Jujutsu Kaisen: I Can Manipulate Time.

By the time Kamihara Hajime arrived at the prison, the situation was far worse than the Ono Prison incident. When the Curse was initially detected, it was mistaken for a lower-grade spirit due to the weak Cursed Energy signature. As a result, a First Grade and a Second Grade sorcerer were dispatched. What should have been a simple extermination ended in tragedy—both sorcerers were killed.

Thankfully, before their deaths, the sorcerers managed to deploy and reinforce a Curtain, sealing the Cursed Spirit inside. The report was sent immediately afterward.

The personnel stationed outside were surprised by Hajime's swift arrival. They had barely issued the emergency call—how had someone already shown up? And this young man… was he truly capable of handling a Special Grade Cursed Spirit?

"Tokyo Jujutsu High, Kamihara Hajime. Status report," he said, voice calm and direct.

The auxiliaries stiffened. They recognized the name. Kamihara Hajime. A Special Grade sorcerer—one they'd only heard about in whispers. Now, here he was in person.

One of the staff stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Hajime-sama, the Curse is powerful. Most couldn't escape. Inside... it's likely already too late. Please—your priority is the extermination."

Hajime gave a brief nod and stepped through the Curtain. Behind him, someone muttered a prayer, "May your martial prowess prevail."

Inside, silence. The presence of the Curse was faint, nearly undetectable.

As he advanced deeper into the prison, Hajime encountered the first bodies—prisoners. He crouched beside one. The corpse's face was frozen in panic, a silent scream locked in its final moment. There were no visible wounds, no signs of struggle. But a closer look revealed a faint puncture near the carotid artery—thin, precise, almost bloodless. The skin was pale, drained.

Dozens more littered the hall, stretching toward a distant open door. It was clear: they had tried to flee and been killed in an instant.

Moving farther in, Hajime noted the building's internal structure had subtly shifted—likely a side effect of the Curse's presence. Rooms were warped, darkened. More bodies. Some were staff, most were inmates. Their deaths mirrored the others—faces twisted in terror, bodies collapsed mid-motion.

He released a wave of Cursed Energy—nothing responded. Not even residual fluctuations.

Then—

"Save me…"

The whisper came from behind a thick wall.

Totsuka-no-Tsurugi gleamed as Hajime slashed it open with surgical precision. The reinforced concrete cracked apart effortlessly. A man—an inmate—stumbled forward, eyes wild with fear.

"A monster—it's still here!"

Hajime remained alert, ready to activate his Technique at the slightest sign. But nothing stirred.

"Calm down," he said, but before the prisoner could respond, his expression froze. His body collapsed.

Hajime immediately activated Time Null State. Everything around him slowed, space folding inwards slightly.

Nothing.

He scanned the area, tore down adjacent walls, checked every hidden corner. No Curse. No presence. No trace.

Deactivating his Technique, he checked the fallen man. Still warm. No injuries. But no heartbeat either. Oddly, the prisoner's skin retained its color, and a faint pulse had lingered—yet his Cursed Energy had completely vanished. As if he'd been hollowed out.

"A soul-level attack," Hajime muttered, standing slowly. "There are two different methods of killing—one drains blood, the other destroys the soul. Two culprits, or one Curse with dual techniques."

His Reverse Cursed Technique remained active at all times—any physical damage would instantly be healed. That gave him the freedom to investigate further.

Suddenly, a shift.

An attack?

Yes—his Reverse Technique had triggered. But again, no trace of a Curse.

Hajime didn't immediately use Time Stop. Its cooldown, though short, left a gap. Instead, he began moving unpredictably, testing.

No further attacks came while his Technique was inactive. So—it wasn't long-range.

He stepped into an open space and activated Time Rain, a barrier-infused extension of his innate Technique. Anything entering the range would be sensed—seen or not.

Then he stood still, letting himself be vulnerable.

An attack hit.

He felt no pain—no physical impact. But his thoughts blurred, just slightly. His body was untouched. And then, clarity returned. His Technique had reversed the effect.

"A soul strike," he confirmed. "That explains everything."

Mahito wasn't the only one with access to soul-based Techniques, it seemed.

Most sorcerers couldn't sense the soul, let alone defend it. That's why Mahito was so deadly—because Reverse Cursed Technique can't heal soul damage. Once the soul is altered or destroyed, the body follows.

Only through constant Reverse Technique and his innate Time powers could Hajime defend against it.

"If the Curse is close enough to attack my soul," Hajime whispered, "then it's within range."

Time Stop.

Everything within two hundred meters froze—Cursed Energy and all.

And there it was.

Suspended midair, frozen in the moment, was a grotesque cat-shaped Cursed Spirit. Its massive body was translucent black-violet. In its face sat a single, vertical red eye.

It had two tails and massive human-like limbs fused into its frame. On its side—a human face, twisted in agony. Not a resemblance. A real face. Real flesh.

"A fusion," Hajime said grimly. "Like the failed artificial sorcerer—Tengu. But worse."

He moved swiftly. Totsuka-no-Tsurugi cut the Curse's head clean off. Onikiri and Spider Cutter impaled its limbs.

Time resumed.

The Curse collapsed, not yet dead, but near it. The severed head twitched. From the human mouth came a broken cry, "Save me…"

Too late.

This wasn't a Curse using a human host like Sukuna in Yuji. Nor was it a Curse incarnated into a corpse. This was soul fusion—irreversible. The person was gone. The Curse had simply absorbed their final instinct, like a dying breath.

The Curse's body began to vanish—not dissipate, but erase. Hajime narrowed his eyes. "Not dying normally."

The human face still twitched. This wasn't over.

He activated the Shura Shadow Blade. It fell, cleaving through the fading remains. As his blade pierced the core, the eye in the cat's head trembled—and then went dark.

Still, Hajime sensed something off.

It wasn't dead.

He moved on, exploring the prison. Room by room, corpse by corpse.

No survivors.

Doors had been clawed open. Some rooms looked like they had been torn apart by something large. The coordinated killings... clearly premeditated. Clearly deliberate.

"Mahito's group again," he muttered.

Just as he finished his sweep—

Another attack.

Time Stop.

The Nekomata appeared again. Identical. Hideous. Its presence still warped.

This time, Hajime didn't hold back.

Totsuka-no-Tsurugi gleamed once more.

The Curse died.

Then revived.

He killed it again.

And again.

And again.

It revived eighty-six times.

With each death, it grew weaker. It lost its invisibility. Its soul-based attacks dulled. Eventually, even without Time Stop, Hajime could slice it apart with ease.

On its final resurrection, it could no longer flee. He impaled it mid-scream.

It vanished, this time for real.

The prison fell quiet.

Kamihara Hajime stood amid the ruin, unsheathing and sheathing his blade in one fluid motion. His expression never changed.

"Eighty-six lives. One Curse. No survivors."

He looked toward the sky beyond the Curtain.

"This won't be the last."

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Thank you for the "Generous" Powerstones ರ⁠_⁠ರ