Sherlock had no idea what happened in Yaga Masamichi’s office.
Unlike Gojo Satoru, Sherlock couldn’t use Reverse Cursed Technique.
He wasn’t capable of taking two Black Flashes and then walking around like nothing had happened.
In fact, one solid elbow from Gojo had been enough to knock him completely unconscious.
By the time Sherlock woke up again, it was already early the next morning.
And, unsurprisingly, he was lying in Shoko’s infirmary.
He stared at the familiar ceiling in a daze.
Even now, the sensation left behind by Black Flash still seemed to linger somewhere deep inside him.
It was intoxicating.
That saying about sorcerers who had experienced Black Flash and those who hadn’t practically belonging to two different worlds?
Sherlock finally understood it.
In his opinion, Black Flash wasn’t powerful merely because it increased the destructive force of an attack.
Nor was it just about gaining finer cursed energy control, deepening one’s understanding of cursed energy, or entering a temporary heightened state.
The real value of Black Flash came afterward.
Once you’d experienced that instant and truly touched the essence of cursed energy…
You had a ticket through the door.
Yuji had eventually reached the point where Black Flash almost looked like a normal attack for him.
That alone proved something important to Sherlock.
Black Flash couldn’t possibly be pure luck.
There had to be a repeatable principle behind it.
Something that could be trained.
The two hardest parts were actually simple to describe.
First, you had to land a Black Flash at least once.
Second, you had to genuinely believe that Black Flash was a reproducible skill rather than some random critical hit handed out by chance.
One was the breakthrough from zero to one.
The other was tearing down a belief that had been carved into people’s minds by convention.
Without both, reproducing Yuji’s absurd consistency would be almost impossible.
Sherlock, however, had an unfair advantage.
As a transmigrator, he already knew what should theoretically be possible.
And now he’d personally landed Black Flash.
Twice.
All he had to do was remember that sensation, practice around it, and eventually turn it into instinct.
There was really only one part Sherlock didn’t want to think about.
The reason he’d entered the zone in the first place.
Missing a fan event.
Sherlock might be shamelessly devoted to those events, but he absolutely did not want the entire jujutsu world knowing that missing one had emotionally devastated him badly enough to unlock Black Flash.
The good news was that Tokyo Jujutsu High barely had any women around besides Shoko.
So at least Sherlock didn’t have to worry about this ruining his romantic prospects.
His glorious future as the protagonist of an absurd harem webnovel remained intact.
Probably.
The bad news…
Well.
Shoko brought the bad news personally.
Sherlock had only just finished reassuring himself when the infirmary door opened.
Shoko walked in wearing her white coat.
The instant she saw that Sherlock was awake, a strangely amused smile appeared on her face.
“Congratulations, Sherlock.” Sherlock immediately became suspicious.
Shoko continued.
“The story about you fighting Gojo Satoru because you missed a fan event and then landing Black Flash has already spread through the entire jujutsu world.” “…” Sherlock stared at her.
Three enormous question marks might as well have appeared above his head.
What the hell?!
Was there some supernatural version of bad news travels fast built into jujutsu society?
So he’d landed Black Flash.
Big deal!
Okay, fine, he’d landed two in a row.
But did that really justify this level of attention?!
Shoko took one look at Sherlock’s increasingly distorted expression and immediately guessed what he was thinking.
Her smile became noticeably more malicious.
She lit a cigarette.
“Don’t look so surprised.” Smoke drifted lazily upward.
“Gojo Satoru’s first student landing Black Flash wouldn’t be especially shocking.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes.
“But Gojo Satoru’s first student landing two consecutive Black Flashes because he missed a fan event?” Shoko’s smile widened.
“While using Gojo himself as the punching bag?” “That’s memorable.” Sherlock pulled the blanket over half his face.
Shoko paused.
Then her expression became a little more serious.
“Besides, Sherlock…” She exhaled slowly.
“A lot of people are watching you.” Sherlock fell silent.
Shoko hadn’t said much.
She didn’t need to.
Sherlock had spent enough time in the jujutsu world to understand.
The Three Great Families.
The conservative higher-ups.
Curse users.
