Saturday morning finally arrived. Without disturbing anyone, Hanyu Gen simply informed Principal Yaga before leaving the school.
Unlike the others at the jujutsu high school, he was hired as a cultural studies teacher, meaning he naturally did not need to remain at the school over the weekends. In fact, he even enjoyed winter and summer vacations, following the exact same schedule as a normal teacher.
Hanyu Gen mentally reviewed his plans for the weekend: first, he would meet up with Nikolai Gogol at the designated location, and then he would return to his hometown for a quick visit.
The thought of meeting Gogol inevitably gave him a headache. Wherever Gogol was, Fyodor Dostoevsky would undoubtedly be nearby as well. Hanyu Gen considered Gogol a friend, but the same could certainly not be said for Fyodor.
He was a remarkably rational person, and Fyodor’s dream of creating a world devoid of ordinary humans ran completely counter to his own identity as an esper.
How could he possibly be friends with such a person?
Tokyo on a Saturday was wonderfully bustling. As one of Japan’s most prosperous cities, Tokyo rarely saw large-scale gunfights or mafia attacks of the kind that plagued Yokohama.
Yet that did not mean Tokyo was genuinely safe at least, back in the day, Hanyu Gen had witnessed the darker side of Tokyo with his own eyes.
Dressed in a royal blue trench coat, with a tall and slender figure and striking good looks, Hanyu Gen drew many admiring glances as he walked down the street.
Suddenly, he frowned.
Possessing exceptionally sharp perception regarding auras, Hanyu Gen could sense it even though the pursuer was hiding exceptionally well:
Someone was tailing him.
To conceal one’s presence to such a degree indicated that the pursuer possessed formidable skills and could not be taken lightly.
rationally speaking, Hanyu Gen should have remained among the crowds. Judging by the pursuer’s behavior, they clearly wished to avoid making a move in a densely populated area. If he simply stayed where people were thickest, nothing would happen to him.
However, leaving aside the fact that he would eventually have to deal with this tracker on his way home, he also had to meet Gogol and the others shortly. Hanyu Gen had no desire to be mocked by them for dragging a tail along.
Changing direction, Hanyu Gen headed toward the sparse outskirts of the city.
The surrounding people gradually dwindled as he entered a secluded area. Hanyu Gen stopped in his tracks, sensed a sharp rush of wind from behind, and nimbly sidestepped to the side.
The next instant, a bullet tore through his sleeve and whistled past.
A flurry of thoughts flashed through Hanyu Gen’s mind. Using a gun? Could it be a criminal from Tokyo? But that organization had been eradicated long ago, and his identity was so well concealed that he shouldn’t have been targeted for revenge.
At that moment, a man in a black T-shirt emerged. A scar marked the corner of his mouth, and his features carried a wild, rugged handsome charm.
Beneath his dark clothing, muscles bulged densely; even an untrained eye could tell that this man was an absolute apex predator.
“Who are you?” Hanyu Gen asked calmly, showing not a trace of the fear one would expect after being tracked and shot at.
“Toji Fushiguro,” the man gave his name.
Yet the moment the final syllable left his lips, a massive, lightning-fast fist came hurtling straight toward him.
Hanyu Gen’s expression hardened. Reacting with split-second speed, he raised his hands to block, managing to intercept the punch, though the sheer impact forced him back several steps.
Such incredible force.
He felt a secret jolt of shock; this level of physical strength and speed completely transcended ordinary human limits.
“You’re a bit different from what the dossier described. I’m going to charge extra for this trip back,” Toji Fushiguro said with an easy, unperturbed smile, shaking his hand. With one arm held across his chest in a defensive guard, he rapidly threw punches with the other. His fists moved so fast they left afterimages, forcing Hanyu Gen to keep both hands raised defensively over his chest while retreating step by step.
Hanyu Gen had no intention of remaining entirely on the passive end of the beating. Seizing the tiny split second when his opponent paused to breathe, he abruptly pivoted sideways, grabbed Toji’s fist with his palm, and discharged the momentum using soft-style redirection. At the same time, he drove his other elbow fiercely toward Toji’s arm with enough violence to make it look as though he meant to snap the bone in half.
Toji reacted with equal swiftness, instantly bending his arm and closing the distance, abandoning his block to smash his free hand straight down at Hanyu Gen’s back.
