Jujutsu Kaisen: Tragedy Life Simulator-Chapter 109 - Don’t Make Me Laugh [bonus]

Geto’s brows lifted a little, surprised for maybe half a second. Then the look vanished, and he slipped right back into that calm, polished honor-student expression he wore like it had been glued on.

He ran through the logic in his head fast.

Compared to Gojo, who treated every spar like a natural disaster, and Shoko, whose combat value was basically "please don’t die before I heal you," he really was the best choice here. Cursed Spirit Manipulation gave him control, range, flexibility, all of it. If Hayase was supposed to be a beginner, then Geto was the safest and most reasonable sparring partner.

The conclusion was obvious.

Geto smiled. "Works for me. Let’s do it outside, though. If we wreck the indoor court, Yaga-sensei’s going to murder us."

Hayase nodded once.

The three of them left the stuffy gym and headed out into the training field.

During the walk, Hayase never stopped running Phantom Night Parade under the surface. Quietly, carefully, he sent a deep scan through Geto’s cursed energy system.

The result came back clean.

No weirdness. No hidden extra layer. No ugly surprise tucked away where it shouldn’t be.

This was the same Geto as the untouched timeline, the version from before everything went to hell. One Innate Technique only: Cursed Spirit Manipulation.

Nothing like the abomination from the cemetery fight, that twisted thing wearing Geto’s body with three separate Innate Techniques stuffed inside it like stolen parts.

That alone was enough to rule this era’s Geto out as the mastermind. Completely.

Still, Hayase wanted the live test. And honestly, he had another reason for wanting this spar too.

They stopped in the middle of the field.

Hayase looked at him. "Geto, ready?"

Geto stood there with one hand in his pocket. With the other, he gave a lazy little go-ahead gesture, like some annoyingly elegant host welcoming a guest into his garden.

"Ready. Since this is just a guided spar to check how your technique’s progressing, I won’t use anything too serious. We’ll start simple..."

While he was talking, he was already sorting through his cursed spirit stockpile in his head. He planned to send out something light first. Grade 4, maybe Grade 3. Just enough to test Hayase without putting real pressure on him.

That choice said a lot by itself.

Geto didn’t think Hayase was on his level. Not remotely.

It wasn’t arrogance. It was just the obvious read. Other than Hayase’s flashy technique and the recent jump in cursed energy, there was nothing about him that screamed threat. His physical ability, his cursed energy output, his general combat presence, none of it matched a Special Grade sorcerer.

So Geto did what any experienced upperclassman would do against a newbie.

He held back.

Then, right as he moved to release a spirit, his expression locked up.

Cursed Spirit Manipulation didn’t respond.

Nothing came out.

Not one spirit moved.

For a split second, Geto thought maybe the lower-grade ones were just being stubborn. He immediately reached higher, pulling for Grade 2, then Semi-Grade 1.

Still nothing.

Every command vanished into empty space.

It felt wrong in a way that made his spine go cold. Like the connection between his brain and his limbs had been cut clean through. His cursed energy was there. He could feel it. But the technique itself was dead.

"My technique...?!"

His pupils shrank. A thin line of cold sweat slid down his temple.

And in that tiny gap, the instant where shock held Geto still, Hayase moved.

No warning. No hesitation.

He triggered Extreme Overload Control.

His muscles screamed immediately. This body still wasn’t fully adapted, and he knew it. He wasn’t using the suicidal output he’d forced out in life-or-death simulation battles. Doing that here would just rip himself apart.

But even with the limiter on, the burst was vicious.

Hayase shot forward in a blur and cut straight into Geto’s blind spot with speed his current level had no business having.

At the edge of the field, Gojo had dropped into a crouch like he was front row at the world’s trashiest fight club. Behind his shades, the Six Eyes caught what nobody else could.

Geto’s technique hadn’t malfunctioned.

Hayase had shut it down on purpose.

The cursed energy around his body had been adjusted with absurd precision, enough to interfere with and cancel Geto’s technique the second they came into contact.

Faced with that charge, Geto proved exactly why he was Special Grade.

He didn’t stand there panicking over the mystery.

His weight shifted. His guard came up. He switched to hand-to-hand instantly, trusting the close-combat skill he’d trained for years.

Too bad Hayase knew that version of him way too well.

He’d fought Geto in the simulator so many times the patterns were burned into him. The stance, the defensive angles, the little habits in his footwork, he knew all of it. It was practically muscle memory at this point.

And the worst part for Geto was that he was still holding back.

Still treating Hayase like a novice.

Still scared of hurting him.

From Hayase’s perspective, the defense looked almost painfully soft.

He slipped low under Geto’s guard, smooth and fast, and his arm swung out in a broad, nasty arc.

Slap.

The sound cracked across the field so hard it almost felt fake.

Crisp. Loud. Clean.

A perfect full-palm hit landed right across Suguru Geto’s face, carrying just enough force to suggest Hayase had maybe been storing up some personal resentment.

For a second, the whole training ground went dead quiet.

The spar was over.

Not with some spectacular exchange of techniques. Not with a dramatic finisher.

Just like that.

Geto stayed frozen in place with his guard half raised, his brain completely blank.

His bangs were a mess now, pushed crooked by the strike and the wind.

