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Gojo Satoru sensed the disturbance behind him and whipped around.
Riko was falling.
He froze.
The arrogance drained from his face in an instant, like someone had pulled a plug.
Geto Suguru had just repelled his opponent with a single move.
He turned, and he saw it too.
The girl he had sworn to protect.
Dead at the hands of the very “weak” he had vowed to defend.
That girl who said she wanted to live.
That girl who laughed so freely on the beach.
Gone.
His worldview didn’t crack.
It shattered.
The light in his eyes went out completely.
What remained was emptiness.
Cold, bottomless emptiness.
“HAHAHAHAHA!
The plan succeeded!” The Shadow Mage leader drove Toji back with a slash and spun toward the others, voice cracking with twisted glee.
“Did you see that!
‘Sorcerer Killer’!
And the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer!
This is what you fought with everything to protect!
Fragile beyond belief!
Fragile as a joke!”
Geto Suguru didn’t hear a word.
He just stared at Riko’s body.
Then at the old woman slumped on the ground beside it, trembling, unable to stand.
Kill these monkeys.
The thought surfaced quietly.
Black as a seed.
It sank into his chest and took root.
Gojo Satoru wasn’t faring any better.
He was the strongest.
His Six Eyes could pierce any cursed technique.
His Limitless could shut out any attack.
And he had still lost.
To this.
To the most laughable thing imaginable, a single ordinary person’s backstab.
He hadn’t even reacted in time, because every ounce of his attention had been locked on the “real threats.”
The strongest.
Beaten by the weakest.
Ten thousand times more humiliating than losing to an equal.
Toji surveyed the scene unfolding in front of him and let out an irritated sigh.
What the hell.
The white-haired one had crashed completely.
CPU fried, no rebooting in sight.
The bun-head was even worse.
He was 2 seconds away from downloading an antisocial personality disorder right there on the spot.
This little scene?
Really?
In Konoha, a casualty at this level wouldn’t even crack the top ten trending topics.
Might Guy always said: true strength isn’t measured by how many enemies you put down.
It’s measured by how many times you get back up from failure and run even faster.
“Hey.
You with the knife scar.” Toji picked at his ear, cutting straight through the man’s laughter.
“You’re loud.”
The Shadow Mage leader stopped mid-cackle.
He stared at Toji the way you stare at someone who’s lost their mind.
“Are you insane?
Your mission target is dead!
You, ”
He didn’t finish.
A green blur materialized in front of him.
Not a dash, not a charge, just there, faster than his eyes could track.
BOOM!
A side kick.
Simple.
Brutal. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
The Shadow Mage leader left the ground like a cannonball fired from a rifled barrel and cratered into the outer wall of Jujutsu High, leaving a perfect human-shaped hole in the concrete.
Dust and rubble billowed out in a slow, lazy cloud.
The world went quiet.
Toji dusted off nonexistent grime from his leg and walked toward Geto Suguru with long, unhurried strides.
He raised one massive hand and brought it down hard on Geto Suguru’s back, full of enthusiasm.
SMACK!
“Oi!
Bun-head!
A face like that doesn’t fit the definition of youth!
It’s just a dead comrade.
Find a more durable one next time.”
That slap hit like a switch being thrown.
“She’s DEAD!” Geto Suguru spun around, eyes bloodshot, and grabbed Toji by the collar, the first time he had ever turned killing intent on someone standing beside him.
“She’s dead!
Are you blind?!
What the hell are you smiling about, you muscle-brained freak!”
Gojo Satoru’s gaze was ice-cold, pinned on Toji.
“Dead?”
Toji grinned.
Under the heavy, overcast sky, that grin was infuriating, glaring and punchable and completely unbothered.
He ignored Geto Suguru’s grip entirely, lazily raised one hand, and snapped his fingers at Riko’s “body” on the ground.
“Transformation Jutsu — release.”
POOF!
A soft pop.
A small, ridiculous curl of white smoke.
Under the collective, stupefied stare of everyone present, Amanai Riko’s bloody “corpse” dissolved into a log of wood with a knife stuck through it.
Wood.
Wood?
Geto Suguru’s hand went rigid on Toji’s collar.
Gojo Satoru’s Six Eyes, those azure eyes that had never once shown confusion, fractured into something that looked like a data overflow.
A first.
An absolute first.
The Shadow Mage leader’s jaw nearly came off its hinge.
Into the silence, from around a corner not far away, Kuroi Misato peeked out carefully and led a young girl into view.
Same sailor uniform.
Not a scratch on her.