Hanyu Gen felt a jolt of alarm, instantly dropping his head and bending sharply at the waist. He executed a deep bow on the spot as the heavy fist grazed his back, whistling right over the top of his head.
A cold draft swept past; he could have sworn a few strands of his hair had been sheared right off.
Having dodged the blow, Hanyu Gen released Toji’s arm, shoved him outward to create distance, and stepped backward to put some breathing room between them.
Allowing this man to close in was terrifying. His punching speed and raw power were staggering, and every single blow forced him back a step. Though he could track every incoming attack, blocking them was still an uphill battle.
He vaguely remembered that back at the police academy, the instructors used to call a few individuals from his class “gorillas.” But seeing him now, this man named Toji Fushiguro was a true gorilla in the flesh.
Yet despite the taxing nature of the physical exchange, Hanyu Gen did not stop thinking. His ability to remain calm and devoid of fear became his greatest advantage at that moment.
As they clashed once again, Hanyu Gen quickly noticed that although Toji’s movements were clean and his strikes vicious, none of his attacks targeted fatal vitals.
Given that the man was clearly a professional assassin, there was only one reason he wasn’t aiming for kill shots.
“Your mission isn’t to kill me? Then what is it?”
Toji let out a breath, silently muttering to himself. Originally, his assignment had been to simply teach the newly arrived teacher at the Tokyo Jujutsu High School a lesson easy money with minimal effort, a job Toji was more than happy to accept.
Yet it was painfully obvious that those people knew nothing about their new teacher. Was this supposed to be an ordinary person? He was clearly thoroughly trained, and an elite among elites at that.
As a Heavenly Restriction bearer, Toji’s physical combat techniques had already reached absolute perfection. Yet this ordinary man named Hanyu Gen was somehow able to trade blows with him for this long without losing ground.
While part of that was because he hadn’t gone for a killing blow, it was still more than enough to prove his opponent’s formidable caliber.
Hearing Hanyu Gen correctly deduce the truth, Toji exhaled and replied, “That’s right. The job I took was just to teach you a lesson.”
Hanyu Gen’s eyes rolled thoughtfully. “An assignment issued by the Jujutsu Headquarters?”
Lately, they were the only ones at odds with him, stemming from that business of trying to pressure him into becoming their insider. Wanting to teach him a lesson fit that motive; if they killed him, after all, who would act as their plant?
Maintaining his professional ethics as an assassin, Toji answered, “I can’t disclose client information.”
Even without confirmation, Hanyu Gen knew full well. It seemed this matter was open to negotiation.
“How much did they pay you? I’ll double it if you turn around and beat them up instead. How does that sound?”
“Can’t do that,” Toji replied with a straight face. “I still want to take on jobs in the future; I can’t pull a stunt like that.”
If word got out in the underworld that he took a client’s money only to turn around and contract out a hit on them, nobody would ever hire him again.
Hanyu Gen nodded understandingly. “Let’s phrase it differently, then. They only told you to teach me a lesson, without specifying the degree of the lesson, correct?”
“Correct.”
Those people had assumed that the moment Toji made a move, Hanyu Gen wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Then there’s no problem.” Hanyu Gen wore a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I feel I have already received an adequate lesson, don’t you? And I imagine Mr. Fushiguro wouldn’t want to alienate his next financial backer, right?”
At that, Toji neatly withdrew his hands and broke into a satisfied grin. “You’ve got a point.”
Getting paid twice for a single job meant he made out like a bandit.
Finally finished with the brawl, Hanyu Gen leaned forward with his hands braced on his knees, taking several deep breaths. He had indeed grown a bit rusty lately; his stamina couldn’t keep up. It looked like he needed to get back into a regular physical regimen.
After resting for a minute, he pulled a bank card from his bag. “There are five million on this. Consider it a retainer; once I get good news, I’ll hand over the rest.”
“Not enough.”
Hanyu Gen hadn’t expected this small sum to satisfy him entirely, knowing a top-tier assassin’s rates were certainly higher than that.
“It’s just the deposit. Once it’s done, I’ll pay you the remainder. Twenty million total, how’s that?”
“Deal.” Toji grinned, flashing a row of white teeth as his attitude toward his financial benefactor turned exceptionally warm. “Should we exchange contact info?”
Hanyu Gen nodded, fished out his phone to trade contact details with him, and added a parting warning: “Don’t let anyone know about me.”
