I am Overhaul in Jujutsu Kaisen World

A Kitten.

Yes, it was a kitten he saw.

The small feline strode calmly toward Sayuri's body, nose low to the ground.

Miguel might have laughed. After all, it was just a cat, right? But he didn't. There was something about the creature's gaze… those luminous, almost phosphorescent eyes. They held a depth of awareness far beyond that of an ordinary animal.

And then, defying all logic, the kitten spoke.

"Who sent you, wretch?"

Miguel reacted instinctively. He slammed his heel against the ground with controlled power. Energy erupted from the point of impact, blasting chunks of stone into the air. Without missing a beat, he seized one of the largest fragments and hurled it toward the kitten.

The chunk of rock soared through the air, bridging the distance between them… but it never made contact.

Before it could strike, the projectile shattered into countless shards, crumbling into fine dust that scattered in the breeze.

Miguel wasted no time. He spun on his heels and took off, sprinting with the agility of a trained athlete.

As he darted deeper into the dark alleys, nothing could slow him—barrels, fences, even walls became footholds or launch points as he raced past them. His breathing turned ragged as he finally reached the edge of the city. Here, the cobbled streets gave way to a dense, shadowy forest.

He plunged into the trees, weaving through the thickets until he found an ancient tree with gnarled roots. Pressing his back against it, Miguel gasped for air, trying desperately to steady the frantic beating of his heart.

"What… what the hell was that thing?" he whispered to himself, struggling to make sense of it all.

For a moment, silence reigned. Only the soft rustling of leaves above broke the stillness. Then he felt it—a faint breath of air brushing the back of his neck.

His instincts screamed.

Miguel dove to the side, just as razor-sharp claws slashed through the space he had occupied seconds ago. The tree trunk behind him bore a deep gash, bark and wood splintering in all directions.

Rolling across the ground, Miguel clenched his fists around his rope weapon. Another flurry of attacks tore through the air—claws, swift and merciless, carving into the void mere inches from him as he dodged.

"Damn it!" he spat, retreating further toward a wooded hill.

When he reached the summit, he froze in his tracks.

There it was again. The kitten.

The same one.

Sitting there, utterly calm, its tail flicking lazily against the earth.

A cold sweat trickled down Miguel's face. His fist tightened, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"What are you?!" he growled.

The kitten slowly turned its head, those gleaming eyes locking onto his. It tilted its head ever so slightly, almost mockingly.

Miguel's grip on his rope tightened, his muscles coiled like a spring.

"To hell with this…"

He narrowed his eyes, studying the kitten perched at the hilltop. Everything about it was unsettling: its eerie calm, those glowing eyes, and most of all, the commanding voice that felt profoundly wrong coming from such a tiny creature.

Miguel was no amateur. He'd battled entities that made mountains tremble, creatures born from humanity's darkest nightmares. Yet this kitten... This tiny, unassuming thing radiated a tension he had never experienced before.

"Alright then… What's your deal, huh?" Miguel said, stepping forward, his gaze never leaving the kitten. "You some kind of plague? An incarnate?"

"If you're still standing," the kitten replied, its voice deep and resonant—a stark contrast to its fragile appearance—"it's only because I allow it."

Miguel raised an eyebrow. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—wide, deliberate, revealing a row of perfectly aligned teeth.

"Right… sure," he chuckled, his hand tightening slightly around his whip. "I've fought self-proclaimed gods, monsters capable of leveling entire cities, and now you want me to believe you—a kitten—are the deadliest thing I've ever faced?"

The kitten licked its paw with maddening composure, then lifted its head, a strange gleam in its eyes.

"Who sent you?" it asked, its voice calm but laced with menace. It paused, its gaze unblinking and locked on Miguel. "And why did you dare—"

Miguel didn't wait to hear the rest. In a flash, he whipped his weapon forward and launched himself, his body taut like an arrow in mid-flight. The whip cracked through the air, its tip aiming straight for the feline.

BOOM!

The hilltop erupted on impact. Rocks shattered and tumbled down the slopes in a cascade of debris. A thick cloud of dust engulfed the area, obscuring everything in its path.

Miguel emerged almost instantly, brushing off the dirt from his shoulders. Not a scratch on him, but his eyes darted through the chaos, scanning for movement.

"Playing hide-and-seek now, furball?" he taunted, voice sharp.

A flicker of movement within the dust cloud made him dive to the side. He rolled across the ground as a shadow lunged toward the spot he'd just vacated. There was no time to think. Another flurry of attacks came, faster than his eyes could follow, each a streak of white slashing violently through the air.

Miguel dodged the first strike, then the second. Every step, every twist of his body was a calculated move, barely evading the razor-sharp blows. But when a third strike came, he had no choice but to retaliate. His whip cracked again, slicing through the air with precision and intercepting the incoming attack.

His stomach tightened. What he'd thought were claws… weren't.

The kitten's real weapon was its tail. And it was anything but ordinary. Fluid like a snake, it extended and shifted with unnatural ease. Its tip had morphed into a deadly claw, long and razor-sharp, slicing cleanly through stone.

Miguel staggered back several steps, his hands gripping his whip like a lifeline.

"So that's your trick, huh?" he said, a lopsided grin playing on his lips. He twirled his whip in the air, its motion forming an arc as he prepared for the next attack. "Is this Ryosuke's handiwork? He's dangerous, I'll give him that… Makes sense the boss is worried about him."

The kitten's tail blurred again, striking like a shadow through the haze.

Miguel anticipated it this time, dodging to the side. But the tail defied logic, bending at an impossible angle mid-trajectory. Like a boomerang, it curved sharply and came right back at him.

Pain seared through Miguel's shoulder. His shirt tore as a crimson slash bloomed across his skin. He hissed, stumbling backward, his hand instinctively pressing against the wound.

It was deep—but not fatal.

"Nice hit," he muttered through gritted teeth, more to himself than his opponent. Yet his smile remained unshaken, his posture shifting subtly as he began to swing the whip in slow, calculated motions.

"Alright then," Miguel growled, his tone dripping with determination. "Looks like I'll have to tame you myself."

TO BE CONTINUED!

Next Chapter: We really Shouldn't Have... (3)