Just a little pale.
Amanai Riko looked at the log on the ground and pressed a hand to her chest, still shaky with relief.
“Trans— Transformation Jutsu?” Gojo Satoru’s brain had fully stalled.
“What the hell is that?”
“Impossible.” The Shadow Mage leader’s voice came out strangled.
“My perception, my cursed technique had an absolute lock on her.
How is it wood?!”
Toji pushed the petrified Geto Suguru aside, turned to Riko, and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Not bad, kid.
Real youthful tension in that performance.
Very expressive.
Next time, try playing a kindergartner who just got her lollipop stolen.”
Riko’s mouth twitched.
She had absolutely nothing to say to him.
The instant this madman had sensed the old woman’s killing intent, he had executed the switch at a speed she couldn’t process.
She’d only felt a massive force yank her backward.
When she opened her eyes, she was watching “herself” get stabbed through.
It was ninjutsu.
Something no one in this world had any framework to understand.
Toji had developed it himself, a technique born from fusing the raw physical output of his Heavenly Restriction with the faint chakra he’d built from nothing, starting from zero.
Half life-saver.
Half prank.
Entirely his own.
“Alright.” Toji turned around and cracked his knuckles, each joint popping clean.
“Farce is over.”
He looked at the 3 remaining Shadow Mages.
In his green eyes, the heat and passion of “Maito Toji” was draining away.
What replaced it was something else entirely, the flat, absolute-zero stillness of the Sorcerer Killer.
“Punishment time.”
“Second Gate, Gate of Rest.
Open.”
The air detonated outward from his body.
Beneath the green spandex, his muscles swelled a visible size, veins rising beneath the skin like living things trying to crawl free.
He moved.
No sprint.
One step, and his entire body became a green tornado.
“Leaf Hurricane!”
The scar-faced leader didn’t have time to scream.
The tornado swallowed him whole.
What he felt was a hundred kicks landing from every direction, above, below, left, right, every angle, no gaps, each one landing on a joint with the weight of a battering ram.
CRACK.
CRACK.
CRACK.
The bones gave like a string of firecrackers.
Dense and relentless, like rain on a tin roof.
By the time Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru registered what had happened, the scar-faced leader was a heap on the ground.
No skeleton left to speak of.
Breathing out.
Not breathing in.
The 2 remaining assassins looked at each other and ran.
They didn’t get far.
What they were running from was the strongest duo on the planet, both of them fresh from a trip to the edge of hell, both of them furious about being played.
“Blue.”
Gojo Satoru raised his hand.
His face was blank.
“Rainbow Dragon.”
Geto Suguru formed a hand seal.
His eyes were cold.
10 seconds.
That was all it took.
The battlefield fell silent.
In front of Jujutsu High’s gate, believers and assassins lay scattered across the ground like debris after a storm.
Unconscious.
Broken.
Done.
Amanai Riko looked at all of it.
At Geto Suguru, who had cracked open at the sight of her dying.
At Gojo Satoru, still carrying ice in his eyes.
At that idiot muscle-brained lunatic who had somehow, inexplicably, held it all together.
She took a deep breath.
Then she shouted, with everything in her chest, at all of them, and at herself:
“I don’t want to merge anymore!”
“I want to live!
I want to eat crepes!
I want to play volleyball on the beach!
I want to stay alive — with everyone — and keep going!”
The words rang out across the courtyard.
Clear.
Unshaking.
They cut right through the damp post-rain air and didn’t fade.
Geto Suguru stared at her.
The ice in his eyes melted.
Slowly, quietly, like the last snow of spring finally giving way.
Toji walked over and dropped his rough, heavy hand onto Riko’s head, ruffling her hair with zero gentleness.
He flashed a full set of white teeth.
“That’s what I’m talking about.
Amanai girl.”
“Choose your own path.
Own it.
No regrets.”
He straightened up, planted one foot on a chunk of rubble, pointed straight at the setting sun, and threw his arm toward the sky.
Then he roared, with everything he had:
“This is my Ninja Way!
This is the final answer of youth!”
The mission was a failure.
Every single person walked away alive.
Gojo Satoru watched that green figure sprint through the last light of the sunset, tears running openly down his face.
He looked at his best friend beside him, the light back in his eyes, finally.
Then at the girl who had chosen to live.
Something settled in Gojo Satoru’s chest that had no name.
He was the strongest.
He had always been the strongest.
He still had a lot to learn.
➤ Next: Move Out — Exterminate the Time Vessel Association
Jujutsu Kaisen