“Oh hoho—no wonder the reports Ijichi submitted said these few blocks have been unusually quiet lately…” “So it turns out there’s been a public-spirited citizen quietly cleaning up all along~” “And quite a tidy job of it, too.” “Not bad, not bad~” Every muscle in Uchiha Ayato’s body went taut the instant that voice reached him.
The fine hairs on his skin stood on end, and his heartbeat shot straight past its threshold, pumping blood like mad.
No escape.
The gaze at his back carried no physical weight, yet it pinned Uchiha Ayato in place like a mountain.
Uchiha Ayato slowly turned his head.
The halo of the streetlight was split down the middle by a tall figure.
The newcomer stood at least one meter ninety, a black high-collared uniform outlining his slender frame.
Most striking of all was the head of white hair that stood out even in the dark of night, and the pure-black blindfold covering his eyes.
Gojo Satoru—the Special Grade Sorcerer who bore the title of “the Strongest Sorcerer.” From the very moment of his birth he had upset the balance of the jujutsu world and caused modern curses to grow steadily stronger—a being feared by Cursed Spirits and curse users alike.
A monster.
An absolute monster.
Laughing about him online is all well and good, but if you actually ran into Gojo-sensei in real life, who wouldn’t go pale and bolt for it?
The Tomoe spun madly in his eyes.
In Uchiha Ayato’s vision, the flow of the other man’s energy was like a vast ocean hanging upside-down overhead, ready at any moment to slam the entire block into powder.
What this world called “Cursed Energy” formed a vacuum zone around him that warped the laws of physics; the speed of every object approaching him was slowed without limit.
He simply stood there, yet seemed forever impossible to touch on a physical level.
Uchiha Ayato drew a deep breath, switched off his Sharingan, and brought his breathing and physical responses back to a normal state.
Then he put his usual dashing smile back on: “Mister, showing up dressed all in black in the dead of night, not making a sound, right behind someone—that’s pretty terrifying, you know?” “I feel like my lifespan just got shortened a little from that scare.” “Oh my, sorry, sorry~” Gojo Satoru, hands in his pockets, ground the residual Cursed Spirit ash on the ground beneath his soles as he walked toward Uchiha Ayato.
At last he stopped three paces from Ayato and, through his blindfold, studied the black-haired boy before him: “It is a uniform, after all.
But still…” Gojo Satoru bent down slightly, bringing his face a little closer, the sheer pressure of an absolute powerhouse pressing straight down on Ayato: “Your residual Cursed Energy is rather interesting.” “And those eyes of yours…
they flashed red just now—must be a special Innate Technique, right?” Gojo Satoru snapped his fingers: “An unlicensed individual who one-shots a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit in the dead of night, who looks like nothing more than a middle schooler, and has a face girls would quite like, too…” “Well!
Kid, do you have any plans for further schooling?” “How about coming to our school for high school?
Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College.” The instant Gojo Satoru’s words landed, the System reacted at once—— [Lifetime Mission: Accept Hatake Kakashi’s invitation and join Team Seven.] [Mission Reward: Three-Tomoe Sharingan] Uchiha Ayato: …
So Hatake Kakashi had arrived.
Wasn’t that just a little too disrespectful to Gojo-sensei?
Gojo-sensei was, at the very least, the strongest of the modern age—whereas Kakashi, well…
But you know what, white hair plus a blindfold, plus that laid-back personality—Gojo-sensei and the Copy Ninja really did share quite a few overlapping traits.
This System was just that scatterbrained.
This time it had pegged Gojo Satoru as Hatake Kakashi; next time, when Gojo Satoru showed off some teleportation-like trait, it would probably peg Gojo Satoru as Namikaze Minato instead.
Snark aside, the reward the System was offering was enough to tempt Ayato.
But of course Ayato wasn’t about to agree on the spot.
Joining the Tech College meant selling his labor, and if he was going to sell his labor, he had to sell it at a good price.
Working himself half to death for a monthly salary of three thousand—who’d do that?
On top of that, there was one most important reason—— When it came to the world of jujutsu, Uchiha Ayato was an armchair fan.
Back when he finished the first season of the anime, the version circulating online had already reached the part where Hakari got diced into mango chunks; as for what happened in between, he genuinely had no real idea.
Once he stepped into the jujutsu world, Ayato would be facing far, far too many unknowns.
So Ayato decided to do a little stalling and haggling.
Kids, watch Uncle Ayato play Gojo Satoru like a fiddle!
“I’ll pass.” Uchiha Ayato turned Gojo Satoru down cleanly and decisively.
“Eh?” Gojo Satoru blinked: “That decisive?
