~ 💎 WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎🔥 60→1ch | 100→2ch | 200→5ch ⏰ Resets Monday!
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Dust hung thick over the training ground.
“Eight Gates Released Formation, First Gate — Gate of Opening!”
The instant Toji Fushiguro’s voice dropped.
No Cursed Energy fluctuation whatsoever.
A brutal, savage wave of scorching heat, hot enough to nearly ignite the air itself, detonated outward with him at its center.
Beneath the blindingly bright green spandex, his skin flushed a deep, eerie crimson.
His entire body looked like a red-hot steel furnace come to life, radiating heat that pressed against the skin.
“This guy…” Every trace of ease drained from Gojo Satoru’s face.
His pale blue Six Eyes went into overdrive.
Zero Cursed Energy.
Yet in the Six Eyes’ field of vision, this man’s life force was burning at a rate that defied comprehension.
Blood flow velocity, muscle activation, both had smashed clean through the physical limits of the human body.
This was suicidal self-exploitation.
“Don’t freeze up!”
Kento Nanami’s voice cut cold and sharp.
He ripped off his tie and wound it tight around his right fist.
No Cursed Energy didn’t mean they had to stand there and get beaten one-sided.
“Haibara, left!”
“Yes!”
Yu Haibara shot forward like a round from a cannon, flanking wide.
A straight punch, trailing a sharp gust of wind, drove straight at Toji’s face.
“Plenty of energy.
Too straightforward.”
Toji’s feet didn’t move.
Planted like cast iron.
A slight tilt of the head.
The punch’s wind grazed his cheek and died on empty air.
Now.
Kento Nanami had slipped into Toji’s blind spot.
Using Haibara’s feint as cover, he drove his tie-wrapped fist hard into Toji’s ribs.
BANG!
Clean contact.
Solid hit.
Nanami’s brow jumped.
Something was wrong.
It felt like punching a steel plate wrapped in thick leather.
Every ounce of recoil vanished, absorbed entirely by that impossible layer of muscle.
“Good tactics.” Toji grinned.
“Not enough power.”
He grabbed back-handed.
Five fingers like iron pincers, locked dead around Nanami’s wrist.
“Let go of Nanami-senpai!” Yu Haibara roared, spinning around.
He spread both arms and lunged for Toji’s lower back.
Toji didn’t even glance back.
His left leg whipped backward like a scorpion’s tail — a precise, rising kick.
BANG!
A muffled crack, like sternum bones giving out.
Yu Haibara flew like a kite with its string cut, tumbling over a dozen meters across the turf.
He clutched his stomach, too winded to even scream.
“Your turn.”
Toji snapped Nanami’s wrist hard toward his own chest.
Kento Nanami’s center of gravity buckled.
He rode the momentum and swung his left elbow up at Toji’s jaw.
“Fast reflexes.”
Toji’s head dropped back, slipping the blow.
His right hand released Nanami’s wrist, palm rolling into a fist.
One-inch force, detonating in an instant.
BOOM!
Dead center, chest.
The air blasted out of Kento Nanami’s lungs all at once.
He staggered backward seven, eight steps and hit the ground hard, dry-heaving.
30 seconds.
Two men down.
“Nanami!”
Suguru Geto finally entered the fight.
Against a pure taijutsu monster, distance meant nothing.
The only option was to get in close, grapple, smother the explosiveness.
BANG.
CRACK.
BANG.
The muffled percussion of fists and legs meeting erupted in rapid bursts.
Suguru Geto blocked a left hook, dropped low, swept a leg at the base.
Toji hopped up lightly.
Suguru Geto shifted immediately.
“Bun-head.
Not bad taijutsu.”
In midair, Toji twisted his core at an angle that had no business existing, catching the knee on the outer side of his thigh.
He used the impact to flip back and landed clean.
“Textbook-perfect form.” Toji brushed the dust off his leg, nothing but contempt in his eyes.
“Shame a textbook can’t teach you how to actually kill someone.”
He stomped the ground.
The next instant, he was gone, a low-skimming blur, speed surging without warning.
Suguru Geto’s pupils snapped tight.
Both arms crossed over his head and face, locked as hard as he could hold them.
BANG!
The first punch.
Both forearms shrieked at a pitch that set teeth on edge.
Then the storm came.
Relentless.
Each punch carrying a tearing, crushing pressure that shook the air.
Suguru Geto could only hold on, guard up, giving ground one brutal step at a time.
Left ribs.
After several hammering strikes, Toji left a gap.
A lethal one.
Suguru Geto gambled on eating one clean shot.
He stiffened his right hand into a blade and stabbed straight for the opening.
“There you are.” Toji’s smile didn’t waver.
The gap was bait.
At the last instant before the hand-blade connected, Toji’s body bent at an angle no human spine should allow.
He slipped the strike and, like a python finding purchase, coiled around Suguru Geto’s arm.
Joint lock.
Suguru Geto’s stomach dropped.
Toji used the borrowed force and swung hard by the shoulder, a clean, decisive over-the-shoulder throw.
BOOM!
Suguru Geto cratered into the ground.
The impact through his back whited out his vision.
He stopped moving entirely.
Toji let go, rolled his neck until it popped in a chain of loud cracks, and fixed his gaze on the only person still standing.
“Warm-up’s over, white-haired brat.”
