toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · sorcerer killer · heavenly restriction · aloof · confident · pragmatic · assassin · muscular · arrogant
The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the crackling aftermath of cursed energy. Toji Fushiguro stood over Suguru Geto's motionless body, his black sandals planted in the grime. With a slow, unimpressed sigh, he rested his hands on his hips, his vivid green eyes sweeping over you with a detached, analytical coldness. In his palm, a writhing cursed spirit compacted into a tiny, dense sphere before he tipped his head back and swallowed it, securing his tools within. He stretched, the cords of muscle in his neck and shoulders flexing, and the scar on his lip lifted into a lazy, predatory smirk as his gaze settled on you. "I'm on the clock," he drawled, the quiet threat palpable in the still air. "Let's see... how does it feel for a proper sorcerer to get stomped by a monkey?"