The atmosphere shifted instantly.
A thick, oily black light surged from Yuta’s shadow, spilling across the floor like a rising tide.
It climbed the walls, staining the room in an unnatural darkness.
Though the sun was blazing outside, not a single ray could penetrate the classroom; light was simply not permitted in this space.
Reacting to Minamoto’s warning, Maki tried to wrench her naginata back, but she was a second too late.
In a heartbeat, a pressure as vast as the abyss came crashing down.
An icy dread crept into the trio’s marrow, their blood freezing under the weight of an all-consuming terror.
It felt as though an invisible hand had tightened around their hearts.
Cold sweat poured down their faces.
What kind of twisted, profane energy is this?!
From the void, a pair of massive, ghastly white hands manifested.
They lunged forward, snatching Maki’s naginata with effortless strength.
With a violent jerk, the weapon was ripped from her grasp.
One hand then swelled in size, casting a shadow over the three students, pinning them in place with sheer killing intent.
They couldn’t even twitch.
Maki had once asked Gojo Satoru what a Special Grade Cursed Spirit was actually like.
Gojo had only given her a mysterious smile and said, “You’ll know it when you see it—though it makes no difference to me, of course.” Now she knew.
Although only a pair of hands had manifested, they eclipsed every curse she had ever encountered.
The sheer volume of cursed energy and the suffocating sense of presence belonged to a being on a completely different evolutionary plane.
It was a creature of unparalleled malice, danger, and terrifying majesty.
So this is a Special Grade…
Dammit.
Sorry, Mai.
Looks like your big sister is checking out early.
In that moment of total eclipse, any thought of resistance vanished from their minds.
“[Rho Aias]!” Minamoto finally made his move.
Rika was clearly overreacting—Gojo had spent the entire night talking to Yuta, and apparently, she was jealous.
And there is nothing more bitter than the jealousy of a possessive spirit!
Gojo, for his part, seemed content to treat this as a test.
They were close enough to the hospital that as long as they didn’t die instantly, Shoko Ieiri could stitch them back together.
As for scarring?
Well, they were sorcerers; as long as they were breathing, it was a win.
Minamoto stepped in front of the trio, his right hand outstretched.
A brilliant, translucent purple flower bloomed into existence before them.
He could only project three layers, but this was the fruit of a grueling all-nighter!
Behold the triumph of the sleep-deprived!
In the Greek myths of the Trojan War, this was the shield of Ajax—a bronze shield covered in seven layers of oxhide.
It had famously halted Hector’s spear; though six layers were pierced, the seventh held firm.
It had since been sublimated into a [Concept Armament] providing absolute defense against thrown weapons.
However, even Rho Aias wouldn’t last long against the raw fury of Rika’s hands.
In the blink of an eye, two layers shattered into crystalline shards.
Only the final layer remained, trembling under the strain.
It wasn’t just the physical power of Rika’s strike; it was the overwhelming, hellish miasma that sapped the strength of anyone caught in its wake.
Yuta Okkotsu suddenly snapped out of his trance.
“Stop it, Rika!
No!
They’re my friends!
They aren’t going to hurt me!” “Yuta…
you have to play with Rika later, okay?” Rika’s voice echoed through the room.
It carried the innocent, high-pitched warble of a young girl, yet it struck a primal chord of horror in everyone who heard it.
With a casual flick of her hand, she swatted away the final layer of the shield.
“Rika likes flowers…
but Rika likes red ones best.” The four students slumped to the floor, panting.
Hearing Rika’s parting words, Minamoto could only manage a wry, exhausted smile.
“Well…
I’m honored, I guess.” Playing with Rika…
That was a “blessing” only Yuta Okkotsu could survive.
Yuta stood there, trembling and helpless, not knowing where to put his hands.
He had nearly pulverized his classmates on his very first day.
I’m going to be an outcast forever, he thought despairingly.
Seeing that the storm had passed, Gojo Satoru decided to make his re-entry.
“Ta-da!
A superstar arrives!
And that’s the gist of it!
This is Yuta Okkotsu-kun, the boy cursed by his beloved Rika—everyone, play nice!!” The four students scrambled up from the floor, glares fixed on their teacher.
You really should have led with that information, you idiot!
Gojo, as usual, was blissfully oblivious to the atmosphere.
