Chapter Ten 8:30

October 31st, exactly 8:00 PM.

Jogo, Hanami, Dagon, and Choso emerged from the tea restaurant, heading toward the Hanzomon subway station. Geto Suguru followed, draped in his familiar Buddhist monk robes, his eyes narrowed into a faint, lingering smile. Save for the faint, distinct scar running across his forehead, he appeared entirely human.

Behind him, the four special-grade cursed spirits walked in tandem; although ordinary passersby could not see them, they instinctively steered clear of the group.

"That guy Mahito, he always likes to act alone... Hey, am I really expected to hold off Satoru Gojo for twenty minutes?" The one-eyed, volcano-headed spirit—Jogo, the strongest of the four—rubbed his pale arms, confirming with Geto, still visibly shaken.

Before the arrival of the players, Jogo had clashed with Satoru Gojo, the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcerers. The result had been a crushing defeat. By that lakeshore, the arrogant Jogo had nearly met his end at Gojo's hands, going so far as to have his head ripped clean off.

"Relax. Hanami will be with you, and Choso should be able to lend a hand as well," Geto said with a dismissive wave, signaling Jogo to remain calm.

"Then you’d better seal him quickly... I don't ever want to see that Gojo guy again!" Jogo’s large eyes were filled with resentment. If the players knew that the supposedly invincible Jogo was this terrified of Gojo, their jaws would surely hit the floor.

The four boarded the elevator, descending deep underground. As Geto’s preparations took effect, a massive "Veil" descended, shrouding the entire Hanzomon station. A Veil is a specialized barrier used to conceal cursed techniques and partition off a battlefield, granting the effect of invisibility.

With the Veil set, the Jujutsu High sorcerers would soon catch on. As luck would have it, the maintainer for the Tokyo district was none other than Satoru Gojo. It stood to reason that the "main course" would arrive shortly, and waiting for him would be...

Geto sat on a metal bench in the station with his arms crossed, casually placing the Prison Realm on the ground. The Prison Realm was known as the strongest sealing cursed tool; by any means necessary, as long as one could keep the target within its effective range for one minute, the victim—no matter how powerful—would be locked away inside.

However, just then, Geto caught the sound of something unusual.

"Hahaha! Big Gold, Big Red, I’m finally here!"
"Touch it again and I’ll kill you!"
"Why do you all believe what that weirdo said?"
"If you don't believe it, then why are you even here?"

The cacophony of voices flooded Geto’s mind. He frowned, turning his gaze toward the elevator he had just descended from.

He wished he hadn't looked. Even the experienced and worldly Geto was stunned. A motley crew of cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers was pouring out of the elevator, entering the station in a disorganized but highly efficient swarm. They were packed together, yet no fighting broke out. At the top of the subway entrance, some sorcerers were even directing traffic, preventing ordinary people from using the elevators.

At a glance, there had to be seventy or eighty cursed spirits and forty or fifty sorcerers coming down. Since when did Shibuya become a gathering spot for so many of them? And even more absurdly, weren't sorcerers supposed to be the ones who exorcise cursed spirits? Were these guys not from Jujutsu High?

Geto felt his common sense unraveling. Veins pulsed on his forehead as he glared fiercely at the first wave of players entering the station.

"Oh my god, Big Gold! It's Big Gold!"

The fastest player, "Rainy Night Umbrella," maneuvered a spindly, stick-thin cursed spirit to the front, spotting the Prison Realm lying on the ground at the same time he saw Geto. In the players' view, the Prison Realm radiated an unstoppable golden glow, signaling that the item itself was worth millions. Whoever could carry it away would turn a profit of ten or twenty times their initial investment for this dungeon run.

The players went completely berserk. The cursed spirits emitted shrieks beyond human comprehension, while the sorcerers scrambled and shoved, vying to get close to the Prison Realm. Chen Lai hadn't lied to them—a major event was definitely going to erupt on the Hanzomon line in Shibuya tonight.

The Deep Sea Forum was already flooded with photos of the Prison Realm and estimates of its value within the Deep Sea game. Every player, even those who had previously dismissed Chen Lai’s "8:30 prophecy," was forced to admit that the "Major Event" was truly upon them. The Prison Realm was only the beginning. Countless penguins emerged from other whirlpools, too impatient to shake the water from their bodies before diving headlong into the "Shibuya Incident" whirlpool.

Looting, looting! The dream of overnight riches! An event destined to bring utter chaos!

"Croak, being able to witness such a major event is worth dying for!" One sorcerer, running in "Peace Mode," wasn't participating in the scramble. He had entered the dungeon at the five-thousand-combat-power threshold just to record the history of this event. He had purchased a specialized "Lens Technique" to livestream and document every scene unfolding before him. He watched as countless players unleashed a wild variety of abilities, charging toward the shimmering gold Prison Realm on the floor, his lens faithfully capturing every thrilling moment.

"I’m sorry, but this isn't for you."

Just as "Rainy Night Umbrella’s" thin, long hand was about to touch the Prison Realm, a black cloth shoe stepped down on him. Only then did the players notice Geto, who had been sitting right next to the artifact all along, his presence so low it had gone unnoticed.

"Kill him!"

"Rainy Night Umbrella" glared with murderous intent, though it was unclear who had shouted the command first. To stand in the way of a man’s fortune was akin to killing his parents—and for the profit-obsessed, death-defying players of Deep Sea, this was doubly true.

The next instant, techniques formed from cursed energy erupted in the narrow space. Every player focused their spearhead on Geto. A chaotic spectrum of light illuminated the station so brightly that even the ordinary passengers, though unable to see the cursed energy, felt an inexplicable sense of dread.

Yet, facing these techniques head-on, Geto remained unhurried. He reached out from his monk robes, his large, bony hand raised, palm facing forward.

"Cursed Spirit Manipulation: Rainbow Dragon."

A five-clawed dragon with bristling mane and emerald eyes surged from behind Geto, sweeping across the space like a descending demon god. In the anime, few could withstand this move; Satoru Gojo and Toji Fushiguro had seen it, but they were the absolute peak of special grades. As for the players, most were just "rats" who had scraped their way into the dungeon; even if their spirits were somewhat durable, they were at best equivalent to second-grade sorcerers.

Against the Rainbow Dragon, they were destined for slaughter.

"Gulp." The player managing the Lens Technique swallowed hard and took two steps back. The first wave of spirits and sorcerers had been wiped out instantly. The commotion they created had terrified the passengers remaining in the station.

In a foul mood, Geto walked forward, picking up the cursed spirit orbs dropped by the players one by one and stuffing them into his robes. Since the chaos had already been manufactured, there was no need to wait any longer.

"Satoru Gojo. He’s here."

Jogo’s voice transmitted through the cursed insect on his ear. Ignoring the countless fallen players, Geto picked up the Prison Realm and retreated deeper into the subway station.