What’s your reason?” “A technical college?” Uchiha Ayato shook his head, a lazy, contemptuous smile on his face: “It sounds low-rent just from the name, old man.” “I don’t know what kind of hidden establishment you people run, but with a ‘technical college’ tacked onto the end—does the diploma come stamped with the seal of the Prime Minister of the Cabinet, by any chance?” Ayato raised a hand and pointed at the bustling streetlights in the distance: “See all those thousands of lit-up windows?
I happen to have a very rigorous and far-reaching plan for my life.” “Oh-ho?” Gojo Satoru’s lips curled up even further: “Do tell?
Are you going to become the guardian of all those thousands of lights, or trample every last one of them underfoot?” “Neither.
I just mean—all that decadent luxury, how could it not make a person want to wallow in it?” Uchiha Ayato declared with total conviction: “I’m going to get into Todai.” “Make a name for myself before my third year of university, then go to all sorts of mixers and, on the strength of this face, screen out the top thirty wealthiest young heiresses in all of Tokyo.” “After that, deploy a few necessary social maneuvers to make her fall hopelessly in love with me.” “Marry into her family, register the marriage, and settle fully into the kept-man life of sleeping in until I wake up naturally every day in a big house—simple as that.” Gojo Satoru: ???
The air went quiet for a few seconds.
“Pfft…” Gojo Satoru clutched his stomach, his shoulders heaving violently: “Hahahahaha!
Marry in?” “You’ve got power like this, and yet you’re thinking of leeching off a woman?” “Don’t go underestimating me.” Ayato stepped around the man, who was doubled over with laughter, and began edging toward the wider avenue: “To keep up this body and state of mind capable of attracting rich women, I have to guarantee plenty of sleep and absolute safety of life and limb.” “That kind of line of work—the sort that obviously involves brawling hand-to-hand with monsters reeking of sewage—whoever wants it can have it.” “If there’s nothing else, I need to head back and catch up on my sleep.” Gojo Satoru stopped laughing.
The next instant, that tall white-haired figure was already leaning back against the utility pole at the intersection, tossing and catching a phone in one hand.
“The marrying-in plan really does sound great.” Gojo Satoru said offhandedly: “But the perks at our Tech College are pretty good too, you know.
If you’d like, I could even introduce you to a genuine young lady from the Three Great Families.” “Besides, I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I?” “My name is Gojo Satoru—the one in charge of the first-years at Tokyo Jujutsu High.” “And by the way, I’m a man with a very low tolerance for being turned down.” [Name: Hatake Kakashi Chakra: 8884841/8884844 Rank: Super-Kage (Like unto a God)] Staring at the tall figure blocking the mouth of the alley, Uchiha Ayato was silent for a few seconds.
Then he let out a sigh: “A low tolerance?
Now that really is a shame.” “But old man, can you honestly blame me for this?” Ayato pointed at Gojo Satoru’s blindfold: “Standing here in the dead of night wearing a pitch-black blindfold, playing all spooky and mysterious—isn’t that just a bit too disrespectful?” “If you sincerely wanted to talk, you shouldn’t be hiding behind a cover, should you?” “What makes a weirdo who won’t even show his face think I’d hand my future over to him?” Hearing this, Gojo Satoru let out a soft laugh, his fingers settling on the edge of the blindfold: “You’ve really got some nerve, you picky little brat.” With that, he tugged his fingertips downward, and the black cloth slipped away.
A streak of pure sky-blue.
It was a vast color, as though the entire firmament had been compressed and stuffed into his eye sockets, fine streams of Cursed Energy light flickering deep within his pupils.
At the very instant the blindfold slipped free and their eyes met, Uchiha Ayato’s pitch-black pupils were dyed blood-red in a flash, the jet-black Tomoe tearing into a ring of afterimages amid the crimson glow.
Gojo Satoru’s breath cut off abruptly.
The lazy smile froze on his face, his pale-blue pupils dilating, his whole body as motionless as if struck by lightning.
“Before these eyes, it doesn’t matter how strong you are—it’s useless.” “That’s reality.
What a pity.” Uchiha Ayato walked around Gojo Satoru and set off down the moonlit avenue: “I’m going to walk my own path.
Don’t get in my way.” “Or so you thought~” And yet, the very next second, a strong, powerful hand came down on his shoulder.
“No Cursed Speech, no hand signs, no Domain Expansion…” “Just one instant of eye contact, and you shoved an illusion straight past my Limitless and into my head?” Gojo Satoru’s voice was brimming with excitement: “Fascinating—so fascinating!” “Crafty kid, you really pulled one over on me!” Uchiha Ayato: “…” “Haah—can we call a truce?”