“Mina-san, if you attack Yuta, you might trigger Rika’s curse.
So, whatever you do, be careful!” He looked at their murderous expressions and put on a mock-hurt face.
“Don’t look at me like that.
What kind of hidden agenda could your dear teacher possibly have?
Is it so wrong that I wanted to take a few photos to show the second-years later?” Yuta felt a sinking sensation in his gut.
This teacher…
was a bit of a jerk.
Gojo finished his “little walk” and clapped his hands.
“Since they’re all in their rebellious phase, I’ll handle the introductions.” After the brief formalities, Gojo produced a small party popper out of nowhere.
Pop!
“Congratulations, Minamoto!
You’ve been officially promoted to Grade 2.” Minamoto shrugged.
Exorcising wasn’t like playing cards; a higher rank didn’t automatically mean you’d win, and it didn’t grant a sudden power boost.
The only real difference was the paycheck—designated missions paid significantly better.
The trio remained unimpressed, even wondering why he hadn’t made Grade 1 yet.
Yuta, however, just looked confused.
Since Gojo clearly wasn’t going to explain, Minamoto took it upon himself to play mentor.
“Sorcerer grades go from four to one, with Grade 1 being the highest.
‘Special Grade’ is reserved for anomalies.
It should be on your student ID.” “Tch, what’s there to look at?” Maki muttered, still annoyed.
“He was a civilian yesterday; he’s obviously a Grade 4.” Yuta timidly pulled out his ID.
“Mine says…
Special Grade.
Is this a typo?” Maki snatched it from his hand, her eyes widening in disbelief.
“Are you kidding me?!
That means I’m the lowest-ranked person in the room!” Panda and Toge immediately flanked her, offering supportive pats on the back.
“Easy, Maki.
It makes sense.
With a curse like that, there’s no way they’d label him Grade 4.
Don’t give up on your dreams!” “Salmon (That’s right).” “Get off me, you idiots!
I’m not going to kill him!” Maki barked, pushing them away.
She wasn’t the type to need coddling.
Gojo clapped his hands again.
“Alright, Mina-san!
Listen up!
The First-Year Super Sentai is officially formed!
For this afternoon’s Practical Field Application, we’ll be working in pairs.” “Toge and Panda are Team A.
Maki and Yuta are Team B.
As for Minamoto…
you’re with me for ‘off-site support.’ Ah, being too strong really is a sin, isn’t it?” Gojo looked thrilled.
His “Four Kings” of the first-year class had grown into a five-man squad, though he seemed slightly disappointed that the “exclusive” vibe of a four-man team was gone.
Yuta looked at Maki, the terrifying “big sister” of the group, and felt like he was about to get punched at any second.
“P-Please…
take care of me.” Maki had zero patience for his stuttering.
She stared him down and spoke with brutal honesty.
“You’ve been bullied before, haven’t you?
Yeah, I thought so.
I’d probably bully you, too.
With that curse hanging over you, you’re walking around with this ‘I’m a good person’ face that’s honestly disgusting.” “Tch.” Maki looked away, still irritable.
“You’ve spent your whole life being passive, haven’t you?
Jujutsu High isn’t some daycare that lets you drift along without a purpose.” Panda patted Yuta’s shoulder.
“Maki, that’s enough!” “Katsuobushi!
(Don’t say that!)” Toge added, sounding genuinely annoyed for once.
“Fine, whatever,” Maki grumbled, scratching her head.
She realized she might have gone a bit too far.
Panda offered Yuta an apologetic look.
“Sorry about her.
Sometimes she thinks she understands people better than she actually does.” Before Yuta could respond, Minamoto threw an arm around his shoulder.
“What they said.
But don’t worry, Maki’s actually a total softie—she just has a foul mouth.” “Taira no Minamoto!
I’m going to kill you!” Maki had been read like a book.
Minamoto took one look at Maki charging toward him with her naginata and bolted.
“Haha!
Maki’s blushing!” “Are they children?
So childish,” Panda sighed.
“Salmon (Right?)” Toge agreed.
“But hey,” Gojo mused, entering his ‘youthful drama’ mode again.
“A painful youth is still youth!” “…No,” Yuta whispered softly, watching them.
“Gojo-sensei…
she’s right.”