Anime Crossover: The Small Workshop System's Aggressive Feeding

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The text appears to be a jumbled collection of characters and symbols, possibly due to OCR errors. A direct translation isn't meaningful without further context or clarification.

He gently stroked the tightly closed eyeballs on the cube, a meaningful smile appearing on his face. 5.5

This item was originally intended for Gojo Satoru, but now it seems it might have a more interesting use.

He looked down at the ground, his gaze seemingly piercing through layers of soil and rocks, looking towards the distant High School of Spellcasting.

"The game has only just begun," he murmured to himself.

"But before that, we need to find some fun for those lovely students at the vocational college and increase the difficulty of the game a bit, right?"

He pulled a withered finger, emanating an ominous aura, from his sleeve—the finger of Ryomen Sukuna. Then, he casually tossed it to a low-level cursed spirit lurking in the shadows, drooling and ugly in appearance.

The cursed spirit instinctively opened its mouth wide and swallowed the finger whole.

Chapter 349 The Initial Operation of the Underworld

Sato Takeru's last conscious thought was of the screeching sound of tires rubbing against the asphalt, and the cheap amulet his wife had bought him on the steering wheel. He wanted to hit the brakes, but thirty-six hours of continuous work had turned his body into an unresponsive block of lead. Then, the world shattered into a blinding white light.

When he "opened" his eyes again, he was floating in mid-air, like a forgotten balloon. Below, a twisted and deformed car was wedged against the guardrail, its alternating red and blue lights piercing the silence of the night. Paramedics were quickly and calmly covering something on a stretcher with a white sheet. He recognized the wrinkled suit; it was the one he had worn that morning.

"Hey..." he tried to speak, but no sound came out. He reached out, wanting to grab a nurse's shoulder, but his fingers slipped right through her.

The world around him turned into a slow-motion silent film. He saw his phone fall out of the car, the screen shattered but still lit, displaying a message from his wife half an hour earlier: Be careful on the road, the soup is ready.

An indescribable sadness gripped him. He wasn't a great man, just an ordinary office worker, commuting daily on crowded trams to pay his mortgage and his daughter's tuition. His 30 years were unremarkable, but that was his life. Now, it was all over. He hadn't even had a chance to reply to that message.

What will he become? Like in horror movies, a ghost haunting the accident scene? Or will he slowly dissipate, as if he never existed? Fear and confusion, like icy seawater, completely overwhelmed him.

Just then, the space around him distorted unnaturally. A tall figure emerged from thin air, as if an invisible zipper had been torn open. The figure was exceptionally robust, dressed in a well-tailored black uniform with a silver number tag pinned to his chest. But that wasn't the most eye-catching thing.

Most strikingly, he has the head of a bull.

The head wasn't flesh and blood, but a metallic material, its two horns polished smooth and sharp. Its eyes were two calm red lights, devoid of anger or malice, only displaying an almost programmed indifference. In its hand, it carried a chain of the same metallic texture, the chains making a soft "click" sound that was clearly audible amidst the chaotic background noise.

Sato Takeru's soul instinctively felt fear, but it wasn't the kind of hatred and dread he felt when facing cursed spirits. It was a purer kind of awe, a reverence for absolute order and power.

The minotaur walked straight toward him, its red electronic eyes scanning his ethereal body. Then, a monotone synthesized voice rang out, clearly entering Sato Takeru's consciousness.

Soul number 734, Takeru Satoh. Time of death: 23:47:12 local time. Cause of death: Traffic accident, traumatic brain injury. Information confirmed.

The minotaur raised his hand, and the chain in his hand seemed to come alive, one end flying out automatically and gently fastening to Sato Takeru's "wrist." The touch was icy cold, but there was no painful restraint, only an irresistible connection.

According to Article 3 of Chapter 1 of the "Provisional Regulations of the Underworld," I, Niu-017, a grassroots guide, will escort you to the Soul Guidance Center. Niu-017's voice remains calm and straightforward; please do not resist to avoid unnecessary energy depletion.

The underworld? A place where souls are drawn together? Takeru Satoh's mind went blank. Was this some kind of hallucination after death? Or were the myths and legends all true?

Niu-017 gave him no more time to think. It turned around and gently pulled the chain. Sato Takeru felt himself being pulled by a gentle but irresistible force, following it as he sank step by step into the earth beneath his feet. Passing through asphalt, through dirt and pipes, the whole world became a rapidly receding stream of data in his eyes.

When the sense of penetration disappeared, he found himself in a magnificent space that defied description.

This place resembled a colossal underground station, its dome so high it seemed to stretch to the horizon, radiating a soft light. Countless translucent souls, like him, marched in orderly lines, slowly advancing along glowing tracks. There was not a sound in the air, only a peculiar hum, like that of a giant computer in operation.

Led by Niu-017, he joined one of the groups. He saw the souls in front of and behind him; some were wearing hospital gowns, some were in suits, and some were still in school uniforms. Their expressions varied—some were confused, some were sad, and some were calm—but no one cried or resisted.

