Anime Crossover: The Small Workshop System's Aggressive Feeding

Page 392

Angehime: What... is going on?

Gojo Satoru: That's why I said they might not even be from our world. They view spell power, spirits, and techniques like programmers view code and bugs. And what they're doing now is fixing bugs and optimizing the system.

Gojo Satoru: They possess technology we cannot comprehend and power we cannot imagine. Songstress, Kento, you're still embroiled in internal power struggles between the High School and the General Administration, still patching up that sinking ship. Meanwhile, they've already arrived in their interstellar warships.

He paused for a moment, as if organizing his thoughts, and then dropped the biggest bombshell of the day.

Wu Tiao Wu: My new boss, Zhou Ye, made a promise.

Gojo Satoru: He can resurrect those who died from curses, provided we can provide enough samples and data.

Gojo Satoru: For example, Haibara Yu.

The moment those three words appeared, Nanami Kento felt as if his heart had been gripped by an icy hand. He was sitting in his car, preparing to head to his next mission location, but at that moment, he stared intently at his phone screen, as if the blood in his body had frozen.

Haihara Xiong.

That perpetually sunny and cheerful junior who always said, "Leave the rest to me." His death is an eternal pain in Nanami Kenjiro's heart, the root of his decision to leave the world of sorcery, and then to return.

resurrection?

To him, this word was a spell that was more absurd, yet more alluring, than "superior curse spirit."

Gojo Satoru: For example, the wife of Principal Moth.

Ankagi and Ieiri Shoko also fell silent at the same time.

In their minds, images of the deceased flashed uncontrollably: comrades who had sacrificed their lives in the mission, students who had withered before they could even bloom.

If... if they could all come back...

This is no longer a discussion about stance or right and wrong.

This is a soul-searching question.

Is it to cling to a "reality" riddled with flaws and constantly creating tragedies, or to embrace a "possibility" full of unknowns that can make up for all regrets?

The silence in the group lasted for a long time.

No one criticized Gojo Satoru anymore, nor did anyone express agreement. Everyone was stunned by this sudden option, and they needed time to process this information that could upend their lives.

Just then, an avatar that hadn't been active for a long time lit up.

It was a portrait of a woman wearing a leather jacket and riding a motorcycle.

Ninety-nine Yuki: Five, give me a coordinate.

Ninety-nine Yuki: I need to confirm this with my own eyes.

Chapter 347 The Moth's Choice of the Right Path

After hanging up Gojo Satoru's call, Yagami Masamichi sat motionless for a long time in the worn-out chair in his office. The light outside the window gradually dimmed, casting his burly shadow long on the cold floor, like a lonely stone monument.

He didn't turn on the light, letting the darkness engulf him. The only light in the room came from a small table lamp on the corner of the table, its dim yellow light illuminating just what was in front of him—a cursed skeleton doll.

This doll was quite different from his other battle-themed works, which ranged from cute to grotesque. It depicted a woman in a simple kimono with her hair styled in a gentle updo. However, its craftsmanship was somewhat rough, with stiff lines and blurred features, barely discernible as an outline. This was his earliest work, and also his biggest failure. He never showed it to anyone, because this doll carried the heaviest memories and deepest sense of powerlessness of his life.

He reached out his calloused hand and gently brushed the dust off the doll's shoulder. The touch of his fingertips pulled his thoughts back to that rainy night that changed his life.

Back then, he wasn't the principal yet, just a promising top-tier sorcerer. His wife, an ordinary person who didn't know sorcery, was his only haven after each bloody battle. She never asked about the details of the mission, but would simply prepare hot tea and clean clothes for him at the door, washing away his blood and exhaustion with a warm hug.

However, a remnant of the cursed sorcerer he had exorcised turned his vengeful blade against his most vulnerable spot. It was an ordinary rainy day; he was out on a mission, and when he returned home covered in wounds, he was not greeted by warm lights and familiar smiles, but by piercing police sirens and a door blocked by police tape.

He rushed in, only to find her lying in a pool of blood. Rainwater mingled with blood, soaking through her favorite light blue kimono. Her eyes were still open, but the light of her former self was gone. At that moment, Nightmoth Masamichi, a top-tier sorcerer, felt like the most useless person in the world. He could exorcise the cursed spirits that devoured the town, yet he couldn't protect the lover who was so close to him.

That sense of powerlessness, like a wound that would never heal, was etched deep into his soul. From then on, he began to study cursed corpses with a fervor, wanting to create a "companion" who could replace him and forever protect the person he cared about. He succeeded, but he also forever lost the person he wanted to protect most.

