Jujutsu Kaisen: I Can Manipulate Time.

Kamihara Hajime was searching Matsumoto Den's body for other clues when footsteps suddenly approached from outside the factory. Turning, he saw a young man, not much older than himself, with a strikingly handsome face.

They exchanged confused glances. Hajime recognized the man as the Curse Master target, Uehara Masanobu. Despite his likable appearance, his deeds were far worse than Matsumoto Den's.

Hajime sighed inwardly. This is too easy. I don't even need to search—the mission targets are delivered right to me. Could anything be simpler?

Uehara Masanobu's gaze swept over the young man in the familiar uniform holding a sword, then to the monster lying at his feet. His heart sank. Tentatively, he asked, "Are you from Tokyo Jujutsu High?"

Hajime had intended to finish him off immediately but remembered Matsumoto Den's strange state. He changed tactics, charging without activating his Technique. His twin blades flashed toward Uehara's face.

Though prepared, Uehara was startled. Suddenly, several ink-black tentacles erupted from around him, wrapping him tightly in layers.

In a flash, the Shikigami he had summoned shattered, streams of light seeping through the cracks, revealing a surprised expression on his face.

A swift kick twisted Uehara's face further. Spinning through the air toward the wall, he was caught by tentacles extending from behind at the last moment, lessening the impact.

Despite clutching his abdomen, Uehara wore a 'just as expected' expression. "Did you fight before?"

Hajime pointed at Matsumoto's body on the ground. Uehara's face darkened but said nothing. Instead, he pulled out another talisman and summoned a towering Shikigami resembling a zombie.

As it appeared, pus-filled boils burst one by one, popping continuously as black-green liquid spread across the ground.

"Do you know Mahito? He's a humanoid Cursed Spirit," Hajime said, vibrating his sword.

In Uehara's mind, the image of the stitched-face Cursed Spirit with a smile mixing innocence and malice naturally appeared. Fear flickered in his eyes, unnoticed by himself.

"By the way, why is your sword vibrating?"

White threads enveloped Uehara, and the tentacles fell. The zombie-like Shikigami collapsed into a shapeless mass.

"You…"

Before he could finish, his vision dropped and he fell uncontrollably. His legs were neatly severed at mid-thigh, blood mixing with filth as he screamed.

"Tell me about that Cursed Spirit. If you cooperate, I'll heal you with Reverse Cursed Technique," Hajime said, looking down.

Severely injured, Uehara knew he'd met his match. This wasn't like the sorcerers he'd evaded or repelled before. He dared not release his other Shikigami meant for a sneak attack.

Memories surfaced involuntarily—the humanoid Cursed Spirit speaking human words, transforming the deranged murderer into a monster before his eyes. He himself had been injured by it.

He'd fled in fear but returned greedily, only to face this formidable opponent. Now sober, regret filled his heart.

Under the threat of death, Uehara forced himself to believe. Even if there was only one percent chance, he clung to it.

"That Cursed Spirit… has stitches on his face and body. He transformed that man into a monster, but I don't know his name… He told me to find him at a nearby hospital before…"

As he spoke, realization dawned. Hajime's gaze shifted, then Uehara felt his feet tingle—his body began swelling.

"Fa... Ugh…"

His voice became muffled, indistinct. Futile whimpers escaped as his raised hand ballooned grotesquely.

"So… I've already been affected. When did this happen?"

His consciousness spiraled into chaos; this last thought flashed before being swallowed by a violent desire to kill.

Hajime watched wide-eyed as the Curse Master transformed from human to monster, limbs and facial features distorting.

"This Technique… it really is…"

Time Wheel Spin.

Onikiri sliced through the body easily. The fragments immediately withered, vitality draining away.

After dispatching the few Shikigami and Cursed Spirits released by Uehara's death, Hajime took out his phone, snapped photos of the ground, and sent a message to Nitta Akari to handle the aftermath.

Leaving, he opened his map app, searched the nearest hospital, and headed there.