At the end of the line were rows of windows. Behind each window sat "staff" of various appearances. Some were tall and thin, wearing tall hats and white clothes; others were short and stout, with kind faces and dressed in black. They were the legendary "Black and White Impermanence," but like Niu-017, they didn't exude any sinister aura, only focused concentration while working.

It was Takeru Satoh's turn. A screen lit up in front of a Cursed Corpse in the form of a white ghost, displaying key moments from his life, from birth to death, like a fast-forwarded movie.

Takeru Satoh, 39 years old. He had no major crimes or acts of kindness during his lifetime. He was a diligent worker, loved his family, occasionally evaded taxes, ran red lights three times, helped an elderly person who had fallen, and sometimes ignored stray cats… Overall assessment: Above average. Meets the standard reincarnation criteria.

Black Impermanence Curse Corpse stamped a green light mark on his "file" and then pointed to a passageway to the side.

Proceed along this path to the waiting area for transfer. The ever-burning lamp your family has kept lit for you will grant you priority in your selection.

An ever-burning lamp? Takeru Satoh was stunned. He remembered his wife, a Buddhist, who would go to the temple every year to pray for the family and light an ever-burning lamp. Could it be…?

He instinctively followed the procession towards the passage. Passing a fork in the road, he saw another group of souls being led in a different direction. These souls were surrounded by visible black mist, their expressions contorted in agony. They were led to a huge pool filled with a dark red liquid, emitting a mixture of sulfur and ozone.

Those burdened with grave sins are cast into the purification pool to wash away their evil deeds and rebuild the foundation of their souls. The process may be somewhat uncomfortable; please be prepared. A cursed corpse in the form of a horse-faced demon proclaimed in a completely emotionless voice.

Those wicked souls were thrown into the pool without screaming; instead, there was a high-frequency buzzing sound, like a soul being forcibly stripped of its impurities.

Sato Takeru watched with a chilling yet strangely reassuring feeling. Everything here was cold, efficient, and terrifyingly fair. The principle of "good begets good, evil begets evil" was no longer an empty platitude, but an ironclad law written into the system.

He turned back to look at the busy "Ox-Head and Horse-Face" and "Black and White Impermanence." Only then did he notice that their body structure—their unique joints and energy cores—were clearly those of the Cursed Skeletons. In this vast space, besides these Cursed Skeleton staff, there were also some human souls radiating a soft light. They wore different styles of uniforms, moving between areas, supervising the operation of the Cursed Skeletons, and handling various emergencies. They were the managers here.

A brand new afterlife, constructed from souls and cursed remains.

Takeru Satoh walked to the passageway radiating soft white light. He knew that once he stepped inside, everything he had as "Takeru Satoh" would end, and a completely new journey would begin. He turned back, taking one last look at this place that had overturned his understanding of the world.

His gaze passed over the countless queuing souls, over the efficiently working cursed corpses, and looked towards the highest point of this magnificent space.

There, on a suspended, independent observation platform, stood a man. He stood silently at the edge, hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the vast and intricate soul pipeline below. He exuded no imposing aura; he simply stood there quietly, yet seemed to be the center of the entire world.

Takeru Satoh felt the figure looked familiar. He tried to search his fading memory. Right, it was a fleeting photo in a corner of some financial news article.

Zhou Ye, Chairman of the Sky Council.

It turns out that the man, whom the world of sorcery regarded as a monstrous threat, had built a true "underworld" in the unknown underground, a place that even the gods had never constructed.

Takeru Satoh smiled with relief. He bowed deeply in that direction, then turned and walked without hesitation into the warm light.

Chapter 350 A New Way to Flip the Table

Inside the Wanxiang Surveillance Room, a bright red countdown number on a huge holographic projection jumped in the deathly silence, eventually returning to zero.

The 24-hour ultimatum has expired.

"Alright, game time is over."

Gojo Satoru stood up from the sofa, stretched dramatically, and his joints cracked with a series of crisp pops. He counted on his fingers, a look of excited anticipation on his way to an amusement park to ride a roller coaster on his face.

"Those old guys should have already called everyone they can, right? Perfect, let me test just how useful the new boss's upgraded permissions really are. Don't they like playing with barriers? I'll see if their turtle shells are harder, or my Azure Dragon's."

He couldn't wait to send the message over and see the expressions on the faces of the people in the management department when they discovered their carefully prepared trap had turned into a joke. Aggressive debt collection is always the most direct and effective form of communication.

"Stop."

Zhou Ye's calm voice came from behind the control panel. It wasn't loud, but it made Gojo Satoru, who was about to activate his technique, freeze instantly.

"Huh?" Gojo Satoru turned his head, somewhat puzzled. "Time's up, boss. If we wait any longer, they'll think we're just bluffing."

Zhou Ye didn't answer him, but simply tapped the screen in front of him. The holographic projection in the monitoring room instantly switched, and a bird's-eye view of the three-dimensional structure appeared. It was a complete structural diagram of the Spellcasting Supervision Department, and at this moment, a semi-transparent energy shield flowing with complex incantations was enveloping the entire department.

"A time-stopping barrier under the protection of Lord Tengen," Kasumigaoka Utaha explained from the side, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

"Theoretically, it can stop the passage of time within the barrier for an entire day; it's the Directorate General's trump card for survival. At the same time, they've ambushed at least two hundred sorcerers around the area, and even..."

