chanting a curse, but their hands were wielding the black magic.

Lu Ziyun did not directly cut down Lu Suo.

The hand strike, imbued with the power of a thunderbolt, abruptly stopped in mid-air just before it touched the rope.

"You wretched Lu Suo, you're not planning to dodge, are you?!"

"Do you want me to personally harm the remains of my brothers and loved ones?!"

The sorcerer immediately saw through Lu Suo's intentions.

That cunning thousand-year-old curse master deliberately neither dodged nor avoided, and even slightly raised his neck, exposing his vital parts to Lu Ziyun's blade.

His goal was to make Shiki Yunichi's attack land on Itadori Kaori's body.

In this way, even if Lu Suo is killed, even if this scourge that has plagued the world for thousands of years is ended,

Lu Ziyun will forever bear the sin of harming his friend's mother's remains, becoming an insurmountable rift between him and Huzhang.

"I thought that when I was with you, you were just showing a certain aspect of yourself from a certain point in your life over the past millennium."

Lu Ziyun's voice was low and her emotions were complex as she slowly withdrew her hand.

The slashing hand blade was precisely controlled in front of the forehead, the leaping lightning only burning through the stitches.

The ugly scar, like that of a centipede, was completely severed.

Accompanied by a crisp sound of the skull rotating.

The curse master, who had reigned supreme for a thousand years, has finally revealed his true colors once again.

The sutures melted under the high temperature, making a sizzling sound and emitting blue smoke, like an opened jar revealing the truth that had been hidden for far too long.

That source of curses that manipulates countless destinies and orchestrates countless conspiracies.

That lumpy face, the mastermind behind thousands of years of history and countless historical processes, is now exposed to the light of day like a discarded viscera.

The brain trembled slightly, gleaming with a nauseating sheen in the afterglow of the setting sun.

"I never imagined you were this disgusting!"

Lu Ziyun made no attempt to hide her disgust.

With palms outstretched like claws, the five fingers, like iron hooks, probed into the open skull cavity, grabbing out the brain. The forceful knuckles directly tore through the outer skin, causing a lot of disgusting liquid to flow out of the brain.

"Rest in peace, mother of my friend."

Xiao Lu's tone suddenly softened, as if she were a completely different person.

They carefully lifted Kaori Itadori's body, as if handling the most precious treasure in the world.

The gesture was filled with respect and mourning.

It finally broke free from the body that had been occupied for so many years and found the peace it deserved.

The brain was injected with a positive charge, which attracted the negative charge on Lu Zi's body.

Purple arcs of electricity danced across the surface of the brain, like invisible ropes tightly binding the mass of tissue.

A wet trail was left on the ground. With each step, an electric current jumped between Brain Flower and Deer Purple Cloud.

The brain tissue was stretched and deformed, and then twitched.

Each electric shock inflicted more torment on it, and each pull caused it more pain.

Like a piece of trash, it was dragged on the ground, stumbling and falling among the rubble and tiles, leaving a shocking mark.

"Brother, I'm back!"

After trekking back to the battlefield, Lu Ziyun found a relatively flat spot and gently laid down Itadori Kaori's body.

Then he flung the brains out hard, letting them hit the ground with a thud!

On the ground now.

There are two lumps.

A lump of Nuo clay.

A lump of lumps.

Two unidentified lumps of matter were wriggling on the ground, making a complete mess of things.

The former King of Curses and the Millennium Curse Master are now like two areas thrown ashore.

Writhing futilely in the soil, exuding the stench of decay under the setting sun, awaiting its final judgment.

The scene is both absurd and tragic.

"call……"

I'll probably forget about you after dinner.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest trash-talking master of the modern era, finally stopped mocking Sukuna, as if defeating the King of the Thousand-Year Curse was just a small episode in his daily life.

Su Nuo gritted his teeth amidst the mockery and insults, his body trembling violently, his surface constantly undulating, yet he was helpless and could only writhe incessantly.

