Chapter 73 (Patreon)

Knock, knock.

“Come in.”

Shoko Ieiri answered without looking up, still sorting through the documents spread across her desk.

The door opened.

“Busy?”

Shoko glanced over.

“Oh. It’s you.” She leaned back slightly. “Not really. Just reports on the sorcerers injured during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.”

Ragnar Kagenou pulled out a chair and sat down like he owned the place.

“So?” Shoko set the papers aside and rubbed her forehead. “What brings you here?”

Ragnar looked at her for a moment before speaking.

“Didn't you ask Gojo that you had something to tell me.”

“Ever since I came back from London… whenever I’m alone, I keep feeling like something is watching me.”

Shoko’s hand paused.

“Watching you?”

“Yeah. When there are people around, I don’t feel it. But the moment I’m by myself, it becomes obvious.”

Ragnar thought for a moment, then slowly looked around the office.

“A cursed spirit?”

“Most likely.”

“Did you ask Satoru to check?”

“I did.” Shoko sighed. “Gojo looked, but even he didn’t find anything. Just some faint traces of cursed energy.”

Ragnar’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Even the Six Eyes couldn’t catch it…”

“Maybe I’m just tired.” Shoko leaned back in her chair. “I haven’t slept properly these past few days, and Kyoto needs me to head over soon too.”

“Doesn’t Kyoto have anyone who can use Reverse Cursed Technique on others?”

Shoko stared at him for a second.

Then she let out a dry laugh.

“You really said that like it’s easy.”

Ragnar blinked.

“Isn’t it?”

“No.” Shoko’s expression went flat. “Sorcerers who can use Reverse Cursed Technique are already rare. Sorcerers who can output it onto other people are even rarer.”

She picked up one of the files and waved it lightly.

“Each one of us is basically a panda.”

Ragnar raised an eyebrow.

“If your talent is that rare, shouldn’t someone be officially assigned to protect you?”

Shoko fell silent.

Then she looked at him like he had just said something incredibly obvious while somehow forgetting his own position.

“Ragnar.”

“What?”

“You and Gojo are both Special Grade sorcerers.”

Ragnar coughed once.

“Right. I forgot.”

Shoko pressed her fingers against her temple.

“You forgot?”

“Anyway,” Ragnar smoothly ignored that, “you’re saying people who can heal others with Reverse Cursed Technique are that rare?”

“At Tokyo Jujutsu High, I’m the only one.”

Ragnar lifted a finger.

“That might not be true.”

Shoko looked at him.

“...What?”

“Yuta Okkotsu. You know him, right?”

Shoko thought for a moment.

“One of your students, wasn’t he?”

Then her eyes sharpened.

“Wait. Don’t tell me he can do it too?”

Ragnar nodded.

“He can.”

For a brief moment, Shoko’s eyes actually lit up.

Finally.

Finally, someone else could suffer with her.

Then Ragnar added calmly, “But Yuta is a combat-type sorcerer. So your dream of throwing your workload at him probably won’t go that smoothly.”

Shoko’s soul visibly left her body.

She sank back into her chair, looking even more exhausted than before.

After a few seconds, she fixed her posture and muttered, “Fine. But I’m still borrowing him when I need to.”

“That’s fine. He’ll probably agree without complaining.”

“Good kid.”

The two talked for a while after that, until the conversation eventually returned to the original issue.

Ragnar leaned back slightly.

“I still think it’s a cursed spirit. If it managed to avoid Satoru’s Six Eyes, then it probably didn’t show itself because Satoru was nearby. He’s too much of a threat.”

Shoko crossed her arms.

“That makes sense.”

“And your situation reminds me of a cursed spirit I dealt with before.”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know its name,” Ragnar said. “But I noticed a pattern. It likes targeting people when they’re alone.”

Shoko waited.

Ragnar continued, “And… it seems to prefer people who smoke.”

Shoko, who had just reached for a cigarette, froze.

