Jujutsu Kaisen: Cursed Times

Time Wheel – Spin.

Shingen Genichi kicked open the wooden door, splinters scattering as he surged down the corridor. Suspended fragments of dust floated in his wake like frozen sparks. The screams ahead had already faded, but the density of Cursed Energy only grew heavier—viscous and sharp, like standing too close to a live wire.

He burst through another door—this time with the full force of his body—and came face to face with a grotesque tableau.

A man covered in elaborate tattoos knelt beside two motionless bodies. Blood pooled at his knees, and his expression was a twisted blend of fear and ecstasy. His trembling hands clutched a short ceremonial knife, red from tip to hilt.

Opposite him was the true horror—a Cursed Spirit, massive and monstrous, hunched in the room's corner like a collapsed statue made of flesh.

Its entire body resembled a warped, square dice—six sides, each layered with chaotic eyes that blinked independently, twitching and shuddering as if uncertain which direction to stare. From its front side bulged a grotesque single eye—vertically slit like an insect's, its black-red pupil glowing faintly like a bloodstone. Its body lacked legs, supported instead by two massive humanoid arms sprouting from either side, propping it up like a crawling beast.

Its underside gaped open, revealing a toothless maw. Bits of unidentifiable flesh and clothing dripped from its lipless mouth. Half a human corpse dangled from it like a forgotten meal, and streaks of blood remained frozen in midair, suspended unnaturally as if time had stopped to admire the horror.

Shingen's eyes narrowed.

Without hesitation, he released his active Technique and redirected the Reverse Cursed Technique—not to himself, but to the victims.

Time Wheel – Reverse.

His goal: revive the recently slain.

As his Cursed Energy spiraled out, he met resistance—thick, like swimming through oil. The Curse's presence—Special Grade—formed a wall that pushed back against the restoration. Three of the souls were still partially inside the Curse's body, and even for someone like Shingen, who wielded both skill and power, this was an uphill battle.

His nose bled.

A warm stream slid across his upper lip, it's likely his brain getting overcooked —snap. Suddenly his Technique wforcibly interrupted.

"Okay, that's hurt "

Still, it was enough. He sure will never do this kind of thing again, getting your techniques overworked to the point frying your brain is not a good thing.

Four of the five victims—three women and a man—awoke with choked screams, their eyes darting wildly, minds torn between disbelief and primal terror.

The tattooed man turned.

He blinked at the people who should've been dead. They were writhing in confusion and panic, now conscious again.

"Wh-what the hell?!"

His gaze dropped to the bloody knife in his hand, then shot up toward the red-haired intruder now wiping blood from his nose.

"You!" the man roared. "You ruined the sacrifice to the High God! You… you'll be the offering now!"

Blade raised, he charged.

Shingen Genichi didn't flinch. His gaze was still locked on the Cursed Spirit, which had started twitching, reacting to him. The Curse's dozens of eyes jittered and twisted toward him in erratic unison.

The moment the man reached within striking distance, Shingen's leg blurred.

Crack—

One flying kick sent the man hurtling across the room, slamming into the far wall with a thud that shook the foundation. Blood erupted from his mouth like a red mist. He didn't die—but wouldn't be getting up again soon.

"Genichi-kun"

Nanami Kento arrived through the shattered door, sword already half drawn. The oppressive aura hit him instantly—a Cursed Spirit of no ordinary level.

Shingen didn't turn. "Nanami-senpai, please evacuate the victims. I'll handle this."

Nanami quickly assessed the situation. He moved without hesitation, grabbing one of the women and shouting at the others, "Move! Follow me!"

Behind him, Shingen stepped forward.

Time Wheel – Spin.

Godspeed Slash.

The cursed blade in his hand became a blur—arcs of light slashing through air and flesh. The Cursed Spirit screamed, its bloated cube-body sliced into dozens of ragged gashes. Black blood sprayed like a fountain, coating Genichi's upper body.

But his sword couldn't handle the strain. The cursed blade shattered in his grip, unable to withstand the overload of energy and rapid attacks.

The dice-shaped Cursed Spirit shrieked again. Its central eye pulsed with black-gray light. A beam of energy—thick as a tree trunk—burst forward like a lightning lance, tearing across the room and filling the air with scorched ozone.

Too slow.

Genichi had already vanished.

The Cursed Spirit's dozens of eyes jerked backward—and saw a fist descending.

Black Flash.

Then another.

Black Flash – Double.

Crackling, chaotic energy exploded across the Curse's eye. The surface burst like a rotted melon, ichor splattering in every direction.

But Genichi wasn't done.

Time Wheel – Reverse.

He reinforced himself again, ignoring the pain now chewing at his brainstem.

Black Flash – Triple.

He dove with a roar, his fist cloaked in blackened light, sinking into the eye socket like a piledriver. The impact tore through what was left of the organ and erupted through the other side.

The Curse's massive form flew backward, crashing through the wall like a cannonball, a tidal wave of blood and bone following in its wake.

Genichi stood panting, soaked in black-red fluid. His fists still crackled with residual force.

Behind him, the tattooed man trembled.

He looked at the monster that had just been obliterated and muttered in disbelief, "Th-that… was the High God? I saw the High God… with my own eyes…"

But his awe was short-lived.

A looming shadow fell over him.

He looked up—and saw Shingen Genichi, drenched in blood, dark red hair clinging to his skin like a demon from hell.

The man whimpered, "Demon…"

Shingen grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outside, following the trail of destruction.

The Cursed Spirit was already crawling out of the debris. Its body reknit rapidly, the once-destroyed eye beginning to take shape again.

It should have been impossible.

"Regeneration… accelerating?" Genichi muttered.

Nanami caught up beside him.

"It's feeding off fear," he said flatly.

Shingen glanced at the unconscious man in his grip. Earlier, his face had been twisted in terror. Now, it looked serene—almost reverent.

Nanami added, "Its Technique likely absorbs existing fear to strengthen itself. It's not just passively fueled by negative emotion—it actively feeds."

Shingen's brows knit.

That meant the longer it existed around victims or survivors, the stronger it grew. A snowball effect. Already a Special Grade—it could become even worse.

That explained its monstrous evolution.

He kicked the tattooed man toward the Curse.

The beast didn't hesitate—it reached out with one massive hand and crushed him like wet paper.

Nanami said nothing. Even if the man hadn't been a Curse User, he had facilitated sacrifices. Jujutsu Law prohibited killing civilians—but Cursed Spirits had no such restrictions.

"Senior, please don't intervene," Shingen said.

"The leader's still hiding on the rooftop, and there are survivors in the building. If we fight here, this Curse will keep growing. I'll draw it away."

Nanami nodded.

The Cursed Spirit, now visibly healed, roared and lunged again. Its dozens of eyes pulsed. A barrage of energy beams tore across the walls, carving deep craters where people had been moments ago.

Genichi moved.

Time Wheel – Spin.

His figure blurred.

In the blink of an eye, he was gone—along with the Curse. Only a gaping hole in the wall remained, leading out into the forest.

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Sorry for late update, just got home from work, anyway thankyou for your understanding.

Word Count:1,253