The one still remaining on the battlefield is no longer the King of Curses.

He was not a complete failure.

"Alright, five. Now it's up to Itadori."

Fukuro pressed down on Gojo's shoulder, his eyes regaining a look of relief as he pointed at the pink figure that was slowly crouching down in front of Itadori Kaori.

The figure cast a long shadow in the setting sun, appearing both lonely and strong in the breeze.

Itadori's gaze fell on Itadori Kaori, as if he had just finished saying a long and affectionate goodbye.

Finally, Huzhang clenched his fist tightly, his gaze hardening once more, and took a firm step toward a Nuo Tuo statue.

Keep your tender emotions deep inside.

His unwavering will was revealed in his eyes.

"Your trash talk... is definitely reserved for this guy!"

Fu Hei spread his arms wide, encompassing the brain flower within them, as if conducting a grand welcoming ceremony, and wore a meaningful smile.

"Killing him like this feels too easy!"

Lu Ziyun put her hands on her hips, her eyes filled with displeasure, clearly not satisfied with this way of handling things.

In his view, such heinous criminals should be torn to pieces.

"That's what I think too."

As Fuhei looked at the face etched into his brain tissue, the series of events that had unfolded over the past few days flooded his mind.

It all started with the chaos in Shibuya.

A desperate battle to Tokyo.

Memories of fighting amidst the ruins, moments hovering on the edge of life and death.

The despair of the first reincarnation.

The struggle of the second cycle of reincarnation.

And to return to this sweltering summer.

Although it accomplished many changes that altered the timeline, it steered the entire Cursed World toward a better ending.

Those who had died came back to life, the tragedies that had occurred were rewritten, and the irreparable regrets were made up for.

but.

Every drop of blood and tears shed was deeply imprinted in Fu Hei's mind.

Those memories, like scars from a branding iron, are forever imprinted on his soul, and will likely accompany him throughout his life, even until he is buried in his grave.

"What a heavy curse..."

Fu Hei closed his eyes, exhaling a long, stale breath, as if trying to completely dissolve all the malice in his lungs and expel those heavy memories with that breath.

"Seriously, we took such a long detour..."

"Bullshit!"

"You bastard! Do you think I'll let this go?"

"Killing you a thousand times, a hundred times wouldn't be enough!"

Fu Hei suddenly flared up again.

"If you are a curse that has lasted for a thousand years, then I... wouldn't mind cursing you for another thousand years."

Fu Hei slowly drew the Soul Release Blade, its blade gleaming coldly in the setting sun, reflecting the burning rage in his eyes.

We are prepared to completely eradicate this evil existence before us.

With this sword that can sever souls, we will completely eradicate this scourge from the world, denying him even the chance of reincarnation and ensuring that his soul cannot remain.

"Let me see if it's stronger than a thousand-year-old soul, or if the Soul-Releasing Blade in my hand is sharper..."

"Fushiguro-sensei!" The sudden boyish tone stopped Fushiguro.

Gojo Satoru used his limitless power to block the downward strike of the Soul Release Blade, preventing Fukuro from continuing to kill Ryosaku.

"Gojo, what are you doing?"

Fukuro was puzzled, his brows furrowed, but when he glanced at Gojo Satoru's cunning gaze, his killing intent vanished instantly.

understood.

This guy has an even more sinister idea.

"I have a better way to handle this."

When he said those words, Gojo Satoru's lips curled into a sinister smile, sending chills down one's spine.

That sinister aura even made Lu Suo tremble!

"Hasn't he been emphasizing that he's lived through a thousand years?"

"I wouldn't mind using the boundless void to grant him another thousand years..."

Gojo Satoru slowly interlaced his knuckles, once again adopting that familiar starting stance.

"Of course, this is over a thousand years, within twelve thousand months, and over eight million seven hundred and sixty thousand hours..."

Gojo Satoru's voice sounded like the whisper of a demon.

"Repeatedly dying."