Evening.
The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, the stars had vanished, and the sky was shrouded in darkness with not a glimmer of light.
Sōjun Minamoto lay on the floor mat, legs together, hands naturally resting at his waist, ready for sleep.
Suguru Geto was on watch for the first half of the night.
The village chief and his wife had already gone to bed. Sōjun Minamoto could hear their steady breathing—his wife was even snoring.
"I'm going to sleep," he said to the one on watch, reminding him to stay alert.
In three minutes, he'd be sound asleep.
Suguru Geto sat by the low table, part of his attention following the Cursed Spirits stationed outside as they patrolled the village, the rest focused on the house.
He nodded in response to the reminder.
The house fell completely silent.
The room was dim. Suguru Geto glanced at Sōjun Minamoto and subtly shifted his position.
He let his shadow fall across Sōjun Minamoto's face.
...
Later in the night.
Sōjun Minamoto woke naturally, rolled over, and spotted a large hole in the shoji screen. A human face was staring through it—eyes wide, features twisted.
The face locked eyes with him and paused for a moment.
Haaa... haa...
It let out two dry wheezes. The skin on its face began to tremble violently, then it suddenly lunged forward, forcing its way through the hole. Its bloodshot eyes bulged wildly as it half-stumbled, half-charged into the room, rushing straight at Sōjun Minamoto.
The shoji door behind it shattered, leaving just half hanging from the frame, creaking as it swung.
The thing that burst in—was it human? It crawled on all fours, head raised high, scuttling like a gecko across the floor with unsettling speed.
It was clearly the same villager who had blocked their way into the shrine earlier.
Several more identical figures followed, all crawling low to the ground in the same eerie, lizard-like manner.
Where was Geto?
Sōjun Minamoto sat up unhurriedly. Suguru Geto was no longer at the table. It seemed he wasn't in the room.
The first villager had already leapt forward, reeking faintly of rot. Its mouth gaped open as it lunged at him, drool flying.
Sōjun Minamoto frowned, grabbed its head, and slammed it hard into the floor.
Thud.
The floor trembled.
It was clear now—Geto really wasn't around. Otherwise, that sound alone would have alerted him.
Sōjun Minamoto dropped the thought. Suguru Geto was no slouch—he controlled thousands of Cursed Spirits. No one in the current Jujutsu World could sneak past his senses and subdue him in silence.
Sōjun stood up, rolled his neck, and casually kicked aside the next lunging villager like a soccer ball. He walked forward, kicking aside the others as he went, carving out a path to the door.
He stepped over the bodies and exited into the living room.
The candles flanking the household shrine flickered, casting a small halo of light. Beyond it, darkness loomed, deep and oppressive.
Anyone else might have instinctively moved toward the light.
But not Sōjun Minamoto. He didn't even consider switching on the lights—there was no need.
He made his way toward the village chief's room.
Step... step... step...
His footsteps echoed on the floorboards, loud in the silence.
Reaching the chief's room, he looked through the shoji screen and saw the couple lying peacefully in bed, their breathing steady.
But when he slid the door open, he found only two empty futons. Behind him, the shoji screen vanished. On the opposite wall, a new one appeared, instantly torn and tattered, with only half of it still hanging on the frame.
From the corridor, an endless wave of villagers came crawling, scrambling into the room.
Sōjun Minamoto unfolded a crimson barrier around himself, keeping the creatures at bay. The ones that touched it froze in place, and before the red aura could spread, they dissolved into black mist and vanished.
He pressed forward, his figure barely visible in the growing darkness. He walked straight through the broken screen and returned to the living room.
The villagers vanished in an instant.
Only the flickering candlelight remained beside the shrine.
He touched his chin thoughtfully.
Suguru Geto was missing. There was no way he would've just left while on watch. They were only a few feet apart—no matter how urgent the situation, there should've been enough noise to wake him.
But Sōjun had sensed nothing.
It felt like he was the only one left in the house. Every other room looked normal from the outside, but once opened, they became that same room he had been sleeping in...
Followed by the same wave of crawling villagers.
Sōjun stood in the living room.
The stone statue by the shrine was practically screaming for attention now.
It felt like it was mocking him.
He walked up to the shrine and stared at it.
Clever.
It knew how to hide the crucial details while mixing in just enough false information to mislead them—making them think only the statues brought back from the shrine could serve as nodes.
In reality, it could create them based on appearance alone.
Tonight, the final node had been laid. The Domain had expanded, now covering the entire village.
Sōjun looked into the statue's eyes, and through it, into something else's.
The statue's lips curled into a grin. Sōjun flinched.
Then he smiled too.
...
The scene shifted.
He was back inside the shrine.
Atop the nine-tiered platform, the god statue was gone. In its place stood a stone throne, ringed by broken swords and blooming thorns.
There, seated on the throne:
A man, arm wrapped with a fire serpent, green-skinned with fangs, crimson hair flowing wildly, his frame tall and muscular. Veins of blood-red light ran along his sculpted muscles, embodying strength and beauty, godhood and monstrosity alike.
The two stared at each other...
Suddenly, Sōjun caught a faint scent of soapberry, tinged with flowers. He couldn't place the type, but it was light and pleasant—comforting.
He blinked.
The shrine vanished.
He was back on the futon.
Sōjun sensed something. He rolled over—again, a hole in the shoji screen. A distorted human face stared in, lifeless eyes wide.
The villagers were dead.
Suguru Geto stood before a pile of corpses, inspecting the Residuals of Cursed Energy.
The village chief and his wife arrived soon after.
The chief rushed forward and froze when he saw the bodies—his fellow villagers. They lay twisted on the ground, joints bent the wrong way, heads twisted unnaturally, shriveled and motionless. The faint stench of decay clung to them.
They were long gone.
The chief's legs buckled. He collapsed, hollow-eyed, muttering, "It's my fault... all my fault... I killed them..."
His wife stepped up, smacked his head, then kicked him aside. She crouched by the bodies, pressing around their torsos and limbs. After a while, she said:
"Dead three or four days now. Damn it..."
She adjusted their heads and limbs, laying them out neatly on the floor one by one.
Looking at their twisted, barely human faces, she muttered again,
"Damn it..."
Suguru Geto stepped in to calm them.
Sōjun Minamoto looked behind them—two faint, translucent blue figures hovered there, faces vaguely resembling the ones in the old black-and-white photo.
The figures nodded at him.
Sōjun nodded back, quietly.
By now, he understood the price the village chief had paid.
Longing... was that considered a negative emotion too?
The chief had wished to see his deceased parents again, and the Aragami had granted that wish. But in truth, it had twisted his longing into a curse. Amplified by the Aragami, it trapped their spirits, denying them peace.
They had borne the cost in full.
Sōjun looked closely. The figures were formed from fractured souls fused with Cursed Energy, while the corpses on the ground were simply hollow shells—broken bodies bound with Cursed Energy, their souls long gone.
These were all that remained—both living and dead—in the entire village.
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake