As long as the conflict remained and Satoru Gojo refused to cross the line of mutual destruction, incidents like this would happen again and again. This time it was the third-years, next it could be second-years or first-years. Satoru Gojo could not split himself to protect the students at all times.

  To prevent the conservatives from pushing further and for the sake of future safety, this mission not only had to succeed, it had to succeed beautifully. They had to make the conservatives understand that it was not only Satoru Gojo they could not provoke.

  The revived ashes of "Curse User Organization Q" would be used as the leverage.

  No one knew exactly where Satoru Gojo stood among the higher levels, but since Akira was here, there was no room for people unfit for their positions to act recklessly.

  Intelligence showed that aside from the one base already destroyed, Q Curse User Organization still had two more bases in Tokyo. Normally, once startled, a snake would quickly relocate.

  But after putting on such a show of "going separate ways," the snake might do the opposite, opening its mouth wide and waiting for prey to walk in.

  At this moment, Akira stood in front of the base closest to Nanami’s apartment building. This base was larger than the first one, and according to Gardevoir’s perception, there were more people inside.

  None of that mattered. What mattered was the clear fluctuation of Cursed Energy within.

  Not even bothering to hide it anymore? Then I will not either.

  Akira grinned. He lifted his leg, kicked the door open, and charged in one smooth motion.

  "Open up, water meter inspection!"

  The classic Japanese exclamation had only gotten halfway out when the person closest to the door was already knocked down.

  Akira did not slow his steps and struck anyone he saw. Thanks to the over-the-top outfits of Q Curse User Organization, there was no need to worry about hitting the wrong person. He used the boxing style he had been training these past few days.

  Because he did not need to attend classes and had no other assignments, Akira had thrown punches more than ten thousand times. Coordination between Cursed Energy and his body had become instinctive, without any need for conscious thought. As soon as his body moved, Cursed Energy naturally followed.

  Every lift of his hand and every step carried tremendous force. Anything in his path, whether person or object, had only one outcome, being sent flying. In the blink of an eye, the not-small Hideout was smashed to pieces, and more than a dozen outer members lay on the ground, their condition unknown, without even drawing their guns.

  One of the requirements for Black Flash was total focus and full commitment, and in this state, Akira was far beyond what ordinary people could react to. The only one who avoided disaster was a Curse User. This was also the most practical method Akira had come up with to tell a Jujutsu Sorcerer apart, the so-called Jo-style identification.

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  The overly violent approach made the remaining enemy abandon any plan of using Revealing One's Hand and silently release Jujutsu. What appeared was a mass of Purple Mist.

  Akira did not rush in blindly. Instead, he carefully grabbed a grunt and threw him into it. The instant the body touched the mist, the clothes and exposed skin showed obvious corrosion.

  “An acid mist type ability?” Akira judged.

  “That’s right, my Jujutsu is called—”

  The Curse User thought he had found his chance to unfold a proper Jujutsu battle, never expecting the other side to be a non-mainstream Jujutsu Sorcerer without Jujutsu. Before he could finish speaking, Akira grabbed two more lackeys and hurled them over with such force that it looked like he meant to smash them to death.

  An absurd feeling rose in the Curse User’s heart. Which one of us is the Curse User here? How are you more ruthless and experienced at killing than I am? Weren’t the so-called righteous types supposed to care about lives?

  Of course, that ruthlessness was relative. The Curse User himself did not care about his companions’ lives, or rather, he never considered those who were not Jujutsu Sorcerer to be companions at all. Whether they died from the fall or were corroded by Jujutsu made no difference.

  The biggest advantage of his Jujutsu was its long duration and low consumption. Even if everyone in the Hideout was corroded into sludge, it would not be a problem. Then he realized something was wrong.

  Akira’s goal was not simply throwing people or wearing him down. He was using heavy throws to create openings. After dodging the second “flying body” and seeing the third one coming, the Curse User finally understood, but by then it was too late.

  The third throw was done with full force. The ton-level power combined with human mass created a burst of wind pressure that pushed the corrosive mist to both sides. It lasted only an instant, but it was enough for Akira to slip through.

  One punch landed. Then another.

  The outplayed Curse User took a punch to the jaw, one of the more fragile parts of the human body and a decisive spot in boxing. With Akira’s strength, a concussion was the minimum, and whether he became a fool afterward depended on luck.

  After landing the hit, Akira did not hesitate and pushed forward with the momentum, breaking straight through the corrosive mist. Without Revealing One's Hand, he could not be sure whether the other side’s Jujutsu would disappear if the caster lost consciousness. Considering the nature of the mist, he did not stay inside the Hideout and instead carried the Curse User outside.

  He tossed the Curse User onto the ground and reached out to pat his face, but after two pats he stopped and muttered to himself. “I almost forgot, there might be a curse inside him too. To be safe, I should go back to Tokyo Jujutsu High and have Miss Ieiri take a look. I can also report certain people’s inaction to Gojo-sensei.”

  Just as Akira took out his phone, his expression changed and he retreated quickly. Almost at the same time, a loud bang sounded as a nearby wall burst open, scattering debris.

  “Sniper?”

  Akira crossed his steps and moved in a zigzag into the shadows beyond the reach of the lights. At that moment, a dull yellow hue spread across the sky and descended like a dome. Someone had deployed a barrier.

  As the barrier fell, two figures in white military uniforms with cloaks appeared in the night. One stood in front and the other behind, neatly blocking Akira’s path forward and back.

  The enemy was prepared, so Akira stopped hiding. He pulled open the cloth bundle on his back and walked out calmly. “So that’s how it is. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. I walked right into it. If I’m not wrong, you’re the core of Q Curse User Organization—”

  “The strongest combatant of Curse User Organization, Bale.” The man in front spoke as his long hair fluttered.

  “The coordinator of Curse User Organization, Kron.” The man behind let out a gloomy laugh.

  Honestly, introducing themselves like this would be awkward in real life, but paired with their dramatic outfits, it somehow fit.

  “Doesn’t the strongest usually go pick a fight with the strongest? Why come after me?” Akira asked very Makotoly, posing an extremely irritating question.

  “Because we’re still a little short compared to your side’s ‘strongest.’”