“…” Utahime Iori remained silent for two seconds, then took a deep breath.
“Gojo, can you be serious for once?”
“I *am* being serious,” Gojo said, spreading his hands innocently.
“When you have someone you care about, something you want to protect…
that’s when you have a weakness.”
On the screen, seeing Maki pop the lollipop into her mouth, Arata suddenly leaned in and whispered something.
Maki raised her hand and rapped him on the head—not hard, more like a habitual gesture.
Mei Mei let out a light chuckle.
“Does that little Zenin girl know she’s being targeted?”
“Targeted?” Gojo blinked, protesting with exaggerated flair.
“Mei-san, that word sounds so aggressive.
But of course, Maki knows exactly what Arata-kun is thinking~”
“How do you know?” Utahime raised an eyebrow, curious.
“Oh, come on, it’s blindingly obvious.” Gojo leaned back in his chair, swinging his crossed leg.
“His feelings are written all over his face.
It’s not just me; basically everyone at Tokyo High knows.
Even Maki herself has figured it out.”
“To be young again…” Utahime took a sip of her tea, her tone carrying a trace of wistful nostalgia.
“Yeah, an ‘old auntie’ in her thirties like Utahime really should be sentimental.” Gojo gave her a cheeky grin.
The next second, a cup full of tea was hurled directly at his face.
Thanks to the Limitless, the tea didn’t touch a single hair on his head.
“Now, now, Utahime.
Being this cranky is why you’re still single.” Gojo maintained his posture, a punchable smirk plastered on his face.
“Gojo!” The veins on Utahime’s forehead throbbed with rage.
She reached for the teapot, but Masamichi Yaga’s hand stopped her.
Yaga stared at the screen in silence before speaking.
“Satoru, after the exchange event, take them out to relax for a bit.”
Two months after the Goodwill Event.
“What’s wrong, Yuta?
What are you looking at?” Panda asked, noticing Yuta Okkotsu staring up at the sky.
“I have a bad feeling…
maybe I’m just overthinking it,” Yuta replied, scratching the back of his head.
Watching this, Arata felt a sense of overwhelming familiarity.
He pulled out his phone to check the date: December 23rd.
*The day Suguru Geto arrives.*
Thinking fast, Arata pocketed his phone and pressed his palms together, aiming at a specific point in the sky.
Massive amounts of blood seeped from his body, rapidly converging in his palms.
“Arata?
“A ‘guest’ is coming.
I’m preparing a proper welcome.” Arata didn’t look back, his eyes locked onto a coordinates in the clouds.
A second later, a giant pelican curse with two pairs of wings materialized above them.
“Piercing Blood!”
The moment the beam fired, Arata staggered.
The blood arrow tore through the atmosphere with a sharp whistle, heading straight for the giant pelican.
However, the curse twisted its body mid-air with impossible fluidity, narrowly dodging the strike.
“He dodged it?” Arata narrowed his eyes.
The pelican curse landed before them.
Its massive beak opened, and several people stepped out.
Finally, a figure dressed in five-colored Buddhist robes jumped down from the curse’s back.
Black hair in a half-bun, a single long strand of bangs over his forehead, and gauges in his earlobes.
He stood there with his hands tucked into his sleeves, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips.
Suguru Geto.
*Honestly,* Arata thought, *this guy never considered how the jujutsu world actually functions.
If sorcerers protected non-sorcerers unconditionally, how would the clans get their funding?
He made his own rules, broke his own heart, and then spiraled into madness.
A real piece of work.* *It’s like Toji’s kick to his head in the past scrambled his brains.
A grown man acting without thinking about consequences…
good riddance in the end.*
“Yo,” Geto spoke, his voice as calm as a casual greeting.
“What a novel way to say hello.”
“I was aiming to shoot you down,” Arata said bluntly.
He pointed a thumb at Yuta behind him.
“Casuals should hurry up and get lost, or Big Bro Yuta is going to deal with you.”
Maki, following Arata’s lead, took on a defiant stance.
“If you don’t want to be thrashed by Big Bro Yuta, beat it!”
“Eh?
Me?” Yuta blinked, confused.
But in the next blink, Geto was already in front of him, grasping his hands.
“First time meeting you, Okkotsu.
I am Suguru Geto.” Geto’s smile was warm, but his eyes were bottomless.
*So fast!* Arata marveled.
Snapping back to reality, Arata coated his fist in cursed energy and swung at Geto.
“Don’t touch Master Geto with your filthy hands!”
Arata looked over to see a short-haired girl in a sailor uniform, clutching a doll, pulling the rope with her other hand.
*Mimiko Hasaba?
Then the one next to her is Nanako.* Arata raised an eyebrow and broke the rope with a light tug.
He didn’t have much of an impression of these two; their total screentime was barely twenty minutes.
He only remembered that one was eventually decapitated by Sukuna and the other was turned into a red mist.
Geto seemed to ignore the commotion, continuing his grand monologue about his “visionary” plan.
“They are my students.
Don’t go filling their heads with your twisted ideology,” Gojo said, standing behind the group with a flat tone.
“Satoru.” Geto released Yuta’s hands and turned around, his smile still pleasant.
“It’s been a long time.”
“Step away from them, Suguru,” Gojo said coldly.
Behind him, Yaga was already cracking his knuckles as he approached.
“I heard this year’s first-years were a collection of elites.
So you’re the one teaching them,” Geto’s tone cooled as his gaze swept over Arata and the others.
“A copycat sorcerer, a Special Grade cursed human, an Abrupt Mutated Cursed Corpse, a descendant of the Inumaki clan, and…”
Geto looked at Maki.
“The failure of the Zenin clan.”
“You bastard!” Spurred by the insult, Maki leveled her naginata at Geto, only to be met with a look of pure disdain.
“Watch your tone,” Geto said, looking down at Maki.
“My world has no need for a monkey like you.”
After mocking Maki, Geto’s gaze returned to Arata.
“That Piercing Blood earlier was yours, wasn’t it?
Finally, one of Satoru’s students looks somewhat decent.”
“Why are you really here?
Surely not just to insult my students,” Gojo’s voice was as cold as ice.
“I’m here to declare war.” Geto’s smile became meaningful as he looked at the sorcerers gathering behind Gojo.
“Everyone present, listen well.
On the upcoming December 24th, after sunset, we shall begin the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.”
“The locations will be the ‘Curse Crucible’ of Shinjuku, Tokyo, and the ‘Sacred Ground’ of Kyoto.
We will release thousands of curses in both locations.
The order given to them is simple: [Kill everyone you see].
If you don’t want these cities to turn into hell, do your best to stop us.”
“Let us curse each other to our hearts’ content!”
With that, Geto turned to leave.
But just as he did, Arata, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke two low, heavy words in the direction of Geto’s group.
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