Somewhere inside his stunned silence, one thought tried to form.

He was Special Grade.

And he’d just gotten beaten, in front of witnesses, by a newcomer who’d awakened his technique a few days ago.

Not just beaten.

Slapped.

Straight across the face.

Hayase lowered his hand and let out a slow breath. His muscles ached from the overload, but the bigger surprise was the feeling in his chest.

That slap had helped.

Just a little.

Something bitter that had been sitting there for a while had loosened.

He put on a properly apologetic expression and gave Geto a small bow.

"Sorry. That was rude. But honestly, it only worked because you were holding back."

Geto’s eyes were still a little unfocused. He slowly lifted a hand and touched the cheek that was already heating up.

"It’s... it’s fine..."

Before anyone could get into the technical side of what had just happened, Gojo completely lost control.

He bent over laughing so hard he nearly folded in half, one hand on his thigh, the other pointing at Geto’s cheek like he’d just witnessed the funniest event in human history.

"AHAHAHAHA! Suguru, you bum! A rookie broke your guard and slapped the hell out of you! I’m using this against you for the next year! Minimum! AHAHAHAHA!"

That laugh finally snapped Geto out of his stupor.

Color rushed up his neck. He whipped around and glared at Gojo like he genuinely wanted to strangle him.

"Shut up, Satoru! Close your mouth!"

He dragged in a breath, forced himself to calm down, then looked back at Hayase.

The earlier casualness was gone. Completely.

His eyes were sharp now, serious in a way they hadn’t been a minute ago.

"Just now," he said quietly, "what was that? My technique. Why couldn’t I activate it?"

Hayase had no reason to hide it.

He’d already decided this much was fine to reveal.

"It’s something I learned in a dream. Or more accurately, something I recently mastered. The reversal of Phantom Night Parade, Cursed Technique Reversal: Nagihiru Kinkou. The effect’s simple. If I successfully copy and analyze someone’s technique, I can forcibly suppress it using reversed cursed energy."

Geto’s eyes widened so fast it was almost comical.

"What? You can forcibly suppress someone else’s technique?!"

The implication hit him immediately.

Against Hayase, sorcerers could get dragged into a pure fistfight whether they liked it or not. No technique. No trick. No comfortable distance. Just hands.

It was the kind of unfair ability that made people want to call bullshit on principle.

Gojo’s laughter cut off midstream.

He stared at Hayase through his dark lenses, suddenly far more focused than before.

He’d caught the real problem hidden in that explanation.

Cursed Technique Reversal.

That was not beginner-level material. Not even close.

Gojo Satoru, self-proclaimed genius and annoyingly qualified to say it, was still grinding his teeth over positive energy control. He hadn’t fully stabilized reversal himself yet.

And this guy?

This guy had spent yesterday following Yaga around asking basic questions and somehow now wanted to claim he’d mastered it?

Absolutely not.

Gojo strode up, jabbed a finger into Hayase’s chest, and shoved him once, his tone openly nasty.

"Cursed Technique Reversal? Don’t make me laugh. There’s no way you’ve mastered that. Yesterday you were following Yaga around like a baby duck. Now one day later you’ve learned reversal? If you can use Cursed Technique Reversal, then I can combine forward and reverse applications into some ultimate move. Don’t stand there feeding me garbage just because your technique is flashy."

Hayase looked back at him with that calm, sincere expression that made people want to hit him even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

"Like I said. I learned it in a dream."

Gojo’s shades dipped lower on his nose as he gave him the nastiest eye-roll known to man.

The message on his face was obvious.

Oh, screw off. You’re still using that? Do I look five?

Hayase sighed.

Fine. If Gojo wanted an explanation that fit inside normal reality, then he’d give him one.

"Alright. The dream part was a joke. But I’m not lying about the rest. I really did master Cursed Technique Reversal. If I hadn’t, my cursed energy ceiling wouldn’t have jumped this much."

As he spoke, Hayase lifted a hand.

No chant. No hand sign.

He just extended one finger and pointed it straight at Gojo’s chest from point-blank range.

The cursed energy gathering at his fingertip was immediate and terrifying.

A tiny red point formed, so dense the air around it seemed to warp. It glowed like a compressed star, radiating violent repulsion.

Hayase met Gojo’s suddenly sharpened gaze and spoke in a low, steady voice.

"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."

Gojo stared at the red sphere gathering at Hayase’s fingertip.

The repulsive force inside it was horrifying. Even before it fired, he could feel it.

And the Six Eyes made one thing painfully clear.

That was Red.

Not an imitation. Not some vaguely similar trick.

Red.

The reversal application of Limitless. The move he’d envisioned over and over, simulated in his own head countless times, and still hadn’t cleanly brought into reality.

This bastard hadn’t just proven he could use Cursed Technique Reversal.

He’d copied Gojo’s own move and pointed it at him from arm’s length.

"Hah? You..."

Shock lasted maybe one heartbeat.

Then instinct slammed into place.

Gojo pushed his always-active Limitless to the max, building the strongest defensive barrier he could at point-blank range against an incoming Red.

And the second he mobilized the technique, it stuttered.

His perfect force field hit resistance, like the whole system had suddenly run face-first into interference.

"Wait... my Limitless, why is it..."

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Next Target 100PS :)