Sherlock knew nothing about the conversation between Gojo Satoru and Masamichi Yaga.
After returning to his dorm, he unpacked the souvenirs he’d brought back from Hokkaido, flopped onto his bed, and began reviewing everything that had happened during his so-called grading mission.
One fact was already obvious.
The higher-ups couldn’t be trusted to provide accurate intelligence.
Shoko had confirmed that much herself.
But unreliable mission reports and the general untrustworthiness of those conservative old fossils weren’t the only problems Sherlock had uncovered.
Nearly dying had exposed plenty of weaknesses in his own fighting style as well.
The first was his weapon.
Sayafushi was an excellent cursed tool.
But it clearly wasn’t suited to Sherlock.
At his current level, its sharpness allowed him to use attacks like the Flying Thunder God Slash effectively.
The problem was that carrying a katana also limited the greatest strength of Flying Thunder God.
Mobility.
It was like giving an assassin a longsword and expecting him to fight like a frontline warrior.
Sure, the weapon increased his offensive power.
But it came at the cost of flexibility.
Fortunately, Sherlock already had a source of inspiration.
Anime.
Flying Thunder God had originally been created by the Second Hokage, but the Fourth Hokage was the one who had pushed its mobility to an entirely different level.
With a ready-made example sitting right in front of him, Sherlock didn’t hesitate for long.
He decided to abandon Sayafushi.
Instead of following Tobirama’s heavier combat style, Sherlock would lean fully into Minato’s approach and squeeze every possible advantage out of Flying Thunder God’s speed and freedom of movement.
After all, not every mission would conveniently give Sherlock enough time to cover the entire battlefield in marks before a fight began.
Without prepared marks, Flying Thunder God’s combat value dropped dramatically.
Outside of escaping, there wouldn’t be much he could do with it.
And now that Sherlock had already been dragged into the jujutsu world, he knew things were only going to become more dangerous.
Whether he was dealing with the higher-ups or trying to survive whatever disasters awaited him in the future, he needed to choose a direction for his growth.
Then he needed to become stronger as quickly as possible.
Sherlock spent almost an entire day thinking about it.
Early the next morning, he found Gojo.
With unusual seriousness, Sherlock returned Sayafushi to him.
Then he requested a day off.
Gojo approved it without asking why.
Sherlock left Jujutsu High and disappeared for the entire day.
He didn’t return until noon the following day.
And when he did, he was carrying a large cardboard box.
Gojo hadn’t asked where Sherlock was going when he’d taken leave.
He hadn’t even tried to follow him.
For all his terrible habits, Gojo gave his student an almost unreasonable amount of trust.
But the moment Sherlock returned carrying a mysterious box?
That trust immediately lost to curiosity.
Gojo followed him straight back to the dorm.
Sherlock had barely opened the box and begun sorting through its contents when Gojo barged into the room.
Sherlock’s face instantly changed.
“Wait!” Too late.
Ignoring Sherlock’s obvious panic, Gojo crouched beside the box and started digging through everything inside.
Most of the contents were custom-made weapons.
Several dozen compact spikes.
Two stainless-steel knuckle guards.
None of them were cursed tools.
They were ordinary factory-made weapons commissioned to Sherlock’s specifications.
The spikes were roughly twenty centimeters long and less than a centimeter wide.
Each had an eleven-centimeter, six-sided point with intentionally dull cutting edges along two sides.
They were primarily designed for thrusting, but the shape still gave them enough cutting ability to function as crude daggers in an emergency.
The knuckle guards were heavier.
Instead of traditional brass knuckles with a full palm brace, Sherlock had chosen a compact design that protected the front of the fist while leaving most of his hand free.
Even while wearing them, he could still grip and throw the spikes without much difficulty.
With Gojo’s combat experience, it took him only a glance to understand exactly what Sherlock was planning.
Flying Thunder God was incredibly versatile.
It was also extremely difficult to master.
And Sherlock still lacked a reliable finishing attack.
In Gojo’s original plan, the fastest route to improvement had been using powerful cursed tools to compensate.
That was why he’d given Sherlock Sayafushi.
Gojo’s ideal version of Sherlock’s fighting style had been something between Tobirama and Minato.
