{System Unlocked!
Welcome back, King of Curses!}
The voice was foreign—mechanical, emotionless—and it echoed directly inside his skull.
Jason groaned as a sharp pain twisted through his head, disorienting him. His eyes fluttered open.
The world that greeted him was disgusting.
He lay in a filthy alleyway, surrounded by the stench of piss, vomit, and rotting trash. The concrete beneath him was slick with something wet—he didn't want to know what.
'What the fuck?'
He scrambled to his feet, leaning against a rusted garbage dumpster for support. His vision spun briefly before settling. The cold bit into his skin.
"Where the hell am I?" he muttered. "Did I drink too much last night? I could've sworn I was in my dorm room..."
That's when it happened.
A blue screen—floating in midair—appeared right in front of his face.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" he shouted, stumbling back.
Words scrolled across it like some kind of twisted RPG HUD.
King of Curses?... Sukuna? What is this...?
{Ding... Ding... Ding...Yes indeed!
Host is the new King of Curses—in this new world!}
The voice again, calm and robotic, spoke from inside his mind.
Jason clutched at his temples. "Am I going crazy? What the hell is going on?!"
A sudden voice cut through the alley's silence.
"Hey guys! Come check this out… looks like we got a rich boy over here."
Jason turned sharply. Three figures stepped out of the darkness, rough silhouettes in the dim alleyway light. Their voices reeked of bad intentions.
"Hey, big guy... that's a real nice suit you're wearing," one sneered.
Jason blinked, glancing down. Sure enough, he was wearing a sharp black suit—tailored, expensive, and definitely not what he'd gone to sleep in.
The man grinned and flicked open a switchblade.
"Why don't you empty your pockets for us?"
Jason raised his hands slowly, trying to keep calm. "Hey, I don't want any trouble, okay? I don't have any money, and my phone's crap. You'd probably pity me more than rob me. So let's just—can we not?"
The leader chuckled darkly.
"Oh yeah? Not feeling generous tonight? Maybe we'll just take that fancy outfit off your hands instead. You don't mind, do you?"
Jason frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
"TAKE YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES OFF, MOTHERFUCKER!"
The scream came with violent intent. Jason recoiled as the thug lunged. Instinct took over.
He turned to run—but too late. One of the men grabbed him, swinging a fist toward his face.
Jason ducked—perfectly.
"The fuck?" the man muttered, stunned.
He tried again. Another dodge.
This time, he slashed forward with the knife, aiming for Jason's gut—but Jason's body moved on its own.
A sharp motion—fluid, precise. He twisted the man's wrist, reversed the motion—and in a blink, the knife plunged into the attacker's neck.
The thug gurgled and collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.
Jason stared, wide-eyed, hands trembling. "What... the fuck… I just—"
"MIKE?!"
"YOU CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER!"
The two remaining thugs charged, one with a bat, the other with a second knife.
Jason dodged again—too smoothly, like he'd trained for years.
The bat swung hard—he caught it with one forearm, stopping it cold. The impact cracked the bone of the thug's wrist. Jason drove a savage kick into the man's ribs, sending him flying into the alley wall with a sickening CRACK. Blood smeared the brick as the man collapsed.
'Second kill...' Jason thought, disturbingly calm.
The final thug trembled, backing away. "You... you monster... DIE!"
He pulled a pistol.
The shot fired. Jason moved like lightning.
In an instant, he was face to face with the man, hand gripping the barrel.
A sickening crunch followed. The gun—and the man's hand—shattered under Jason's grip.
His eyes widened. His fingernails were pitch black.
Jason grabbed the man by the throat—and with a savage growl, ripped it clean out.
Blood sprayed. The body crumpled.
"Third kill," Jason said, voice cold and hollow.
{CONGRATULATIONS!
Mission Completed: "The King of Curses Draws Blood!"
You have gained: 3 Souls!}
He blinked. "Three souls...? What the hell does that mean?"
{Host must check his Stats to understand.}
"...Stats?"
