Curse Return: Demon Void Girl Doesn't Want to Be a Weakling

"Gojo Satoru": The report to the outside world is that he died in a mission at the juvenile detention center. His body has been disposed of by Shoko. The report from the other side of the window will be entered into the system in a few hours.

Mashiro stared at the screen.

Hisahito Itadori is dead. This event will be recorded in the official records and become a line in the archives of the Jujutsu High School.

Kugizaki thought he was dead. Fushiguro witnessed his death. The entire jutsu world will receive the same news starting tomorrow.

This also signals the start of the counterattack.

Mashiro: I understand. Kugizaki will keep it from me, and Yuujin will explain it to her himself after he comes out.

"Gojo Satoru": What did you say to her?

"Mashiro": She misunderstood it herself; I just didn't deny it.

"Gojo Satoru":...

"Gojo Satoru": The way you act as an older sister is really...

Gojo Satoru: Fine, let Hisahito worry about it himself when the time comes.

"Mashiro": Anyway, I didn't say he died, so it's none of my business.

"Five Wise Wisdoms": Good, good, good.

"Gojo Satoru": Fushiguro asked me to tell you that next time, no one will be left to cover the retreat.

"Gojo Satoru": He looked very serious when he said that. I think you can look forward to his growth.

"Mashiro": I hope so.

She turned her phone upside down and placed it face down on the coffee table, then sat on the sofa for a long time.

The living room was quiet, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of Tokyo at night. In the distance, the trees in the direction of the high school cast jagged shadows under the streetlights.

The sky in Tokyo is never starless. Occasionally a car passes by downstairs, its high beams sweeping across the curtains before disappearing again.

She leaned against the sofa armrest, her face buried in her arms, her silver hair spreading out to cover half her face, her breath coming in slow, warm gasps between the fabric and her skin.

She didn't sleep; she just lay there, letting her body sink into the soft cushions of the sofa, emptying her body and mind after two days of running around.

Half an hour later, she sat up, picked up her phone, and re-entered Gojo's chat window.

"Mashiro": Let me know as soon as the higher-ups react.

The reply came very quickly.

"Five Insights": I understand, you should rest first.

"Mashiro": There's one more question.

"Five Insights": to say.

"Mashiro": Shigeru Sakakibara's medical records were obtained at 11 p.m. the night before, but the juvenile detention center's missions were only distributed on the same day.

"Mashiro": In other words, he knew in advance that a task would be entered into the system the next day, but he didn't know what the task was.

"Gojo Satoru": That's right. He's only responsible for issuing leave slips and signing meeting notices, and he delegates authority to the deputy section chief. Distributing juvenile detention center missions and Saitama missions is done by someone else.

"Five Insights": The accounts of former employees, the backup terminals, and the lack of card swiping in the server room all indicate that the same group of people are operating these systems.

"Mashiro": So there are two groups of people.

"Gojo Satoru": There should be at least two groups, one group is responsible for diverting you and me, and the other group is responsible for sending Hisahito to his death.

"Five Insights": The first group consists of the section chief and his superior. The second group is more professional and knows how to delete server room records and how to activate accounts that have been abandoned and then discarded. There aren't many people who can do this.

Mashiro looked at this passage.

"Mashiro": Can you check?

"Five Insights": Yes, but it will take time. The higher-ups are waiting to see my reaction; taking any major action now would be tantamount to telling them how much I know.

Gojo Satoru: You want to avenge Hisahito, and so do I, but we'll have to wait for the right time.

"Mashiro": Have I ever said that I hate politics?

"Five Insights": You don't need to tell me, I can see it.

"Mashiro": Then I'll talk about it today.

Gojo Satoru: Hmm?

"Mashiro": I can't control how others deal with me, but as for how they deal with the people around me, they're doomed.

"Gojo Satoru": How terrifying! Your murderous aura today is heavier than all your previous missions combined.

"Mashiro": I haven't even started yet.

"Goji Saga": Call me when the time comes, goodnight.

Mashiro put her phone on the coffee table, stood up, went to the kitchen, and drank another glass of water.

Nothing had changed outside the window, but her mind was a little clearer than before.