Throw smaller weapons to establish teleportation points.
Then use a longer cursed weapon like Sayafushi to finish enemies once an opening appeared.
It sacrificed some mobility, but in return Sherlock gained reliable offensive power.
For his current level, it was probably the safest route.
Sherlock had rejected it.
Completely.
He’d chosen to imitate the Fourth Hokage almost exclusively.
Maximum mobility.
Constant repositioning.
No cumbersome long weapon.
His own body would become his primary method of attacking once he reached his opponent.
There was only one serious problem.
Cursed energy wasn’t chakra.
Sherlock couldn’t simply create something like the Rasengan to give himself a devastating close-range attack.
That meant this style lacked a true finishing blow.
But when Gojo looked at the reinforced knuckle guards…
He understood.
Sherlock had already thought of that too.
Black Flash.
Gojo’s eyes narrowed slightly.
That wasn’t an easy path.
There were sorcerers who could spend their entire lives without ever landing a Black Flash.
And Sherlock was arguably even less suited to learning it than most.
Flying Thunder God gave him a perfect escape route at almost any moment.
Black Flash, meanwhile, demanded absolute commitment.
Complete concentration.
A moment where body, cursed energy, timing, and instinct aligned perfectly.
Having an emergency exit constantly available encouraged the exact opposite mindset.
Gojo’s original plan would have been easier.
Safer.
More reliable.
Yet Sherlock had deliberately chosen the harder route.
For once, Gojo felt genuinely proud.
His student had thought through his weaknesses and decided what kind of sorcerer he wanted to become.
Sherlock, however, couldn’t have cared less about the look of approval on his teacher’s face.
He was panicking.
Of course Gojo could understand his combat plan.
The man had the Six Eyes and more fighting experience than Sherlock could dream of.
That wasn’t what Sherlock was worried about.
The problem was what was underneath the weapons.
At the very bottom of the box…
Were several brand-new limited-edition collector’s releases from Sherlock’s favorite performers.
Sherlock had gone through hell to get them.
The custom weapons had taken him maybe three hours to arrange.
Everything else he’d done during his day off?
That had been dedicated to hunting down this collaboration release.
There was a reason.
A special promotion had hidden invitations to an exclusive fan appreciation event inside a tiny number of packages.
And this wasn’t just any collaboration.
It featured both of Sherlock’s favorites.
A glamorous gyaru-style model and a short-haired mature beauty.
Two favorites.
One event.
Maximum value.
Sherlock had thrown almost all of the compensation money he had left into buying copies from stores all across Tokyo.
Because he had a feeling.
A powerful feeling.
Somewhere inside the mountain of collector’s editions he’d gathered…
One of the three ultra-rare invitations had to be waiting for him.
He could feel it!
There was absolutely no way he could let Gojo ruin this.
Not after everything he’d spent.
Not after visiting half the stores in Tokyo.
And definitely not when this was a limited collaboration event!
One purchase.
Double the happiness!
Unfortunately, Sherlock’s naked panic immediately caught Gojo’s attention.
His teacher’s smile slowly widened.
Sherlock lunged for the box.
Gojo casually wrapped the entire thing in Infinity.
Sherlock’s hands stopped short.
“No.” Gojo’s grin became brighter.
“No, no, no.” “Aw~ Sherlock-kun.” Gojo lifted the box.
“You’ve finally stopped wasting your life lying around all day!” Sherlock’s face went pale.
“As the greatest teacher alive, Gojo-sensei has decided to reward his hardworking student with a wonderful surprise!” “GOJO.” Sherlock’s voice trembled.
“Put the box down.” Gojo ignored him completely.
Then, under Sherlock’s horrified stare, he opened the dorm-room window.
“Sensei.” Gojo stepped onto the windowsill.
“Sensei, we can talk about this.” Gojo jumped.
Sherlock rushed to the window.
Gojo was already floating outside.
“GOJO SATORU!” Space distorted.
The white-haired menace vanished.
Along with the box.
Sherlock stared at the empty sky.
For one horrible second, his mind simply stopped.
Then his knees hit the floor.
His hands rose toward the sky.
And from the depths of his soul came a scream filled with more anguish than anything he’d experienced during his Grade 1 mission.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”