Possibly even intelligent curses.
Nearly everyone with influence kept an eye on Gojo Satoru.
And outside the Gojo family itself, Sherlock was now probably the person most closely connected to him.
There was no way those eyes wouldn’t eventually settle on Sherlock too.
Shoko watched him quietly.
Once she was sure he’d understood the warning, she changed the subject.
Her teasing smile returned.
“But you don’t need to worry too much.” Sherlock looked up.
“The higher-ups have made a decision.” “That sentence has never made me feel better.” Shoko ignored him.
“From now on, your missions will be merged with Gojo’s.” Sherlock froze.
“In other words…” Shoko rested her cheek against one hand.
“Gojo Satoru will be taking you everywhere with him.” “One-on-one instruction.” “Every day.” “Aren’t you lucky?” Thunder seemed to crash through Sherlock’s skull.
His world collapsed.
“No.” Sherlock knew Gojo.
Far too well.
There was absolutely no chance this arrangement was going to benefit him.
That damned white-haired cat would work him to death!
Sherlock could already see his future.
Gojo would dump his own missions onto him.
Then Sherlock would somehow have to squeeze in time to complete his actual Grade 2 assignments.
And whenever Gojo got lazy, Sherlock would inevitably become his personal errand boy.
Before transmigrating, Sherlock had already lived the miserable life of an overworked wage slave.
After transmigrating…
He was going to become a supernatural wage slave?!
Then what had been the point of transmigrating at all?!
Sherlock stared blankly at the ceiling for a long time.
Finally, he asked in a hollow voice, “Can I refuse?” Shoko didn’t answer.
She simply sat there smoking, watching him with an expression that told Sherlock everything he needed to know.
Sherlock slowly closed his eyes.
Despair filled the infirmary.
“Aw~” A sickeningly sweet voice suddenly floated through the room.
“Does Sherlock-kun really hate Gojo-chan that much?” Sherlock’s eyes snapped open.
Shoko’s expression immediately darkened.
Gojo’s cutesy schoolgirl imitation continued from somewhere nearby.
“Gojo-chan was soooo considerate last night, too~” “I even turned off Infinity and took two whole Black Flashes from Sherlock-kun~” Shoko whirled around.
“GOJO SATORU!” Gojo casually stepped into view, sunglasses on, wearing the most obnoxiously cute expression imaginable.
“Use the damn door!” Sherlock slowly emerged from beneath the blanket.
He stared at his teacher.
Then, with all the patience of a man negotiating his own execution, Sherlock spoke.
“If you can swear that working with you means you won’t make me run errands…” Gojo blinked.
“Won’t dump your missions on me…” Gojo’s smile stiffened.
“And won’t make me squeeze my own missions into whatever scraps of free time you leave me…” Sherlock narrowed his eyes.
“Then I actually don’t mind going on missions with you.” Silence.
Complete silence.
Gojo said nothing.
Sherlock stared.
Gojo stared back.
“…” Sherlock’s eye twitched.
“Say something.” Gojo remained silent.
A vein appeared on Sherlock’s forehead.
“You bastard.” Still nothing.
“ANSWER ME!” Sherlock finally snapped.
He threw off the blanket, launched himself from the bed, and latched onto Gojo like an enraged animal.
Then he tried to bite him directly on the head.
Unfortunately, Infinity stopped Sherlock’s teeth several centimeters away.
He gnawed furiously at empty space.
Gojo completely ignored the student hanging from his body and desperately trying to bite his skull.
Instead, he turned toward Shoko.
“Anyway, we’re leaving.” Shoko stared at him.
Gojo waved cheerfully.
“Bye, Shoko~” Then he walked straight out of the infirmary with Sherlock still attached to him.
“LET ME GO!” “Nope.” “I’M NOT DOING YOUR MISSIONS!” “We’ll talk about it~” “THAT MEANS YES!” Their voices gradually faded down the hallway.
Shoko watched them disappear.
After a moment, she sighed and shook her head.
But the small smile at the corner of her mouth never quite vanished.
Ever since Suguru Geto left…
Tokyo Jujutsu High hadn’t felt this lively in a very long time.