The Cursed Spirit Who Loves Me (Jujutsu Kaisen X Male Reader)

Chapter 2 - Escape From the City

Now I know what you're thinking. Admit it; you already know how this story will go. My extended family stabbed me in the back for the large fortune. This is the part where I use my new 'colleague' to burn them all to the ground and purge the traitors with an epic revenge story akin to something like John Wick.

They even killed my butler; good enough motivation.

Well no. Not really. Honestly, they were doing me quite a favour, taking that shitty life off my hand. So I could live my own life even if that wasn't what they intended. It's like my father used to say.

"With enough manipulation, blood, sweat and sacrifice, you can make any bad situation into one that benefits us. A box of negative energy, one for all to see."

My father liked his petty speeches, but I suppose there was some truth to them; he would beat them into me. But, even in death, I know each one off by heart. And now they were to be as helpful as ever.

I have total anonymity, I'm technically dead, and I have a demonic evil spirit at a moment's call. How could I not use that to my advantage? The world is my playground, and boy, I feel pretty childish right now.

***

The nagging groan hummed over my train of thought as the elevator rose to the top floor. Leaning against the back wall, blood tricked down my arm; I glanced at the graffiti all around me. To say this place was a dump was putting it lightly. Apartment complexes like this were common across London, each as much of a shit hole as the other, left to rot and be forgotten by the outside world. If you think of London, you most likely think of Big Ben, the Tower of London, The London Eye, or maybe Buckingham Palace. It would be best if you kept it that way; it makes my life much easier.

Halting on the top floor, I approached the doors, pulling them open, letting the open wound down my arm trickle further. Strolling down the mouldy corridor, most apartments were boarded up or just plain destroyed. All apart from lucky apartment 151. Hands behind my back, I approached my prize with a straight face, paying no attention to any possible threat coming my way.

"I'm starting to think these sorts of places are your secret fetish."

"We've been through this," I state, whistling. "They're easy pickings; most turn their eye to druggies; the fewer eyes, the better. Like taking candy from a baby."

I pulled up my sleeves, revealing that both arms were capped in bandages drenched in blood. Unwrapping one, I knocked on the door, waiting.

The door opened, and a man in a tank shirt covered in tattoos glared at me. "What the hell do you want, kid?"

Holding my arm up, I smirked as the blood ripped out, slashing the thug's neck open, blood pouring out all over my face. I licked my lips, nodding. "Oh yeah, this one has a unique taste, blueberry with a hint of?"

"Caramel."

"You're absolutely right; it was at the tip of my tongue." I agree, calling the blood spilt back and concentrated around my finger. "I'll have to write that one down."

Waltzing into the drug den like I owned the place, I stood in the middle of the room, making my appearance known. "Hi there."

The druggies all looked at me speechless for a moment, none knowing what was happening. However, that didn't stop them from raising their guns at me, ready to shoot. Holding my hands up, I gave a dull look, flicking the blood off my finger. It scattered across the room, cutting down each thug like they were nothing more than paper. They all dropped to the ground dead, leaving me the lone champion.

Blood trickled out from my wounds that couldn't heal. Tightening the bandages, I wandered around bagging any loose cash I could find; any drugs were thrown aside. I had no use for the vile things, nor was I interested in selling them. "Is it here? Is it here? Is it!? Is it?!"