Principal Yaga spoke flatly, “Good morning, Minamoto.
It’s about time.
Come see me in a bit; for now, let Panda show you to the classroom.” With that, he turned and walked away.
Minamoto scratched his head, confused as to why Panda needed to lead the way.
He knew exactly where the classroom was—Gojo-sensei had given him the grand tour only yesterday.
Panda seemed to sense his confusion.
“We’re classmates, you know.
Masamichi just wants us to get familiar with each other early.
When we meet the others, help me explain things, okay?” Minamoto looked at the slightly over-excited Panda and thought to himself, Sorcerers deal with weird stuff every day.
Who’s going to be confused by a panda?
At most, they’ll be a little surprised.
What is there to explain?
The two of them—one boy, one panda—chatted as they left the training grounds and headed toward the classroom.
The building was thick with the scent of history; it looked like it had been standing since the Showa era.
A shock of white hair popped out of a second-story window.
It was Gojo Satoru.
Miraculously, he wasn’t late for once.
He waved enthusiastically.
“Minamoto!
Panda!
Hurry up!
It’s boring being in here by myself!” Minamoto and Panda gave a quiet acknowledgement.
Panda covered his mouth and whispered to Minamoto, “Don’t play along with Gojo-sensei’s antics too much.
He gets carried away.” They pushed open the sliding doors, and the first thing they saw was Gojo Satoru leaning against the teacher’s podium, trying his best to look cool.
Minamoto picked a seat at random.
As he pulled out his chair, he asked, “Gojo-sensei, where are your sunglasses?
It’s the first day; shouldn’t you wear them out of respect for the new students?
Also, how did a habitual offender like you manage to be on time?” Gojo replied lazily, “I just got back from an emergency mission last night.
My sunglasses broke, and my spares are back at the dorm.
I came straight here for my cute students.
We all know each other anyway, so what’s the point?
Besides, these bandages are way more comfortable.” Just as he finished speaking, the sliding door was pushed open—or rather, kicked open.
A tall girl in a black school uniform with a green ponytail marched in.
Behind her followed a boy with silver, spiky hair, his face obscured by a high collar.
He gave a small, muffled greeting: “Kelp.” Gojo, Minamoto, and Panda watched the duo’s flashy entrance with varying degrees of surprise.
Then, Gojo broke into a grin.
“Well then, that makes the first-year class complete.” He propped himself up on the podium.
“It seems you guys aren’t exactly best friends yet, but you’re at least acquaintances.
The jujutsu world is a small place; everyone’s connected somehow.
So, let me set the example with the first introduction.” “You all know me—I’m your beloved teacher, Gojo Satoru!
I love sweets, I’m a total heartthrob, and I’m a veteran otaku.
But none of that matters.
What matters is that I,” he paused, flashing a double peace sign in a mock-cute pose, “am the strongest!” Though it sounded like a joke, no one felt like laughing.
From everything they had heard and seen growing up, they knew with absolute certainty that this man was the undisputed ceiling of the world.
Minamoto went first.
“Cursed Tool User, Taira no Minamoto.
Semi-Grade 2.
I can project and utilize cursed tools.
My interests?
Same as Gojo-sensei—I’m a hardcore otaku.” “I’m Panda.
Grade 3.
Nice to meet you,” Panda said, raising a paw.
“Cursed Tool User, Zen’in Maki.
Grade 4.
I use specialized weapons to exorcise curses.
Also, call me Maki.
Don’t use my family name,” Maki stated firmly.
She still seemed annoyed, likely feeling she’d lost face by being grouped with a bunch of idiots.
“Ta-da!
Allow me to introduce this one,” Gojo jumped back in.
“Cursed Speech User, Grade 2, Inumaki Toge.
Because of his technique, his vocabulary is limited to rice ball ingredients.
You’ll have to work hard to communicate with him!” Inumaki Toge nodded expressionlessly.
“Salmon.” “The first-years have officially assembled!
Let’s get to work,” Gojo clapped his hands.
“First, we go see the Principal.
He has a mandatory interview process.
If you don’t pass, life is going to be very difficult for you.
Look sharp!” “Question,” Minamoto raised his hand.
“What happens if we fail?
Are we expelled?” Gojo made a terrifying face.
“Then you’ll have to endure my ‘special training’.” The group arrived at the base of a large pagoda.
Minamoto looked up; the towering structure reaching toward the clouds reminded him of the Tower of Babel from the Bible.
In the legends, people burned bricks and used tar for mortar to build a city and a tower in Babylon.
The top was meant to reach the heavens.
Everyone spoke the same language and worked together, building a city so beautiful and a tower so high it seemed to challenge God himself.
Back then, no one would ever get lost; every person on the plains could see the Great Tower.
But this drew the gaze of God, who confounded their speech and shattered their unity, leaving the tower to crumble.
At the top of this pagoda sat the “Demon’s Den” of the jujutsu world—the Higher-Ups.
Once, sorcerers might have held noble ideals, but time had turned them to rot.
That “tower to the heavens” would eventually collapse, too.
The boy who slays the dragon eventually becomes the dragon himself.
They entered the room to find Principal Yaga sitting there, meticulously needle-felting a cute doll.
The contrast was so absurd that even Toge looked like he wanted to comment.
Yaga’s deep voice resonated through the room.
“Satoru, you’re late.
Three minutes.
You’re always just late enough to be annoying but not late enough to be truly scolded.
I thought I told you to fix that habit.” Gojo sighed.
“If it’s not worth a scolding, don’t nag me about it.
You’re just making dolls anyway; what does three minutes matter?” Yaga looked at the nearly finished doll in his hands.
“So, these children are this year’s first-years?” He set the doll down and stood up.
“You are all children of jujutsu families.
For various reasons, you have come to Jujutsu High to study curses and learn how to exorcise them.
You all have your own motivations and clear goals.
Therefore, I won’t waste time with questions.
You’ve passed the interview.
Go prepare for this afternoon’s practical field application.” Minamoto was stunned.
He had expected the intense questioning Yaga gave Itadori Yuji in the original story, but it was already over?
It pays to have the Principal’s ‘son’ as a classmate!
Gojo turned to the group.
“Principal Yaga and I have some ‘grown-up’ business to discuss.
Everyone is dismissed.
Meet at the school gate; an Assistant Director will be there to pick you up.” The first-years gave a half-hearted “Yes, sir” and prepared to leave.
They had expected a terrifying trial, but it turned into a total nothingburger.
However, as they turned to leave, Yaga’s low voice reached their ears.
“Do not become the kind of people you loathe.
Remember that.” The warning sent a chill down their spines, as if a thousand eyes were suddenly fixed upon them.