Location: The Forest Battle Continues
The moon now filtered through torn canopies as the forest bled in silence.
Hanami's form shifted again — vines retracting, armor of bark sealing cracked ribs and gouged joints. Its cursed energy surged, roaring like a distant thunderstorm. The trees trembled as a storm of supernatural presence gathered in its core.
Across from it, Agent 47 stood silently, dust falling from his sleeves, one eye slightly narrowed, silverballer raised. His long black coat fluttered with the breeze — threads torn, shoulder bruised, collar still razor-sharp.
Hanami paused.
Its gaze, which was part perception, part spiritual sensitivity, narrowed on 47's chest — trying to locate the source of his overwhelming energy. But there were no cursed objects on him. No amulet. No talisman. No external signature of cursed energy. Yet the presence coming off of him—
…felt familiar.
Ancient.
Rotten.
Malevolent.
Hanami's eyes widened behind the mask.
"You… Where are the fingers?"
47 didn't answer. He never did when he didn't need to. He simply stepped forward, reloading with a soft click.
But then—
[SYSTEM MESSAGE – S-RANK ABILITY TRIGGERED]
"As Host of the King of Curses, all stats increased by 200% when facing Cursed Spirits."
[Legendary Perk: King of Curses – ACTIVE]Base stats recalibrated...
Strength: 127 → 381Dexterity: 129 → 387Endurance: 115 → 345Reflexes: 141 → 423Intelligence: 108 → 324Perception: 132 → 396Stealth: 140 → 420
Hanami felt it.Like an avalanche dropped out of nowhere — pressure, suffocating and invisible. The cursed spirit braced itself as the air bent around 47's form. The leaves on trees rustled without wind, forced by the sheer intensity of presence.
And then it understood.
Hanami (realization):"You consumed them…"
47's hand flexed, and a new short-blade materialized — dark like obsidian, veined with blood-red lines. Its shape was unnatural — something not forged by mortals. A reflection of the curse dwelling within.
Hanami growled.
"How are you alive?"
47 tilted his head slightly.
"Mental integrity. Yours fractured. Mine doesn't."
Hanami surged forward, forming a wall of thorns that fired like a storm of javelins.
47 moved with inhuman speed. Not flashy — efficient. He dodged at the last second, weaving through them like a machine that had seen this outcome a thousand times.
Two knives — summoned in the air.He caught both mid-spin.
He jumped, flipped forward, and kicked Hanami's face mid-air, flipping again before hurling both blades — one into the jaw, the other into the shoulder.
Hanami stumbled—
—but 47 was already behind it, summoning a new cleaver that sliced into the back of its knee. Crack. Hanami roared and dropped one leg.
A palm strike to the spine.A snap elbow to the side of the skull.A silverballer shot straight into the shoulder socket.All movements surgical.
47 moved with no anger, no emotion — only calculations. Hanami's body was nothing but problems to be solved.
ON A NEARBY RIDGE – GOJO'S TEAM
Itadori:
"Did he just… teleport? No, that was raw speed—"
Nobara:
"I blinked and he was BEHIND Hanami!"
Megumi (staring, pale):
"No cursed energy technique… no domain… just… that."
Gojo:(grim)
"That's Sukuna's energy. But it's not Sukuna."
He paused.
"He ate the fingers… all of them. But there's no split personality. No change. He's still him. That's terrifying."
BACK TO THE FOREST
Hanami, panting, vines torn and body leaking cursed sap, summoned one final defensive mechanism — a cursed pollen bloom meant to blind and paralyze anyone not immune to natural neurotoxins.
But 47 didn't breathe it in.
Instead — he leapt straight into the heart of it.
As Hanami raised an arm, 47 materialized a curved hook-scythe, slid beneath the swing, latched the blade behind Hanami's leg, and yanked hard — the cursed spirit crashed forward.
Another pistol shot fired — this time, through the eye, at point-blank.
Hanami writhed, staggered, dropped to one knee—
"YOU'RE A MONSTER!"
47 leaned in slightly, face calm and blood-specked.
"Correct."
He raised his silverballer.