The apartment door slammed open with a thunderous crack.
Gojo Satoru was the first to step in, his normally carefree demeanor wiped clean. His eyes, now serious and sharp beneath his blindfold, scanned the modest room—minimalist, neat, organized with military precision.
In the middle of the room, seated on a plain wooden chair, sat the man.
Bald. A perfectly pressed black suit. Red tie, knotted clean. Silverballers holstered at his hips. Barcode visible on the back of his head like a brand of death.
Agent 47.
He didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Just stared forward with that unreadable, deadpan calm.
"Found him," Gojo muttered, stepping fully into the room. "He was the only one caught heading in the direction of the Mahito incident. City surveillance picked up a black car matching the tire tracks left at the scene. After that… all CCTV feeds within a five-block radius cut off."
Nobara let out a whistle. "That's not easy to do."
"It's not supposed to be possible," Megumi added, eyes narrowed.
Itadori's eyes darted from Gojo to 47. "Wait… wait, are you saying this guy did all that? He's just sitting there like a statue."
"Not 'just' anything," Gojo said. "Look at him. No aura. No cursed energy. No fear."
Nobara crossed her arms, unimpressed. "So what, he's a creepy guy in a sharp suit. He could just be a cosplayer."
"Shut up, Nobara," Megumi said under his breath. "You're saying that in front of him?"
"I don't care! Look at him, sitting there like he owns the place—"
Her words died in her throat.
In less than a heartbeat, the silver glint of a silenced pistol was staring back at her forehead. 47 hadn't moved from his chair. Hadn't leaned forward. He simply raised his arm and pointed the gun at her in one motion, as precise and fluid as a machine.
But she felt it. A death that hadn't happened. A shot that hadn't been fired—but could've, and would've, if her foot had landed a few inches closer.
Gojo raised his hand. "That's enough."
And still… not a flicker of emotion on his face.
Nobara froze. Her body chilled instantly, as if her death had already been decided.
Gojo's hand hovered subtly near his blindfold. "That's quick. Too quick," he murmured. "Faster than most Grade 1s I've seen. You didn't even let off a curse trace."
Megumi was silent, staring. "It's like he isn't even human."
Gojo stared for a long moment. The air was heavy. He didn't like being outmatched—especially by someone without cursed energy.
Itadori tried to ease the tension. "Hey man, uh… you're not really gonna shoot her, right? This is all just… intimidation, yeah?"
47 slowly lowered his pistol and reholstered it. His voice, calm and deliberate, broke the silence for the first time.
"I do not harm unless there is a reason."
Gojo raised a brow. "Funny. You just killed one of the most sadistic cursed spirits this city's ever seen. Mahito wasn't just a reason… he was a walking plague."
"He was a target," 47 answered.
Gojo smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Who's giving the targets, then?"
"Confidential."
Megumi stepped forward now. "You didn't leave any traces at the scene. No cursed energy. No blood trail. But we know it was you. And if you didn't want us finding you, you wouldn't be here."
"You're right," 47 said simply.
That one sentence set the room on edge again.
Gojo cocked his head. "So, what's the play here? You gonna kill us too?"
47 stood up, his movements smooth and deliberate, like a clock spring uncoiling.
"If I intended to… you would already be dead."
Nobara took a deep breath and stepped back, visibly shaken.
Gojo crossed his arms. "You're not lying. That's the scary part."
"Then why did you kill Mahito?" Megumi asked. "You don't seem like the kind who cares about cursed spirits or collateral damage."
"The mission was to neutralize a threat."
Gojo's expression turned thoughtful, hands in his pockets. "So someone… something… is giving you these missions. And you follow them without question."
"I complete contracts. Efficiently."
"Who hired you?" Itadori asked, eyes locked on 47.
"Classified."
Gojo smiled again, a little more genuinely this time. "You're not a sorcerer. You're not even on our map. And yet here you are, wiping out curses like it's your day job."
47 adjusted his cuffs, then stepped past Gojo, toward the window.
"I do not answer to your maps."