Gojo Satoru wasn’t smiling.
He flicked his sunglasses aside.
Those pale blue eyes held nothing but cold, absolute focus.
“Geto’s taijutsu ranks at the top of our year.” Gojo Satoru rolled his wrists.
“Pushing him that far — you really are something, monkey.”
He settled into a fighting stance.
“This ends here.”
WHOOSH.
Gojo Satoru moved first.
BANG.
Two fists collided in midair like cannonballs.
A high-speed exchange that stole the breath from the air itself.
Gojo Satoru’s edge was the Six Eyes.
Every muscle twitch, every shift in center of gravity, every vector of force Toji generated, all of it laid out in perfect clarity.
Before Toji’s sweeping kick even left the ground, Gojo Satoru was already moving, countering with a jab aimed straight at the throat.
Toji tilted his head and flowed into a reverse elbow strike.
Gojo Satoru ducked, slid in, kicked at the back of Toji’s knee.
“Great vision!” The fervor in Toji’s eyes burned white-hot.
“But seeing it and keeping up with it are two different things!”
BOOM!
The air detonated around him.
The Gate of Opening pushed to its absolute ceiling.
Speed exploded again.
The Six Eyes screamed their warning: left, get back,
But without Cursed Energy reinforcing the body, his reaction lagged by a tenth of a second.
BANG!
Toji’s iron fist blasted past the side of Gojo Satoru’s face.
The shockwave alone, sharp as a blade edge, carved a red gash across his cheek.
Something cold moved through Gojo Satoru’s chest.
“What’s the matter?
The Strongest?” Toji’s assault came like a tsunami that didn’t stop.
“Your body is screaming.”
Gojo Satoru had nothing left but the Six Eyes’ read on the next half-second, dodging on fumes.
Physical strength hemorrhaging.
Lungs burning like they were packed with coals.
“It’s done!”
Toji’s voice dropped to a growl.
He abandoned every shred of defense.
He ate Gojo Satoru’s kick full in the chest.
Drove forward.
Both hands clamped onto Gojo Satoru’s shoulders like iron vises.
No,
Gojo Satoru thrashed with everything he had.
The grip was obscene.
The world flipped.
Another savage back throw, and the insufferable “Strongest” was driven into the earth.
BOOM!
A crater erupted across the turf.
Every organ in Gojo Satoru’s body lurched.
His brain went dark.
Silence.
The training ground held its breath.
Yu Haibara lay face-down at the edge of the sand pit.
Kento Nanami sat collapsed, heaving for air.
Suguru Geto was down on one knee.
Gojo Satoru lay at the bottom of the crater, staring up at the sky.
Four of Jujutsu High’s finest.
A pure taijutsu contest.
Completely dismantled by a man with zero Cursed Energy.
Dimensional suppression with no angle of escape.
The kind that made hope feel stupid.
“So.
Principal.”
Toji dropped his stance.
The crimson glow and the violent pressure surrounding him faded all at once.
He was just a laid-back slab of muscle again, grinning wide at Yaga Masamichi, who stood at the edge of the field with a face like a thundercloud.
“Does my resume pass?”
Yaga’s expression could have curdled water.
Pass?
This was one-sided demolition.
These heaven-blessed prodigies had their faces ripped off and ground into the dirt today.
But Yaga glanced at Gojo Satoru being frantically hauled upright by Shoko Ieiri, then at Suguru Geto’s hollow, distant stare.
Maybe this was exactly the lesson that people who believed themselves the strongest had never been given.
Yaga exhaled slowly.
He pulled out a badly creased contract and walked forward.
“From today, you are the specially appointed taijutsu instructor at Jujutsu High.”
“3-month probationary period.
3 million yen a month.
Full insurance and housing fund.
Room and board covered.”
He pinned Toji with the gaze you’d give something in a cage.
“If their physical fitness scores double within one semester, your salary rises to Special Grade standards.”
“Deal!”
Toji snatched the contract out of his hand.
The killing machine of 5 seconds ago became a man with stars in his eyes.
He tucked the contract into his chest pocket with the careful reverence of a man handling something sacred, eyes going red at the corners.
Megumi’s game console.
Tsumiki’s princess dress.
Top-grade wagyu.
All of it, finally within reach.
“Principal!
You’re my second parent!”
Toji threw his arms wide and lunged.
Yaga sidestepped without changing expression, reached into his pocket, and produced a massive ring of rusted keys.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Yaga tossed the keys over.
“I’m opening the ‘Forest of Punishment’ in the back mountain to you.
Turn them into real monsters.”
Toji caught the keys without looking.
He turned back toward the training ground.
Took in the students strewn across it at every angle.
The corner of his mouth pulled into something that had no business being called a smile.
“All hands, attention!”
That signature foghorn voice rolled across the training ground and made every scalp on the field crawl.
“To celebrate the founding of our glorious teacher-student bond!
First Youth Taijutsu class — tomorrow, oh-five-thirty!”
“50 kilograms of added weight.
100 laps around the school.
Late arrivals run double!”
The last color left Suguru Geto’s face.
What replaced it was pure, undiluted horror.
Gojo Satoru had just managed to get his feet under him.
His legs folded.
He nearly went straight back into the crater.
➤ Next: Landed a Steady Job!
Jujutsu Kaisen