“Seriously?”

“When I checked the scenes where it attacked, there were cigarette ashes on the windowsills.”

Shoko stared at the cigarette between her fingers.

“What kind of cursed spirit judges people’s personal habits?”

“Apparently, one with standards.”

“Annoying.”

Ragnar stood.

“We can use that.”

Shoko looked at him.

“You want me to walk into the corridor alone and smoke to lure it out?”

“Exactly.”

Shoko stared at him for a moment.

“You’re using me as bait.”

“You’re the one it wants.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“It makes it efficient.”

Shoko clicked her tongue, but still stood up.

A moment later, she walked alone into the corridor.

The hallway was quiet.

Too quiet.

Shoko reached the far end, leaned against the wall, and lit her cigarette.

The flame flickered once.

“I hope you’re not just some stress-induced hallucination…”

The next instant—

A cold wave of cursed energy flooded the corridor.

Shoko’s eyes sharpened.

“So it’s real.”

The light around her began to fade.

As if the corridor itself had been swallowed by something dark and damp.

Shoko took out her phone and turned on the flashlight.

Nothing.

The light was on, but it barely reached beyond her hand.

“Normal light doesn’t work, huh…”

She exhaled smoke slowly.

“Ragnar was actually right.”

At the end of the corridor, the green emergency exit sign began to flicker.

The fluorescent lights above buzzed violently, flashing in broken intervals.

From the darkness, a tall shadow appeared.

Then vanished.

Only black footprints remained on the floor.

Ragnar watched from the edge of the corridor, his gaze calm.

“To slip inside Tengen’s barrier without being noticed… you’re not completely useless.”

The shadow appeared again.

Then disappeared.

Ragnar’s lips curved faintly.

“So it really is you. I let you go once, and you followed me all the way here.”

It was the cursed spirit from the hotel in the Bila Tserkva District.

After haunting him back then, it had apparently followed him all the way to Jujutsu High.

“Well, whatever.”

Golden ripples spread behind Ragnar, one after another.

Ten gates opened silently in the air.

“I’ll exorcise you now.”

The cursed spirit finally emerged.

It was tall, nearly two meters in height, its body hunched beneath the flickering light.

From the Gate of Babylon, Ragnar drew Ama-no-Sakahoko.

The moment the cursed spirit saw the weapon in his hand, its entire body stiffened in fear.

It ignored Shoko completely and turned to flee.

Ragnar stepped forward.

“Trying to run now?”

The golden light behind him deepened.

“A little late for that.”

Around the cursed spirit was something resembling a Simple Domain, a thin boundary of cursed energy and darkness wrapped around its body.

Ragnar didn’t stop.

He tore through it by force and entered.

Wherever Ama-no-Sakahoko passed, the darkness receded.

The corridor’s original light returned in pieces, like the night being cut open.

Under the glow of the golden ripples, the cursed spirit’s face was finally revealed.

Its cracked skin oozed thick black grease, viscous and foul-smelling, dripping down its body and staining the floor.

The cursed spirit stepped backward.

With every heavy step, the flickering lights distorted its position, making it appear farther away than it really was.

Then its body burst.

Thick black grease splattered across the walls, painting the white corridor pitch-black.

From the foul puddle spreading across the floor, another tall black figure rose.

Swish!

Ama-no-Sakahoko swept through the air.

The shadow split apart and dissolved instantly.

Ragnar lowered the weapon slightly.

“Not Special Grade, then.”

Shoko, still holding her cigarette, stared at the ruined corridor.

“…You know, if the higher-ups ask, I’m saying this was your fault.”

Ragnar glanced at the black grease dripping down the walls.

“That’s fair.”

Shoko exhaled slowly.

“Also, next time you use me as bait, at least buy me coffee afterward.”

Ragnar looked at her.

“You’re still smoking in the middle of an exorcism.”

“I’m a doctor. I know exactly how bad it is.”

“That makes it worse.”

“Shut up.”