“Come on in.
This is your room from now on.”
“As long as you don’t stir up any trouble, it’s very safe here with me!”
Shoko Ieiri beamed at Ronawa with the benevolent, slightly unsettling smile of an overly affectionate aunt.
Ronawa nodded gently, completely oblivious to the fact that, from now on, the most dangerous person in her life would actually be Shoko Ieiri.
Once Ronawa’s living arrangements were settled, Shoko tracked Gojo down.
“Tell me her exact situation.
You aren’t still trying to hide things from me at this point, are you?”
Since things had progressed this far, there was naturally no need to hide anything from Shoko anymore.
Gojo quickly brought her up to speed on Ronawa’s true identity.
After hearing the full explanation, Shoko had only one thought.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I always knew you were a piece of trash, but I never pegged you for an actual lunatic.”
Back when Shoko was a student at Jujutsu High, she had been incredibly close with Gojo and Geto, affectionately referring to the duo as “the trash.”
After graduation, she used the term far less frequently.
Hearing her bring it back now was a clear indicator of just how hard it was for her to maintain her composure.
Not that anyone could blame her.
Ronawa’s origins were simply too absurd.
Forget the fact that she was a Special Grade cursed spirit.
As a woman who had mastered Reverse Cursed Technique, Shoko was obviously no slouch herself; the mere existence of a Special Grade wasn’t enough to make her lose her cool.
But the title “Cursed Spirit of Death” was just way over the line.
How in the world did an abstract concept like death spawn a cursed spirit?
Okay, fine.
Cursed spirits were abstract to begin with.
An even more abstract cursed spirit being born wasn’t completely impossible.
But for a cursed spirit that anyone with half a brain could see would become utterly unstoppable in the future…
what kind of twisted logic led Gojo to not exorcise it?
He wasn’t just not exorcising her; he was actively raising her.
Did he really think he was so invincible that he needed to hand-rear his own rival just for the thrill of it?
Looking at the slightly awkward expression on Gojo’s face, Shoko knew she had hit the nail on the head.
He really was thinking exactly that.
He genuinely felt he had been invincible for too long and was too lonely, so he wanted to raise a worthy opponent just for entertainment.
This kind of mindset was so ridiculous it actually made Shoko laugh.
Faced with Shoko’s relentless questioning, Gojo had his justifications ready.
“I admit, there’s definitely a gambling element to my approach,” he explained.
“But I clearly won the bet, didn’t I?”
“You’re only looking at her identity as the Cursed Spirit of Death, but you’re forgetting that she’s fundamentally a good kid.”
“I’ve observed her very closely.
She never actively manufactures death.
She always remains a bystander, merely witnessing it.” This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“Besides, can you guarantee that the next Cursed Spirit of Death will have a personality as agreeable as Ronawa’s?”
In that moment, even Shoko had to admit Gojo had a point.
Cursed spirits could be killed, but the fear that birthed them could not.
Which meant that as long as humanity continued to fear death, another Cursed Spirit of Death would eventually be born.
And who could guarantee that the next one would be as easy to talk to as Ronawa?
What if the next Cursed Spirit of Death was a homicidal maniac obsessed with manufacturing its own kills?
While it was incredibly rare for abstract conceptual fears like “death” to condense into a cursed spirit, Ronawa was standing right here in this house.
Who was bold enough to say it wouldn’t happen again?
Following Gojo’s explanation, Shoko reluctantly accepted his reasoning.
Okay, fine.
The main reason she accepted it was because she had been entirely captivated by Ronawa’s looks and blinded by her beauty.
As a massive simp for pretty faces, Shoko fundamentally lacked the willpower to refuse a girl like Ronawa.
After running through a few more details, Gojo was promptly kicked out by Shoko.
Leaving only Ronawa and Shoko alone in the apartment.
Just as Ronawa was racking her brain on how to build a good relationship with this older, brunette woman and successfully secure her position as a freeloader, she found she didn’t even need to open her mouth.
Shoko spoon-fed the free ride right to her.
“Ronawa, is it okay if I call you Roro?”
“Of course, Shoko-nee.”
A single “big sister” easily conquered Shoko Ieiri.
Ronawa’s sheer physical charm was simply irresistible.
However, sometimes being too charming wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
A few hours later.
Ronawa was playing the role of a lifeless cosplay doll, completely dead inside as she let Shoko play dress-up with her.
In Shoko’s words, failing to properly dress a girl with Ronawa’s level of beauty and figure was an absolute crime against humanity.
Did an idiot like Satoru Gojo know anything about aesthetics?
The clothes he picked out for her were a complete eyesore!
This required Shoko’s personal touch.
For Ronawa, however, this was pure torture.
Her mindset regarding clothes was fixed: as long as they fit and weren’t dirty, they were fine.
She had absolutely no concept of fashion or dressing up.
Yet she was forcefully dragged out window-shopping and clothes-buying by Shoko, only to return home and immediately begin a marathon dress-up session.
She was completely numb.
But once the marathon ended and she looked at herself in the mirror…
Ronawa suddenly felt that, actually, dressing up wasn’t so bad after all.
While Ronawa and Shoko were busy playing Miracle Ro-Ro, the outside world had already been turned entirely upside down because of her.
Ever since he witnessed Ronawa escape right in front of his eyes—achieving spatial teleportation by literally killing the concept of “distance”—he had gained a crystal-clear understanding of her potential.
Without a doubt, she was the strongest cursed spirit in history.
As long as she grew safely to maturity, Ronawa would absolutely possess the power to single-handedly overthrow the entire world.
Wasn’t a super-curse like this the perfect assistant for his grand plan?
Because of this, Geto even altered his existing strategies.
Originally, he had planned to make contact with Yuta Okkotsu to see if he could join forces and utilize the power of the “Queen of Curses” tied to him.
But now?
Screw the Queen of Curses.
Ronawa was the true King of Curses!
If he could just recruit her to his side, how could his plan possibly fail?
Aside from Suguru Geto, the higher-ups of the jujutsu world had also summoned Satoru Gojo.
They immediately began interrogating him.
“What exactly is the situation with that Special Grade cursed spirit?!”
“What fear does she represent, and what are her abilities?!”
Gojo simply spread his hands in feigned ignorance.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.
What Special Grade cursed spirit?
Didn’t I already exorcise that Special Grade?”
Looking at Gojo’s shameless, rogue-like behavior, the higher-ups were ready to die of sheer anger.
You could say Satoru Gojo was perfect in every way, except for the one detail that he never listened to orders.
Dealing with such a disobedient thorn in their side sometimes made the higher-ups genuinely regret not having him eliminated when he was younger.
But it was far too late for regrets now.
Gojo had already fully matured into a monster.
They had no choice but to endure it.
Ultimately, this interrogation ended in complete failure.
Before Gojo left, the higher-ups threw down a final, harsh threat.
“How long do you think you can hide her?”
“We will find her very soon, and we will thoroughly exorcise her!
You won’t be able to protect her!”
Gojo paused mid-step and slowly turned around.
The higher-ups assumed he would be furious at the threat.
They had no idea he was actually smiling.
“You say that like you guys can actually beat her in a fight,” he sneered disdainfully.
Just because he could beat Ronawa didn’t mean anyone else could.
It would require at least a Special Grade sorcerer to even stand a chance.
Anyone below Special Grade trying to fight Ronawa was essentially just delivering themselves on a silver platter.
Even an immature Special Grade cursed spirit was still a Special Grade.
She wasn’t something that any random piece of trash could casually step to.