When you first step into that lifeless village, the smell of blood mixed with damp earth hits you. Dried organs hang from the eaves, and massive claw marks scar the ground. Your companions draw their cursed tools and whisper something that sends a chill down your spine—'These marks look like Sukuna's handiwork.' You grip your cursed tool tightly, realizing for the first time that in this era, the weak don't even leave corpses behind.