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Evening.
The Fushiguro household.
The security door flew open with a bang and slammed into the wall.
“Dad’s home!” Toji squeezed his terrifyingly muscular frame through the narrow doorway like a gorilla fresh off a victory, an insufferably arrogant grin spread wide across his face.
Megumi had been drinking soup from a chipped plastic bowl.
The crash startled him so badly his hand jerked, nearly splashing the whole bowl in his face.
He raised his dead-fish eyes, ready to ask whether this sweat-soaked gorilla had been out running some kind of scam.
Slap.
A thick stack of ten-thousand-yen bills, still smelling of fresh ink, hit the center of the dining table.
A labor contract stamped with the red seal of Tokyo Jujutsu High landed right on top of it.
“Take a good look!” Toji planted both hands on his hips and let out a roar of laughter.
The dim ceiling lamp swayed overhead.
“From today onward, your father — that’s me, the great Blue Beast — has officially landed himself a stable job!”
“I’m on the payroll!”
He jabbed a finger at the money.
2 jets of air blasted from his nostrils.
His eyes, inexplicably, were growing moist again.
“Principal Masamichi Yaga, moved by my sincere dedication, advanced me one million yen in startup funds!
Megumi!
Tsumiki Fushiguro!
Dad’s taking you out for barbecue tonight!
New clothes!
We’re going to squander our damn youth while we still can!”
Megumi went still.
He stared at the stack of cash.
Then at the black-and-white document that read: Special-Appointment Taijutsu Instructor.
This scumbag…
actually got a job?
Not gambling on horse races.
Not taking life-or-death assassination contracts.
He went and became a teacher?
How was that even possible?
That worthless drunk who wallowed in debauchery every single day, who had once tried to sell his own son for booze money, he actually went to work to support the family?
Megumi felt his entire worldview crack down the middle.
He even started to wonder whether this hulking giant had been possessed by something.
If it was possession, the thing inside clearly wasn’t all that bright either.
While Megumi was busy questioning the nature of reality, a small hand reached in from beside him.
Tsumiki Fushiguro stepped forward and expressionlessly gathered the stack of bills in front of her.
Then she pulled a rubber band from a drawer with practiced ease and bound the cash tight.
“Tsumiki Fushiguro?” Toji’s laughter cut off dead.
He stared blankly at his stepdaughter.
“Water bill, electricity bill, gas bill, Megumi’s kindergarten tuition, and the money we owe the neighbor lady for groceries.” Tsumiki Fushiguro ticked each item off on her fingers, her voice carrying the flat precision of a CFO with no feelings whatsoever.
To prevent you from blowing it at pachinko, the Fushiguro household’s finances are under my authority from now on.”
All the air went out of Toji’s muscles at once.
“But…
I still wanted to buy the new high-protein powder…” He huddled miserably in the corner, drawing circles on the tatami with one finger, his enormous frame somehow shrinking into a small, pathetic ball.
“No barbecue.
Tonight is pork belly stewed with tofu.” Tsumiki Fushiguro tucked the money into her apron pocket and turned toward the kitchen.
The matter was closed.
“Yes, ma’am…” Toji let out a pitiful whimper.
Then he turned to look at Megumi, and the fire came roaring back into his eyes.
“Doesn’t matter!
Material deprivation cannot stop the soul from burning!
Megumi, after the tofu, we’re adding fifty handstand push-ups tonight!”
Megumi’s mouth twitched.
But looking at Toji’s dopey expression, he found, for once in his life, that the word “idiot” didn’t make it out of his mouth.
Whatever.
Even if something had possessed him, this stupid gorilla was still a thousand times better than the old one, the one who’d carried the smell of death and blood on him like a second skin.
The next day.
Five-thirty in the morning.
The rear mountain of Jujutsu High.
The Forest of Punishment.
Mountain mist still hung between the trees.
The air had the piercing bite of deep autumn.
4 boys stood in a line, expressions varied, united only by how awful they all looked.
“What the hell is this?!” Satoru Gojo held up a wad of green fabric between two fingers, his face twisted with revulsion as if he were pinching a rag soaked in something unspeakable.
“As you can see!” Toji stood with his arms crossed and his chin tilted at the sky, dressed in his own eye-searing skintight suit.
“This is the Youth Battle Robe I had custom-made overnight!
A high-tech creation that conforms perfectly to the muscle and lets sweat fly free!”
“Only when you put it on will you understand the ultimate romance of physical combat!”
“I would rather die.” Satoru Gojo dropped the green wad back on the ground like garbage.
Suguru Geto’s stomach lurched.
His face had gone pale.
“Teacher Fushiguro, the aesthetic of this garment exceeds the physiological limits of what we can accept.
If you insist, I formally request to withdraw from school.”
Kento Nanami adjusted his glasses.
A dead light sat behind the lenses.
“Under labor law, compelling students to wear attire that degrades their dignity constitutes psychological harassment.
I will be filing a complaint with Principal Masamichi Yaga.”
Only Yu Haibara’s eyes lit up.
He snatched the skintight suit off the ground and started pulling it on.
“Ohh!
So this is the battle robe of the strong!
I’m putting it on right, ”
“Put.
That.
Down.” Nanami seized his hand, jaw tight. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Toji watched these students refuse to bend, one after another.
The hot, open grin on his face faded.
The corner of his mouth curled into something quieter and more dangerous.
Compromise?
Might Guy’s dictionary had room for tolerance.
The Sorcerer Killer’s had room only for absolute obedience.
“Fine.
Won’t wear the skintight suit.” Toji snapped his fingers.
“I’ll give you that.
But in exchange, you’re wearing these.”
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
4 heavy black sandbags came sailing from behind him and hit the ground at their feet.
The hard mountain path shuddered on impact.
“Specially made, high-density lead sandbags.
Fifty jin each.
Strapped to your wrists and ankles.” Toji’s voice had gone cold, carrying a pressure that left no room for argument.
“The rules are simple.
From this moment on, everyone seals their Cursed Energy.
Pure physical strength only.
100 laps around this mountain.”
“Before you finish, if anyone uses even a trace of Cursed Energy, or tries to pull off the sandbags…”
Toji grinned.
It didn’t reach his eyes.
A killing intent erupted from him, sudden and absolute, the kind forged through mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
Every one of them felt it land on their chest like a physical weight.
“I’ll break his legs.
He can spend the rest of his youth screaming in a hospital bed.”
Suguru Geto wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
This man was not joking.
He would absolutely do it.
No one wanted to be on the wrong side of a deranged, assassination-trained lunatic.
The 4 of them strapped on the sandbags without another word.
Fifty jin on each limb.
It felt like 2 extra people climbing onto their backs.
Bodies that had been light and easy suddenly moved like they were packed with lead.
Even lifting a leg took effort.
“Move out!
For burning youth!” Yu Haibara was the first to charge forward, steps heavy and loud, voice as bright as ever.
➤ Next: Special Training Begins, the Defiant Strongest
Jujutsu Kaisen