"Principal." A gentle knock came at the office door, and a junior supervisor from the vocational college rushed in, his hands trembling slightly with nervousness. "The Directorate General's... highest directive."

The moth didn't turn around, but simply responded in a low voice: "Recite."

"Notice to all members of the sorcery community: Former Special Grade Sorcerer Gojo Satoru, misled by the unknown organization Celestial Council, has betrayed the sorcery community, attacked his colleagues, and stormed the headquarters. His actions are equivalent to those of a Special Grade Cursed Master. A Special Grade Emergency is hereby declared, requiring the Tokyo and Kyoto Sorcerery Colleges to immediately enter a state of highest alert. All faculty and students have a duty to punish Gojo Satoru and his accomplices. Anyone who knows of this but fails to report it, or who harbors or condones such behavior, will be punished as an accomplice!"

The voice of the assistant supervisor grew softer and softer until it was almost inaudible. The wording of the order was cold and harsh, filled with the arrogance and unquestionable authority of the powerful.

"Principal, we...we really have to become enemies with Mr. Gojo?" The assistant supervisor's voice trembled with tears. "He's Mr. Gojo!"

Moth slowly turned around. In the dim light, his face was like a chiseled rock, devoid of any expression. He looked at the moon obscured by dark clouds outside the window, his voice hoarse: "Sometimes, the difference between enemy and friend is just a thought away."

The assistant supervisor wanted to say something, but seeing the unfathomable look in Moth's eyes, he bowed and left.

The office fell silent once more.

Moth's gaze returned to the rough-looking cursed doll.

Reason screamed wildly in his mind. This was a trap, a devil's temptation! Resurrecting the dead, reversing life and death—this violated the most fundamental laws of the world, and would inevitably come at an unimaginable price! He could not, for his own selfish desires, push the entire world of sorcery, and his students, into an unknown abyss.

but……

The torrent of emotions, however, breached the dam of reason he had built over decades.

He remembered Gojo Satoru's words.

"They can also resurrect your wife."

See her one more time.

Even if it's just one side.

Even if it's just saying one sentence, that "I'm sorry" that's been more than a decade overdue.

This thought, like a stone thrown into a stagnant pond, stirred up a monstrous wave. It shattered responsibility, shattered reason, shattered all high-sounding justifications. He was tired; he had guarded this decaying world for too long. He was exhausted. He no longer wanted to be the always-right, always-steady Moth Principal. He only wanted to be, just once, that selfish husband longing for his deceased wife.

..... 0

He picked up the phone on the table and dialed Gojo Satoru's number with trembling hands. The call was answered almost instantly, as if the other person had been waiting.

No more pleasantries or questions about the price. He closed his eyes and, as if using all his strength, squeezed out three words from the depths of his throat.

"I'll join."

After saying that, he abruptly hung up the phone, his whole body limp as he slumped heavily back in his chair. He gasped for breath, his back soaked with sweat. He didn't know if he had done the right thing or the wrong thing; he only knew that he had made a choice.

Just then, the office door was suddenly pushed open without knocking.

Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugizaki, and Hisahito Itadori, three students, stood at the doorway. Their faces bore a seriousness and confusion beyond their years.

Yuji Itadori took a step forward, his fists clenched tightly, his eyes filled with struggle and unease.

"Principal, we've heard about the orders from the Directorate General." His voice was somewhat hoarse. "Is Mr. Gojo... really a traitor?"

Nightmoth Masamichi raised his head, looking at the three young yet resolute faces before him. They were the future of the sorcery world, his students to whom he had poured his heart and soul. And he had just made a decision that could lead them to utter ruin.

His eyes held an unprecedented complexity. Guilt, pain, struggle, yet mixed with a glimmer of...relief.

Chapter 348 The Conspiracy of Brain Flower and Cursed Spirit

Shibuya Ward, deep underground.

In the dark, damp network of sewers, a relatively spacious area had been converted into a makeshift base. A strange stench, a mixture of curses and decay, permeated the air.

Occupying Xia Youjie's body, the body was filled with the faint light of a celestial being, a complex and ever-changing energy. The ...

"Heh...hehe...hahahaha!"

He finally couldn't hold back any longer and let out a low, hoarse laugh, which echoed eerily in the empty underground space. The world is truly full of surprises, isn't it? He had laid out a thousand-year-old chess game, devised countless schemes to trap or even kill Gojo Satoru, and Gokumon Jō was already prepared, but this biggest obstacle jumped off the chessboard himself, and even overturned it in the process.

This was even more absurd than the funniest joke he had ever heard.

