Bale admitted it frankly, which surprised Akira a bit.

  “Looking at your outfits, I thought you cared a lot about pride.”

  “Do you think we would?” Kron pointed at his own face, wrapped so tightly that not a gap showed. “Ten years ago, my face was gone. All of this was thanks to Tokyo Jujutsu High. I swear I’ll take it back tenfold, a hundredfold.”

  “You can’t beat the real culprit, so you target others instead. Your way of getting even is really Makotoly ‘super doubled.’”

  “Because we’re villains,” Bale said without shame. “Let’s set a rule. If you cry and beg me for mercy, I’ll spare your life.”

  “Truly villain talk.”

  “No, those were Satoru Gojo’s exact words to me ten years ago. I’m just returning them as they were.”

  Bale’s answer made Akira’s expression stiffen. Gojo the demon king, you really did this to him.

  As the demon king’s student, he could not fall behind either. “In that case, I’ll return them as well. If you cry and beg me for mercy, I’ll spare your lives.”

  Bale and Kron burst out laughing, laughing so hard they held their stomachs.

  “Did you hear that, Kron?”

  “I heard it, Bale.”

  “Are young people these days all this arrogant? The glory of my Showa era is truly gone.”

  “Now I finally understand why you parted ways with that Grade One Jujutsu Sorcerer. Stupid beyond saving.”

  “Let us teach you reality in place of that irresponsible teacher. After seeing this, can you still be so confident?”

  Bale slowly raised his right hand. One rifle after another flew out from behind him and lined up neatly in front of Akira. The next second, gunfire erupted.

  Akira drew his sword at the fastest speed he could manage. The moment he sensed a sniper, he was already on guard, keeping his nerves tight even while talking. A flash of steel cut through the air, and every bullet was knocked aside.

  “Not bad. Looks like you do have some skill. But what about this?”

  Bale showed little change in expression. Blocking bullets with a sword was nothing special, and many Jujutsu Sorcerer who focused on close combat could do the same. Blocking did not mean the body could take bullets head-on.

  Four rifles firing together might be manageable, but what about five, six, seven, or eight? And what if it was not only rifles? With another lift of his hand, the number of rifles doubled, and a shotgun joined them.

  The pressure on Akira spiked at once. He stopped relying only on his sword and mixed in prediction and footwork, barely holding through the new wave of fire. Even so, it was clear he was being pushed back step by step.

  At that moment, the number of weapons under Bale’s control doubled again, reaching sixteen. At the same time, he used “Revealing One's Hand”: “My technique lets me control weapons at a distance. Blades work, and firearms work too. Confident boy, how many rounds do you think you can last? My promise still stands.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Funny enough, my promise is the same. You are not the only one with ranged attacks.”

  While speaking, Akira forced his way through the third combined volley, the output of Cursed Energy in his body surging. Using the effect of Cursed Tools, he swung out a Crescent Blade Wave and destroyed the most dangerous piece in the formation, the shotgun.

  Right after that, Akira burst forward at full speed. He slipped through the gaps between the weapons faster than their aim could adjust and launched a direct charge at Bale. The distance closed in an instant.

  Just as he was about to reach Bale, his footing suddenly slipped. His center of gravity shifted too fast, his body lost balance, and he tumbled across the ground before scrambling back up, looking awkward and messy.

  Compared to having his legs blown off, this outcome was far better. During the charge, Akira had sensed an abnormal gathering of Cursed Energy beneath his feet and dodged at the last second. If he had been even a step slower, the best result would have been losing one leg, and the worst would have been losing three.

  The Cursed Energy released by the explosion was different from the Cursed Energy used to control weapons. This was the Jujutsu of another core member of Q Curse User Organization, Kron. Meeting Akira’s gaze, Kron also used “Revealing One's Hand”.

  “My Jujutsu is not as impressive as Mr. Bale’s. I just inject Cursed Energy to make bombs. Go ahead and guess how many bombs are around you. Five, ten, twenty? You have nowhere to run.”

  To prove his point, Kron snapped his fingers. The ground less than three meters from Akira exploded, and chunks of concrete flew up and struck his face.

  Akira did not flinch. “I guess there was only one, the one you just set off.”

  Kron froze for a moment, confirming the guess. “You got it right?”

  “How did you know?” Kron’s voice dropped.

  “Because your bombs are made of Cursed Energy. If you really covered the area with mines, would your reserves be enough?”

  Jujutsu came in different types. Some were direct attack types with high power and heavy consumption, and Kron’s technique fell into that category. Others focused on control, used far less energy, and depended on the object being manipulated, with Bale’s weapon control as the classic example.

  Because firearms were numerous and powerful, they posed a huge threat. If they were replaced with blades, the danger would drop sharply. Incidentally, when he had been easily defeated by Satoru Gojo years ago, part of the reason was that he had only carried a knife for convenience and no guns.

  Give him enough firepower, and aside from beings on the level of Special Grade, most Jujutsu Sorcerer could be killed. With his weakness exposed, Kron fell silent for a few seconds before speaking again.

  “I admit it, you are smart and talented. That is exactly why we will not let you go. The rule we placed on the barrier is that Jujutsu Sorcerer are forbidden to enter or leave, so escaping or calling other Jujutsu Sorcerer for help is impossible. Letting prey slip away will not happen a second time.”

  He was clearly referring to the incident of a third-year escaping, which also showed how deep the Gojo faction’s talent pool was. “Is that so?” Akira asked plainly, without much finesse.

  Kron was about to mock him for being scared out of his mind when he heard Bale shout, “Watch out.”

  A rush of force came from behind. Kron reacted on instinct and dove forward, narrowly avoiding a surprise attack from the rear. Bale immediately swung his guns around and fired, but the attacker deflected everything with ease.

  Only then did the attacker answer Akira’s question. “Yes, that is how it works.”

  The newcomer had blond hair, a white suit, black Sunglasses, and held a blunt blade wrapped in white cursed cloth. His voice was deep and steady, and his manner calm and confident.

  “Se-seven, Kento Nanami!” Kron stared in disbelief as he climbed back up. “Y-you, how did you get in here? The barrier-”

  “The barrier has been working just fine. Sorcerers outside cannot get in, and those inside cannot get out. I was already inside, so there was no need to enter.”

  The barrier’s rules did not distinguish between friend and foe, and Kento Nanami did not rush to attack. “I see. Drinking with the supervisor from Tokyo Jujutsu High and everything before that was just a cover.”

  Bale was completely right. They did go to the bar, but only stayed briefly before leaving through the back door, borrowing the owner’s car and heading straight to the meeting point agreed on with Akira. The bar had been chosen by Kento Nanami to avoid surveillance and mislead their enemies.

  When the gunfire started, Kento Nanami rushed over from nearby. Everything had gone according to Akira’s plan, except for one thing. “Sorry, Akira, my technique is not suited for sneak attacks.”

  “It is fine. They are not getting away anyway.”