Chapter 110 : Poor Jogo (1)
The taxi rumbled up the dark, winding road toward Jujutsu High.
In the back seat, Mark dozed against the window, practically buried under a mountain of Akihabara shopping bags.
Satomi sat beside him, humming a pop song, tapping her fingers against her knee, adjusting her dark sunglasses.
After a moment, they both turned toward the road ahead, sensing something at the same time.
"Driver, stop here. We’ll walk the rest," Satomi said.
The driver glanced at them through the rearview mirror. "Here? But it’s pitch black, and the location is still—"
"We’re good. Thanks for the ride," Mark cut in, dropping a wad of yen onto the front seat before grabbing several shopping bags and opening the door.
The taxi didn’t linger. It pulled away down the road, leaving the two of them alone in the dark mountain air.
The temperature changed almost immediately. Thick cursed energy hung over the forest, heavy enough to make the atmosphere feel oppressive.
Mark yawned, shifting a limited-edition figure under his arm.
"Unregistered Special Grade. You want it, or should I?"
Satomi stretched, still riding the high from their shopping trip.
"I scored the ultra-rare Digimon merch today. I’m in a great mood, so I’ll handle it."
A massive geyser of flames erupted from the trees.
The blast slammed into the road, tearing through the surrounding forest. The heat melted the asphalt almost instantly, leaving behind a crater filled with glowing rock and bubbling magma.
A hunched, one-eyed cursed spirit floated down through the burning trees.
Jogo landed at the edge of the molten asphalt, smoke pouring from his volcano-shaped head, giving a rough laugh.
"Heh. Kenjaku was wrong," he sneered, staring into the flames. "That woman is nothing special. She couldn’t even react. To think they call her the strongest..."
"You know, talking to yourself out loud makes you look pretty crazy."
Jogo froze.
The flames parted.
Satomi and Mark stood in the middle of the molten crater without a scratch on either of them.
Not even their hair had been singed, and the paper shopping bags in Mark’s hands were still perfectly intact. Fire raged around them but stopped several feet away, held back by an invisible barrier.
Satomi stepped forward, heels clicking against the glowing rock as casually as a walk through a shopping district.
She lowered her sunglasses slightly, bright blue eyes fixing on Jogo, a wicked smile spreading across her face.
"So, who are you calling ’nothing special,’ Mount Fuji?"
She tilted her head, studying him like she’d found something interesting.
"You know, this is the first time I’ve seen a cursed spirit that can actually talk. You’re pretty intelligent too. Makes me almost not want to kill you."
Jogo’s eye twitched, steam hissing from the volcanic opening on his head.
How? Why wasn’t she affected?
Not even the shopping bags were damaged.
"Don’t get cocky, human!" he roared.
He slammed his hands together, and dozens of small flying curses appeared around Satomi — stinger-covered bodies swarming from every direction before detonating.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Flames swallowed the road, throwing heat and debris through the forest. Jogo held his position, cursed energy gathering around him, waiting for the smoke to clear.
A hand calmly waved the smoke away.
Satomi stepped through the flames without a scratch, adjusting her sunglasses.
"Whoops. Missed me."
She vanished.
Jogo barely had time to react before she appeared directly in front of him. Her leg came up in a smooth arc and drove into his stomach.
He choked, purple blood spilling from his mouth as the kick launched him through the air, crashing through three thick oak trees before slamming into the rocky mountainside.
"Come on, Mount Fuji!" she called, walking toward him, cracking her knuckles. "Show me what else you’ve got!"
Mark, meanwhile, yawned.
He hadn’t even bothered watching the fight.
He walked over to a section of road that hadn’t completely melted and sat down cross-legged in the middle of the ruin. A stray boulder shattered against the ground beside his head. He didn’t look up.
He opened one of his shopping bags.
"Man, if the heat warped the plastic on this display case, I’m going to be pissed."
He pulled out a limited-edition anime figure and checked the box carefully — corners, plastic window, all of it. Ash landed on the packaging; he brushed it off with his thumb.
Another explosion shook the forest. He glanced toward Satomi, then back at the figure.
"Okay, paint’s fine."
He packed it carefully back into the bag.
"Good thing Satomi took the aggro."
Jogo gasped for air that wouldn’t come. Another kick slammed into his ribs, sending him stumbling across the melted asphalt.
He was being completely outclassed, and that only fueled his fury more than the pain. Every attack either stopped short or simply failed to do anything. Even when he landed what should’ve been a clean hit, Satomi remained untouched.
Why isn’t anything hitting her?
He blocked another punch — the impact still rattled his teeth and forced him back.
There has to be a limit. No technique can defend against everything. There has to be a weakness.
Satomi raised her leg for another strike.
Jogo released a burst of flame beneath himself, propelling backward, skidding across the ruined road, purple blood running from his mouth as he finally put some distance between them.
He needed an opening.
Then his eye caught Mark.
The blonde man was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the road, completely ignoring the fight, carefully checking an anime figure for damage inside its bag.
He didn’t feel threatening at all. Compared to Satomi his presence seemed almost insignificant — a human with shopping bags.
He’s with her.
A grin spread across Jogo’s face.
Then I’ll take him.
He slammed both hands into the cracked asphalt. A violent eruption of ash, smoke, and flame swallowed the road, cutting off Satomi’s line of sight.
Using the smoke as cover, Jogo launched forward with a burst of cursed energy.
"Die, you puny human!"
His burning hand reached for Mark’s head, intending to grab him, burn through half his face, and use the screams to force a reaction out of Satomi.
He was almost there.
Then everything turned upside down.
Jogo didn’t hear the attack. He didn’t see mam move.
One moment he was staring at man’s bored expression; the next, his entire field of vision had flipped, ground and sky switching places before a violent impact sent him flying.
CRASH!
Jogo shot across the raod like a stone skipped across water — smashing through a guardrail, breaking through a boulder, disappearing into the mountain pond beside the road. A huge column of water and steam erupted from the surface.
Back on the road, Mark slowly lowered his hand and rested it on his knee, shopping bag still in the other.
He looked at the steaming pond for a few seconds.
"Is that guy stupid?"