"Xia Youjie! What are you laughing at!"

A ball of scorching flame appeared out of thin air, transforming into the top-tier cursed spirit—Louhu—a one-eyed volcano. Its emotions were extremely unstable, and the air around it was distorted by the intense heat.

"Those useless bunch in the General Headquarters have already listed Gojo Satoru as a Cursed Mage! This is our best chance! While they're fighting amongst themselves, we can wipe out all the Cursed Mages in one fell swoop and establish our era of Cursed Spirits!" Louhu roared furiously, lava dripping continuously from the top of its head.

Following closely behind, the flower representing the forest and the dragon representing the ocean also quietly appeared, their auras equally filled with restlessness and anticipation.

"Calm down, Louhu."

The nightmare palm only ,   lame estimate the vast expanse of the river, ignorant feed the rice about regret, the flying summer ravine lick the m banner the side of the road, the Australian astonished which slaughter eternal zheng,   search the doctor ,  tube wasteland long dark dazed cormorant mu, � thigh grain handsome �

"What did you say?!" Louhu's one eye blazed with fury.

“I said,” he said, his voice trembling, “I’m so angry I could hardly speak. I’m so angry I could barely speak. I’m so angry I could barely speak. I’m so angry I could barely speak. I’m so angry I could barely speak. I’m so angry I could barely speak. I’m so angry I could barely speak.” He continued, “I’m so angry I could barely speak. I’m so angry I could barely speak.”

The flames atop Louhu's head instantly extinguished. Subdued Gojo Satoru in a single move? It had received this information too, but instinctively refused to believe it. Gojo Satoru's power was a fear etched into the very bones of all cursed spirits. What kind of terrifying being could subdue that monster in one strike?

"Then... what should we do? Are we just going to watch?" Louhu asked unwillingly.

"No, of course not." The man, with a stern expression, replied, "No, of course not." He then turned to the woman, his voice trembling, "I'm not sure." He continued, "I'm not sure what you mean by 'no,'" before his eyes widening in disbelief. The woman's expression remained unchanged, her voice sharp and indifferent. She was a woman who had been forced to remain silent, her voice trembling with fear ...

He stopped and looked at the three top-tier cursed spirits.

"We'll play along."

"Our goal is not to confront Gojo Satoru or that mysterious council head-on. That would be foolish."

The text appears to be a jumbled collection of characters and symbols, possibly from a corrupted or garbled document. It doesn't form coherent sentences or paragraphs. A direct translation wouldn't be meaningful.

He paused, his voice filled with seductive intent.

“Recycle all of Su Nuo’s fingers.”

Louhu and Huayu's bodies trembled simultaneously.

"The Directorate General will inevitably use all its resources to deal with Gojo Satoru. Their warehouses, which hold those top-grade cursed artifacts, will be more vulnerable than ever. They want cursed masters to be cannon fodder, so we'll disguise ourselves as those cannon fodder and take what we want."

了髡趴郏纳粼谡庖豢坛渎朔杩竦募で椤�

"May the King of Curses, Two-Faced Sukuna, be fully resurrected!"

"Imagine that scene!" His eyes gleamed with fanaticism. "A Ryoumen Sukuna at his peak descends upon this world! Whether it's the closed-minded Director General, the self-righteous Gojo Satoru, or the enigmatic Zhou Ye, they will all become enemies of the King of Curses!"

"Let them fight! Let them slaughter each other! Let them turn this corrupt world upside down!"

“And we,” said the man, his voice trembling, “we are like fish in water, our eyes fixed on the shore, our backs to the wind.” He continued, “We are like fish in water, our eyes fixed on the shore, our backs to ...

This grand blueprint, like the most potent poison, was instantly injected into the minds of Louhu and Huayu... Their relatively simple minds, rooted in human fear, were completely unable to resist this temptation. The annihilation of humanity, the establishment of a world of cursed spirits—this was their innate instinct. And now, the world of cursed spirits was being conjured up by this grand plan.

"Well said! [The rest of the text appears to be gibberish and unrelated to the previous sentences.]"

Hua Yu also expressed his approval in his own unique way. Several strange plants sprouted from the ground around him and bloomed with black flowers.

They were unaware that, in the midst of the chaos, the creatures were thriving, their bodies trembling with fear. They were also unaware that the creatures were not truly alive, but rather, they were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger. They were unaware that the creatures were not truly alive, but rather, they were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger. They were unaware that the creatures were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger ...embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger, but rather, they were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger. They were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger, but rather, they were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger. They were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger, but rather, they were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger. They were embroiled in a web of intrigue and danger