Toji flashed an OK sign, shoved his hands into his pockets, and strolled off cheerfully.
Once his figure vanished entirely from sight, Hanyu Gen straightened his clothes and headed toward the cafe where he had agreed to meet Gogol.
He had arrived very early to begin with, so even with the detour to trade blows with Toji Fushiguro, he wasn’t late and arrived right on the dot.
Gogol was already there, attired in his full white magician outfit. The combination of his tall white top hat and suit cape made everyone in the cafe turn to stare.
Unsurprisingly, sitting right beside him was a man wrapped heavily in thick winter clothing and wearing a white fleece ushanka Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Ah, what a pain.
Sighing inwardly, Hanyu Gen walked over. As soon as he took the seat opposite them, Gogol asked with sparkling curiosity, “Did something happen?”
His friend always made a point of arriving early; showing up right on the scheduled minute meant something must have delayed him beforehand.
Hanyu Gen shook his head. “Just shook off a pesky little tail.”
Seeing how lightly he brushed it off, Gogol didn’t dwell on it. “Hahaha, question time! Why did we choose to meet here?”
Hanyu Gen was already well accustomed to this guy’s dramatic unpredictability and knew he wouldn’t actually be startled. “Because this is where we first met.”
They didn’t have any shared “old haunts”; if pressed, the only place that fit was where they had crossed paths initially.
Gogol looked at the calm, serene young man before him and suddenly burst into laughter. “Gen really gave me quite a fright back then! I remember thinking to myself: Goodness, have I run into another kindred spirit just like Dostoevsky-kun?”
“Apologies, but I have no intention of joining any organization.”
Inside the cafe, the blue-haired youth politely rejected the man seated across from him. His striking golden eyes burned with absolute, unshakeable resolution, leaving no room for anyone to misinterpret his stance.
Gogol, who happened to be passing by at that moment, instantly felt a spark of interest in this young man. Refusing to join any organization? Such a free-spirited mindset resonated deeply with his own philosophy!
As soon as the man in the suit trying to recruit him walked away disappointed, Gogol took the initiative to sit across from the blue-haired youth. “Question! Why won’t you join any organization?”
Back then, the youth was far from as gentle as he would later become, his expression detached and cold. Showing not the slightest concern for the stranger’s eccentric attire, he didn’t even dignify the question with an answer as he prepared to stand up and leave.
“The clown has planted a bomb at the entrance, you know! If you walk away, then Bang!”
“The whole restaurant’s going to blow up!” Judging solely by Gogol’s innocent, joyful expression, no one would ever guess he was uttering such terrifying words.
And what does that have to do with me?
Hanyu Gen had thought that instinctively, yet he still paused, turned around, and answered with a blank face, “That’s wrong. What is it you want?”
Gogol asked with a beaming smile, “Just answering the clown’s question! Why don’t you want to join any organization?”
“I don’t want to be bound,” Hanyu Gen replied. If answering a single question could prevent the restaurant from blowing up, he was willing to humor him. Not out of sympathy or for the sake of justice, but simply because doing so was the right thing to do.
Hearing his answer, Gogol’s eyes lit up with profound delight. “You think so too?”
“It’s a pity we’re still quite different, though.” Gogol sounded slightly disappointed, yet not quite disappointed in the genuine sense.
He quickly shook off the mood, his face breaking into an expression of extreme excitement. “Gen! Come join us! Let’s change this world that traps our freedom together!”
It was an old, familiar refrain; Hanyu Gen couldn’t even remember how many times he had turned him down. “No, haven’t I explained this already? I’m not—”
Before he could finish, Fyodor interrupted from the side, “Gen-kun, isn’t Jujutsu High considered an organization as well? You said before that you wouldn’t join any organization, and we respected your decision. But now that you’ve already joined one, why can’t it be us? We are extremely eager to welcome Japan’s very first Overcapping esper into our ranks!”
Gogol nodded in agreement. “Exactly! The clown is very much looking forward to becoming comrades with you, Gen!”
“If Gen-kun can’t give us a brand-new explanation, and still refuses to join us…” Fyodor rested his chin on one hand, smiling faintly as he spoke, “Then we’ll simply have to visit your current workplace to try and persuade you in person.”
Hanyu Gen’s expression remained calm and detached. “Are you threatening me?”