She zoomed in on a shadowy area, where several ominous red dots flickered.

"...They even hired several notorious groups of curse masters, promising to pardon their past crimes if they could cause you trouble."

Looking at the setup on the screen, Gojo Satoru grinned: "Oh? They're even using a curse master. This is desperate measures. But this turtle shell is indeed quite hard. Perfect, let me try out my newly developed gadget and see if I can crack it open like an egg."

The "little gadget" he mentioned is a new application that combines "Cang" and "He" at a microscopic level based on the theory provided by Zhou Ye, and its destructive power far exceeds that of the past.

Why knock?

Zhou Ye finally turned around, looked at the eager Gojo Satoru, and asked in return.

"Huh?" Gojo Satoru was taken aback.

"A soon-to-be-abandoned landfill, piled high with rotting garbage,"

Zhou Ye spoke as if discussing the weather, "Why did you insist on breaking it open yourself and getting yourself covered in stench? Wouldn't it be more interesting to let it rot slowly inside its shell, emitting a stench that makes everyone hold their noses and walk around it?"

With that, he casually waved his hand, shutting down the surveillance footage from the headquarters. The heavily guarded, seemingly impervious center of magical power vanished from everyone's sight, like an insignificant backdrop.

"Your mission has changed."

Zhou Ye turned to Gotō Satoru, “From now on, ignore all orders and the existence of the Directorate General. Don’t they like to be the rule-makers? Then we’ll create a completely new set of rules, a set of rules that will render their rules worthless.”

He pulled up another document, and a gloomy and eerie forest appeared on the holographic projection. It was the special-grade cursed spirit that had been entrenched in the Aokigahara Forest, a suicide hotspot in Japan, for many years—"The Seeker of Death".

The screen displayed information about this cursed spirit: its origin lies in the vast negative emotions accumulated from suicides over hundreds of years; its ability is to induce intense suicidal impulses in anyone entering its domain and then devour their soul. Over the decades, the sorcery community has organized seven large-scale exterminations, all ending in failure, resulting in the loss of over thirty skilled sorcerers, including a near-Special Grade one. The Directorate General has long classified it as "untouchable," only sealing it off without attempting exorcism.

“Take your students,” Zhou Ye said, his gaze falling on Gojo Satoru, “and take care of it. Do it our way.”

Kasumigaoka Utaha walked over at the right moment and handed a silver briefcase to Gojo Satoru. The briefcase was opened, and inside were not some powerful cursed artifacts, but several strangely shaped instruments.

"This is a beacon of conceptual purification,"

Kasumigaoka Utaha explained,

"There are three units in total. It cannot directly attack the cursed spirit, but it can analyze and reverse the root cause of the curse. Simply put, it can forcibly transform the concepts of despair and death that permeate the entire forest into peace and rest. When the soil in which the curse exists disappears, it will naturally disintegrate."

She then pointed to several goggles and a tablet computer inside the box.

"The entire process is open to the public."

Zhou Ye added, his finger tracing a line in the air, and a live streaming platform interface appeared. "Use this to let all sorcerers, especially those young people who are still hesitating and observing, see what true exorcism is. Let them see whether following a group of old men clinging to ancient rules is a path of continued pointless sacrifice, or whether they should follow us into a new era without tragedy."

Salaries are drawn from the bottom of the pot.

Wu Tiaowu instantly understood Zhou Ye's intention.

This is a hundred times more vicious than storming into the director's office and starting a fight.

The Directorate's power stems from their authority to define the rules of the sorcery world and to allocate tasks. They decide who goes to their deaths and who survives. Now, Zhou Ye's task is to bypass them entirely and establish a new evaluation system.

When everyone sees that the Council can eliminate the top-tier cursed spirit that the Directorate General was helpless against in a safe, efficient, and zero-casualty manner, the Directorate General's authority will instantly collapse. All their wanted posters and orders to subjugate it will become a colossal joke.

Who would listen to the orders of a corrupt organization that only sends people to their deaths but ignores truly efficient methods?

Gojo Satoru picked up the suitcase. The suitcase wasn't heavy, but he felt an unprecedented weight on it. A smile reappeared on his face, but this time, it wasn't a belligerent excitement, but rather a mischievous, expectant smile.

He turned and looked at Moth Zhengdao, who had been silently listening in the corner. From the beginning, the former principal's expression had been constantly changing, from tension to confusion, and now to sudden realization and shock.

"headmaster,"

Gojo Satoru's voice carried a hint of mockery, yet also an undeniable seriousness.

"Could you please go and call Hui and Yujin? It's time to give them their first... practical lesson in the new era."

Chapter 351 Practical Lessons in the New Era

Tokyo Jujutsu High School, playground.

Yuujin Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, and Nobara Kugisaki stood side by side, the atmosphere as heavy as if they were about to be executed. Masamichi Yagami had summoned them here, only saying that there was a special mission led by "Captain Gojo," without explaining anything else.

The title "Captain Five" itself carries a strange sense of alienation.