Jason narrowed his eyes as the massive glowing status window floated in front of him, illuminating the dark alley with a faint blue light.
{
Name: Jason Lucas Anderson
Title: King of Curses | Sukuna's Reincarnation
Race: Human (Modified)
Level: 1
Souls Collected: 3
Next Level: 1 Soul
Fingers Absorbed: 1/20
Corruption Level: 4%
Occupation: Anderson Family Successor
[Core Stats]
Power: 18
Stamina: 16
Endurance: 22
Cursed Energy: 35
Control: 14
Charm: 11
Willpower: 28
[Abilities]
Cursed Tool Mastery – Unlocked
Cursed Healing – Passive Regeneration
Inherited Technique – Locked
Domain Expansion – Locked
}
Jason exhaled slowly. "So… this King of Curses crap is real…" he muttered, his gaze flicking to the bloodied bodies behind him. "Jujutsu Kaisen… I recognize this system. It's from that anime. So that means... I somehow got his powers."
He looked down at his hands. Steady. Calm. Unshaken, despite the bodies.
"I murdered them. Cold blood. But…" he hesitated, frowning. "Why does it feel so… normal?"
His eyes lingered on the part that said:
Sukuna's Reincarnation.
"Am I like Yuji then?" he whispered. "Is Sukuna inside me?"
Jason closed his eyes and focused, searching for a presence inside him. Nothing. No voice. No mocking grin. Just… silence.
"...No. Not inside me."
He turned his gaze to a puddle by the side of the alley. He stepped closer and knelt, peering at the reflection staring back at him—and froze.
He didn't look like himself anymore.
His once youthful face was sharper, his jaw more defined. His eyes were a piercing crimson, with subtle black markings near the lower lids—like faint tattoos. His hair had grown longer and messier, jet-black with hints of crimson highlights under the light. His body was lean but built, like someone trained for war.
A more human version of Ryomen Sukuna—but no less terrifying.
Jason narrowed his gaze. "I am Sukuna…"
He raised his hands and smirked. "Glad I still have just two of these though."
He turned back to the screen. "Alright. Power's 18… Stamina 16. Cool numbers, but how strong am I really?"
{Core Stats of an Average Peak Human:
Power: 12
Stamina: 15
Endurance: 12
Cursed Energy: 5
Control: 0
Charm: 12
Willpower: 12
}
Jason raised an eyebrow. "So… I'm already above peak human. And cursed energy? I'm loaded compared to the average." He nodded in approval. "Not bad."
But before he could admire his stats any longer, a firm voice cut through the silence.
"Mr. Anderson… I thought your father told you to restrain your nightly drinking."
Jason turned quickly, caught off guard. A woman stepped from the shadows. Tall. Sharp. Deadly. She wore a tailored black suit, her raven-black hair tied in a tight bun. Her face was stunning, but her eyes were what caught his attention—cold, calculating, and focused.
She glanced at the bodies around him, barely flinching. "Looks like you've been busy," she said flatly. "Didn't think you had it in you to get your hands dirty. This is new."
Jason blinked. "Wait—who the hell are you?"
She sighed, clearly annoyed. "Jason, please. The theatrics aren't necessary right now. Your father's already upset you missed the meeting. Though I suppose killing three thugs singlehandedly will earn you some points."
She turned on her heel. "We need to leave before the Caped Crusader shows up and ruins the night."
Jason walked quickly behind her, trying to keep up. "Caped Crusader? What are you talking about—?"
She glanced over her shoulder. "Batman, Jason. Gotham's unofficial king."
Jason's eyes widened slightly. Gotham?
"Look, lady, I really don't know who you are, or what the hell is going on—"
She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "Jason Anderson. You're the only heir to the Anderson family empire. I'm Nia. Your new bodyguard. You were assigned to me last week after the last incident."
She gestured toward the alley's exit. "Now, stop screwing around. The car's waiting."
Jason followed in silence, thoughts racing.
'Sukuna's reincarnation… Gotham… Batman... Anderson family…Things have gotten...Quite hectic'