Hearing Gojo Satoru bring it up, it clicked for Akira too.
"Your last assigned mission?"
"Not just last—half my classified gigs come from there."
Normally, top-secret missions stay between the assignee and the dispatch brass, but reforms changed that.
Akira's both Tokyo branch bigwig and mission dispatcher—telling him's no breach.
Akira pressed, "Tied to that 'Land of Binding' or 'Trial Ground' stuff—those edgy-as-hell names?"
"I wish it was just edgy," Gojo sighed.
"Spill it."
Akira's curiosity flared. He'd wanted to dig into this pit forever—either locked out by clearance or stonewalled by insiders.
"You know how anime and games hype up spirit veins or dragon lines? Curse world's got 'em too—not as veins, though. Veins alone don't matter—it's when they pool into a 'Spirit Field' that they're worth a damn. Hokkaido's Japan's biggest, and with today's curse scene fading, probably the world's liveliest."
"What's this 'Spirit Field' do?" A "field" means something special.
"Ferries souls."
"Getting weirder."
"Souls are fairy-tale stuff for most sorcerers—not us. We've got a prime example right here."
Akira knew he meant Rika Orimoto—bound to Yuta Okkotsu as a soul, or "shackled" to him.
The only soul Gojo's seen so intact. Normal ones fade with death—force 'em to stay via curses, and you get Ijūin's nasty wax corpse vibe.
Rika's nightmare dungeon dives prove it more each time.
It's hush-hush, but regular runs are now Tokyo High's training norm. Last one got close to the core—Yuta glimpsed a girl's shadow sleeping at a central altar-like spot.
She's waiting for her childhood sweetheart, dream guy, to break the nightmare and wake her.
Their story'll end there—or start anew.
All of Tokyo High's rooting for it.
That's later, though—Akira and Gojo zeroed in on now.
Akira said, "So Hokkaido's Japan's mythic Yomotsu Hirasaka—gateway to hell or the underworld?"
Gojo corrected, "Yomotsu Hirasaka's right, but it's not hell or underworld—just feeds into 'Yomi.'"
"And then?" In Japanese myth, Yomi's a conduit—souls need Yomi-no-kuni to sort 'em.
"There's no 'then.'"
"None? These souls—"
"Guess how a 'Spirit Field' even Tengen can't touch got made?"
"Hiss~"
Akira sucked in a breath.
The more he chewed on it, the creepier it got—souls as fuel.
Gojo stayed cool. "Nothing shocking. Curses and sorcery are soul energy anyway. Worry less about the dead, more about the living."
"You mean this 'Spirit Field' screws with the living big-time?" Piecing it with manga intel from his past life, Akira felt a thread.
Gojo hummed. "Here's my Six Eyes take: that 'Spirit Field' can tweak how humans exist—mind over body, raw, unfiltered connection. Think Evangelion—Human Instrumentality—"
"—shared consciousness, juiced into orange slush," Akira finished, getting it.
"Not that far—regional at best. Me, the Alliance, and Hokkaido's local curse crew know the risks. We won't let it spiral."
"Ever thought of a permanent fix?"
"Sure, two ways. One: I max my technique, redraw Hokkaido's map. Two: ask the big neighbor next door for a hydrogen bomb—think they're the only ones still stocking 'em."
"Don't toss that out so casually—Versailles isn't a toy."
Akira ribbed him, silently adding—Rest in peace, Yu Min.
"Those past missions—"
"—were to patch 'Spirit Field' hotspots getting too lively, risking blowouts. Others could go, but it'd take longer and might piss off the local curse crew."
"Why the pushback? Isn't it helping them?" Akira didn't get it.
"'Land of Binding,' remember? 'Binding' means pact in Japanese. Way back—maybe pre-Big Three—someone etched a bloodline-deep oath there. Terms? Lost. But the 'Spirit Field' still runs, so the vow holds. Born five centuries earlier, I might've had a better fix."
That sigh, plus the Versailles quip, screamed how entrenched this mess was.
Akira saw it differently. "Five hundred years? A millennium might not cut it. The Emishi (Ainu) and Yamato scrapped on and off for a thousand years—only tapered off last two centuries."
The "I" in Shogun's "Seii Taishogun" is Emishi. Trading blows with the Yamato—Japan's main ethnic chunk—that long? No weaklings, surface or shadow.
Plus, Noritoshi Kamo—Brain Boy—was stirring the pot.
His "Curse Power Optimization" endgame hinges on mass Japanese mind-meld—sideways orange juice.
Tengen's manga lore called it: that land's a giant 'Spirit Field,' rehearsal done.
No Kamo fingerprints? Akira wouldn't buy it—probably his HQ.
Beyond "Brain," Kamo's got another tag: Japan's #2 barrier master, second only to Tengen. Backs the theory.
Tengen and Kamo—both millennium vets, top two barrier pros. Cause and effect? Bet on it.
Intel's too thin.
This murky deep end's best for Gojo—the tallest guy wading in.
Akira thought so—until the mission's last line: Suspected Pokémon sighting.
WHAT?