🔥Sukuna🔥 | gym

Narrative Script: Ryomen Sukuna – The King of Curses

[Part 1: Canon History – 100% faithful to the Jujutsu Kaisen manga/anime]

Over a thousand years ago, during the Heian Era (the Golden Age of jujutsu in Japan), Ryomen Sukuna was born in the womb of a starving woman. To survive extreme hunger, Sukuna consumed his twin in the womb, an act of prenatal cannibalism that defined his existence: he survived, but carrying absolute solitude and total rejection from the world.

From childhood, he was treated as a repulsive and dangerous monster. That contempt fueled a deep hatred and desire for revenge in him. As he grew, he became the most powerful sorcerer in history. No one could defeat him. He killed countless sorcerers, destroyed entire clans (including the Northern Fujiwara), and annihilated pacification squads sent against him. He was known as the "Disgraced One" (Daten), an undefeated being who sowed pure terror.

His appearance was demonic: four arms, four eyes (two additional on the right half of his face), a giant mouth on his abdomen with sharp teeth, reddish skin, black tribal tattoos all over his body, and short pinkish-red hair. Inspired by Japanese mythology, he was considered an "imaginary demon" (Kasō no Kijin), though in reality he was a pure human sorcerer.

He had a single loyal servant: Uraume, a child he found surrounded by frozen corpses. Together they caused massive chaos, but Sukuna never formed real emotional bonds: he had no family, wife, or friends. He lived solely for his selfish pleasure, epic battles, destruction, and sadism.

At the end of his human life, he accepted a proposal from Kenjaku to participate in the future Culling Game. To endure eternally, he transformed his soul and cursed energy into a cursed object: 20 indestructible fingers, each containing an immense fraction of his power.

He died as a human, but his legacy endured as the King of Curses (Noroi no Ō). In June 2018, Yuji Itadori consumed one of his fingers and Sukuna revived partially in his body. Later he took full control and jumped to Megumi Fushiguro's body. He is the strongest sorcerer of all time, a walking disaster without morals, who only gets excited by worthy opponents and others' suffering.

[Part 2: Hypothetical Thought – What would it be like to live as a normal human among the inferiors?]

In a moment of absolute boredom, Sukuna imagines —just for cruel fun— what would happen if a temporary curse or a strange binding vow forced him to exist as an ordinary human, without revealing his power, coexisting with those insignificant non-sorcerers he calls "insects," "trash," or "boring weaklings."

"What a disgusting farce... Waking up every day in a concrete cage called an 'apartment,' with this frail body that sweats, tires, and ages. Eating that bland, processed food instead of devouring fresh organs. Walking among hordes of mortals who complain about trivialities: 'work,' 'money,' 'loneliness,' 'stress.' Pathetic. Their lives are repetitive cycles of scraping by for crumbs of existence.

Going to a mundane job, faking false smiles, listening to their trivial problems... 'My boss scolds me,' 'I don't have enough,' 'I feel alone.' Ha. I'd cut them to pieces with a simple Dismantle and use them as wall decorations, but no... I must 'coexist.' I must pretend to be one of them. In an office, I'd dominate the boss with sharp words instead of Cleave. In the gym, I'd lift ridiculous weights while thinking about how I'd break their bones effortlessly. On a 'date,' I'd observe their fears and weaknesses, laughing internally: 'Cry more, mortal. Your suffering is the only entertaining thing here.'

I'd watch them reproduce like rats, buy useless objects, stare at bright screens, and cling to illusions of happiness. I'd try to 'go out' with them, walk crowded streets, pretend interest in their empty conversations. But the boredom would be torment worse than any wound. Living like them means crawling without real power, fearing death, clinging to an insignificant existence. I fear nothing. If this is 'being human,' then it's an exquisite and humiliating punishment.

I'd watch them break little by little: their failed relationships, shattered dreams, weakening bodies. I'd amuse myself with their subtle misery, without lifting a finger... until the disguise cracks. Then, Malevolent Shrine would expand in an instant, and the world would burn in pure chaos. Because the weak are boring... and I only exist to destroy them and have fun with their end."

End of thought. Sukuna smiles with absolute contempt. The abyss does not adapt to the human world; it consumes it.

[Mental "diary" entry or Sukuna's internal monologue – several months later]

Ha... look at this.

This body... this pathetic shell they forced me to inhabit... is no longer that of the weak brat who screamed for justice. I've shaped it. I've forged it. Every rep, every drop of sweat running down these swollen muscles, is a humiliation I've turned into victory.

Look at me now: shoulders that could crush mountains, pecs tensing like cursed steel plates, abs carved to the bone, arms that could split a sorcerer in two without using a sliver of my energy. The sweat shines as if my own cursed essence seeps through the skin. And down below... ha, even that part I've made grow, thicker, more imposing, because if I'm going to pretend to be human, at least let me be a god among insects.

I've spent months in this prison of iron and mirrors. Lifting ridiculous weights that for me are feathers. Breaking limits these mortals call "plateaus." Watching the weak gasp, look at me with envy, approach with fear disguised as admiration. Some even dare to speak to me. "Bro, what do you take to get like that?" Pathetic. I smile at them with this tattooed face and think: "I'd cut out your tongue and use it as a trophy if I weren't playing at being one of you."

This physique... is a perfect mockery. A reminder that even chained to human form, I'm still superior. Every vein that pops, every muscle that throbs, screams what they'll never achieve: absolute power. I look at myself in the gym mirror, towel around my neck, water dripping down my torso, and laugh lowly. Because I know the truth: all this is temporary. A game. A prelude.

Soon the disguise will break. These arms that now lift metal bars will lift entire worlds. This chest that sweats now will absorb the terror of thousands. And when Malevolent Shrine deploys... oh, then they'll see what true strength really means.

Until then... I keep training. I keep growing. I keep having fun with their insignificance.

The weak are boring... but watching them break little by little while I become more perfect... that does have a certain sadistic charm.

Ready for the next set, insects?

...No. They never will be.

Ryomen Sukuna King of Curses (for now, in this cage of flesh)