The hospital wasn't large, corridors sparsely populated. Hajime paused upon seeing someone sitting at the corridor's end.

Black clothes and pants, long blue hair braided thrice, one blue eye and one black eye. The stitches on his face and arms were unmistakable. It was the Special Grade Cursed Spirit—Mahito.

He sat "ignored" by passersby, observing hospital visitors with fascination. Hajime's arrival caught his gaze; his eyes lit up, knowing he was seen.

"Hello there." Mahito smiled innocently, almost disarming if one ignored his abnormalities.

"Did that human come? But you're not bad either, what a beautiful body. Your soul must be beautiful too—I want to feel it."

Mahito reached out, intoxicated, but a sharp pain snapped him awake. His outstretched right hand was severed at the wrist, though he hadn't seen how.

"Did you do that?"

Confused, Mahito bent down, picked up his hand, dangled it, then let it fall to dust. Flesh surged where it was severed, and a new hand grew in moments.

He flexed it, identical to the original. Hajime sat opposite, calm. That had been a warning—Mahito was special. Ordinary attacks barely harmed him; only soul-affecting powers truly damaged him.

"Are you Mahito? You were behind Matsumoto Den and Uehara Masanobu, right?" Hajime's question was assertive, despite its form.

Few people were around, but the urgency prevented evacuation. Mahito wouldn't foolishly watch Hajime kill.

Mahito's interest deepened, contemplating the unnoticed attack. He answered thoughtfully, "I suppose. I don't know those humans' names. After granting one's wish, I transformed the other casually. Are they your friends?"

Hajime chuckled softly. "No, criminals. You just stole my job."

Mahito laughed, twirling a strand of hair. "Then no thanks necessary."

"By the way, you're here to kill me, right?"

His smile deepened with malice but he didn't attack. Hajime was cautious about hostages; Mahito wary of Hajime's methods.

"That pure speed? I didn't see the attack's path or weapon. The thing on his ear must be a rare shape-shifting Cursed Spirit hiding the weapon."

Mahito regretted focusing on observing humans instead of making more "toys." Facing an opponent with invisible attacks made his toys less useful.

Still, he felt no fear. If his soul was untouchable, injuries healed instantly.

His soul must be beautiful; touching it would be exquisite.

Mahito smiled wide, eyes revealing childlike malice—a child pouring boiling water on an ant hill just to watch.

Hajime sighed, glancing both ways in the corridor. "Come with me quietly, then I'll cut you down. Exorcising you makes my Special Grade application easier."

"No, I haven't begun playing yet. But if you promise to let me touch your soul, it's possible. Otherwise, these toys will keep me entertained," Mahito said, eyes drifting to the hospital's people, bored.

Distracted, Hajime barely listened. They exchanged a few more words.

Suddenly, a loud bang erupted as a door at the corridor's right end exploded, along with a nearby surveillance camera.

Sensing danger, Mahito activated his Technique.

The scene changed instantly. Around him were groups of parked cars; above, thick concrete and lights—the underground parking lot.

Mahito licked his lips. His peripheral vision caught five figures undergoing terrifying transformations—"toys" he'd made earlier.

Under his control, the disfigured figures swayed and stumbled toward Hajime.

Tears streamed from their eyes, bodies convulsing with distorted cries for help.

"Save... save me..."

Mahito smiled wantonly. "How do you like my toys? I changed their souls with my Technique."

Hajime's face was obscured by light above. He'd destroyed the surveillance cameras; these transformed people were beyond saving.

Reversing them was futile. Too early in transformation, reverting would only prompt Mahito's Technique again. The root problem was Mahito—he had to be killed first.

Without visible movement, Hajime caused the five monsters to abruptly revert to human form, then fly backward, landing in a corner behind a wall.

He drew Totsuka-no-Tsurugi and Onikiri, with Spider Cutter impaled in the ground before him.

Mahito eyed the three swords, auras subtly intertwined. A dark premonition filled him.

Without another word, his Technique activated; he began transforming.

Hajime's voice echoed through the underground: "Are you ready to die?"

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