The higher-ups' assessment of Mashiro was still that of a first-level sorcerer who could imitate spells, so they only assigned her a near-special-level one.

But now they will find that a near-special-grade fighter is not enough to hold her back, let alone kill her, and they will not make the same mistake next time they make a move.

Mashiro summoned Murasame and wiped the blade clean.

Her own face was reflected in the silvery-white blade. She looked at it and spoke softly to Cong Yu.

"Wait a little longer, until everything is cleared up, then I'll let you kill to your heart's content."

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I've noticed many readers have questions, so I'll be including Q&As in the author's notes section for the next few chapters.

Chapter 29: The Expansion of the Territory (4k)

"Welcome! Are you alone?" the McDonald's employee asked politely, looking at the handsome man in strange attire.

“Yes, I’m the only one.” He nodded and walked to the seat at the back.

"Okay, please come and order when you've decided." The waiter bowed slightly as he walked past him.

Hmm? Why is it a bit hot? I remember turning on the air conditioner, right?

She thought to herself with a puzzled expression.

Xia Youjie simply called it "Tasan".

The text appears to be a jumbled mess of characters and symbols, possibly a corrupted or garbled message. It doesn't form coherent sentences or paragraphs. A direct translation isn't meaningful without further context or clarification.

Louhu nodded, opened his one eye wide, and said, "Curses are the true, pure humanity; the hypocritical imitations should disappear."

He exhaled another breath of hot air. "How can we defeat the sorcerer?"

The text appears to be a jumbled mess of characters and symbols, possibly a corrupted or incomplete message. It doesn't form coherent sentences or paragraphs.

"First, we need to prevent Gojo Satoru from fighting; second, we need to win over Sukuna Toraji Yujin."

Upon hearing this, Lou Hu asked in confusion, "Wasn't that kid dead?"

The text appears to be a jumbled collection of characters and symbols, possibly from a corrupted or incomplete document. It doesn't form coherent sentences or paragraphs. A direct translation isn't meaningful without further context or clarification.

Then he added, "There's one last condition—"

......

"drink!"

Tiger Staff shouted and threw a punch.

"Oh!"

The sandbag was knocked away with great force, and then, under the influence of gravity, it crashed into Huzhang.

"Oh!"

Another punch, the rhythm was very steady.

Yuji Itadori stood in front of the sandbag and slammed his fist into it again and again.

Each punch was imbued with the blue light of incantation, the light exploding the moment his knuckles touched the sandbag, then deliberately suppressed.

The task Gojo gave him was simple: concentrate the power of the incantation into his fist, control the output, and ensure that the fluctuation error of the power of the incantation in each of the fifty consecutive punches does not exceed five percent.

The first twenty punches were alright, but the next punch released too much curse power, causing the sandbag to swing backward and deviate from its target.

"You're off track." Gojo Satoru's voice came from behind, languidly. "Try again."

Without turning around, Huzhang flicked his wrist and readjusted his stance.

Counting starts from zero.

Has he been here for a day, or several days?

He couldn't quite remember; the fluorescent lights didn't cycle day and night, and his cell phone had been taken away by Gojo Satoru, on the grounds that no one could track the signal.

Every day consists of training, eating, and sleeping, with the occasional can of cola brought down by Gojo Satoru as a reward.

At first, you could tell by how many meals he had eaten, but soon the repetitive and tedious training made him forget even how many meals he had eaten.

Eat, then punch a sandbag to aid digestion; eat when hungry, sleep when tired, and continue when awake.

Itarō doesn't dislike this kind of life. Once he has a goal in mind, he doesn't find each punch difficult. He just feels that he's not fast enough.

Quasi-Special Grade.

With each punch he threw, the word would cycle through his mind, and his ability to control his magical power would also increase.

Mashiro-nee alone eliminated the near-Special Grade, but he is still practicing the basics.

He was never jealous; he had long accepted that Mashiro was better than him.

He felt nothing but resentment. It wasn't just that he was weaker than her, but also that he was unwilling to face a situation like the juvenile detention center again, only to have to let Su Nuo out and end up hurting the people around him.

He wanted to become strong enough to stand on his own, strong enough to deal with the enemies who threatened his family.

But progress is too slow!

"Oh!"

The sandbag was punctured.