That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B! Chapter 483: The Brain in the Rubble (Patreon)

No one could react. Suzuki was simply too fast.

One second he was standing beside Maki, the flash of cameras and neon signs reflecting in his eyes, and the next, he had crossed the intersection in a sonic boom, appearing directly in front of the last villain, or the conspirator of everything.

Seeing Kenjaku standing there, so arrogant and untouchable amidst the burning civilians, Suzuki naturally decided to kill him. Or, at the very least, beat him to a bloody pulp. Frankly, this guy disgusted him.

Why? Because Kenjaku viewed humanity as nothing more than disposable lab rats for his morbid experiments. This guy's goal was disgustingly simple: merge all non-sorcerers in Japan with Master Tengen, forcing a massive, insane evolution upon the human race. It was crazy. No one—not even Kenjaku—knew what would happen if millions of human brains were forcibly modified and fused into a single cursed entity.

And Kenjaku didn't care. If millions died, it was just a failed experiment. He was driven purely by twisted curiosity and the thrill of chaos, using trial and error to push the boundaries of cursed energy.

Yet, for all his plans, Kenjaku was a hypocrite. When it came to his own safety, he was a massive coward. Despite hoarding unimaginable power and currently possessing the body of Suguru Geto—a Special Grade—he avoided Satoru Gojo. He knew that the moment he stepped into Gojo's line of sight, he would be obliterated. Furthermore, thinking about how this parasite had hijacked the corpse of Yuji Itadori's mother just to give birth to the boy, playing with human lives and hearts so callously... it made Suzuki's blood boil.

So, should Kenjaku die right here, right now?

Hmm...

Suzuki stepped through the thick, choking smoke of the Shibuya intersection. The sickening stench of melting asphalt and burning flesh assaulted his nose, mixed with the sharp, metallic tang of ozone crackling in the air.

If he wanted to, could he actually permanently kill Kenjaku? The parasite had lived for over a thousand years. He had been killed by previous Six Eyes users in the past, yet he always came back. How? Brain-hopping. Every vessel Kenjaku possessed bore the same grotesque stitched scar across the forehead. He hollowed out their skulls and took the bodies.

This was exactly why Kenjaku had spent centuries hiding from the Six Eyes, waiting until he could seal Gojo in the Prison Realm, as he knew that he wasn't Gojo's opponent.

Wait, shouldn't Kenjaku have just killed Gojo when Gojo was a baby?

If Kenjaku killed a Six Eyes user, the universe would just birth another one to maintain the balance, throwing his plans into the dark. Kenjaku loved being the unseen observer, the chess master controlling the board.

But Suzuki wasn't a pawn. He was flipping the table.

While Suzuki knew Kenjaku's endgame, he initially hadn't planned on interfering. Whether Tengen lived or died didn't matter to him. But leaving a wild, unpredictable variable like Kenjaku unchecked felt like trouble.

Could his 'Manager' ability predict the exact outcome of killing Kenjaku today? Sure. But running billions of complex, multiversal simulations consumed an immense amount of mental energy. It was like maxing out an ultra-premium AI server—why burn all that quota usage running predictions when he could just end the problem for all?

As for how the plot might change if he killed Kenjaku? 

He wasn't sure, but let's just beat the shit out of him first, he decided, his knuckles cracking loudly over the roar of the flames.

What is happening? What is going on? Why am I lying in the dirt, and why is my skull fractured?!

For Kenjaku, the last three seconds were a blur of unimaginable violence. One moment, he had been smiling, deeply entertained by the horrific concert of human screams. Jogo's flames had turned Shibuya into a beautiful, hell-like stage, and the burning humans were dancing in agony. Kenjaku had been musing about how he would eventually orchestrate the downfall of Suzuki Zenin—that arrogant, capitalist upstart who thought he could buy his way to the top of jujutsu society.

He hadn't realized that Suzuki was literally down the street, on a date with Maki, and had just witnessed the massacre.

Now, Kenjaku was buried under three tons of crushed concrete and shattered glass. He coughed, a thick wad of dark blood splattering against his own teeth. His ears were ringing violently, deaf to the sirens wailing in the distance.

He felt a massive spike in cursed energy.

"Goodbye."

Suzuki materialized through the dust cloud, moving at Mach 3. The sheer force of the wind from his arrival blew the heavy rubble away like dry leaves. He raised his fist, fully intending to punch straight through Kenjaku's skull, pulverize the cursed brain inside, and turn it into minced meat.

But Kenjaku was a monster who had survived a millennium of assassinations. He didn't hesitate.

"Oh?"

Suzuki suddenly aborted the punch. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He pivoted on his heel, his leg muscles bulging as he kicked off the cracked pavement, instantly breaking the sound barrier again.

He reappeared next to Maki, wrapping a strong arm tightly around her slender, toned waist. He pulled her athletic curves flush against his chest. Even amidst the smoke and ash, he could smell the faint, intoxicating scent of her shampoo and the warm, musky scent of her sweat.

He didn't have time to enjoy the softness of her body pressing into his. He flooded his cursed energy outward, covering the two of them in a dense, protective barrier. He accelerated to Mach 5. If he didn't shield her, the sheer friction of moving at hypersonic speeds would instantly shred her clothes off and heavily burn her skin, despite her Heavenly Restriction.

As Suzuki shot out of the blast radius with Maki safely secured in his arms, Kenjaku unleashed his strongest technique!

Maximum: Uzumaki.

Thousands of hoarded cursed spirits were forcibly crushed together, their grotesque bodies compacting into a single, dense vortex of pure, pitch-black cursed energy. A deafening, overlapping screech of a thousand dying monsters tore through the air, shattering the remaining glass in the Shibuya crossing.

The swirling maelstrom of screaming faces and dark matter condensed into a blinding beam of light, firing directly at the spot where Suzuki had previously been. 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMM!!

The beam struck a city block. The heat and concussive force instantly vaporized the asphalt, the buildings, and the air itself, leaving nothing but a blinding white flash and a crater of molten earth in the heart of Tokyo.