The silence inside the Uzumaki mansion reception room was heavy enough to suffocate an ordinary man.
Satoru Gojo remained stretched out across the expensive leather couch, completely indifferent to the glaring eyes of Japan's most powerful elite. He balanced a small, ornamental ceramic cup on the tip of his finger, spinning it lazily.
Uzumaki Makoto stood perfectly still by the window, his posture rigid.
Finally, the old man spoke.
"Oden belongs to the Uzumaki lineage."
His voice carried the weight of decades of absolute authority.
"We are his family. It is only proper that he be allowed to be taken in by the Uzumaki Family, where his heritage can be respected and secured."
Gojo didn't even look up from his spinning cup. He let out a loud, theatrical yawn.
"Yeah, yeah. I hear a lot of 'proper' and a lot of 'heritage,'" Gojo drawled, his voice dripping with mock boredom. "But you're directing all this ancient energy at the wrong guy, old man."
Yusuke, stepped forward, his fists tightening. "Gojo-san, we know you are keeping him isolated at Tokyo Jujutsu High. You are restricting access to our own flesh and blood."
"Restricting?"
Gojo finally stopped spinning the cup. He tilted his head back, his blindfold pointing directly toward Yusuke.
"Let's get something perfectly straight. I haven't done a single thing to stop Oden from visiting his dear old family. If he wanted to come over here and eat your fancy little snacks, he'd be here."
Gojo chuckled, a sharp, mocking sound.
"The reality is way simpler: Oden is the one who doesn't want to see you. The kid literally couldn't care less about this giant, creepy house."
Makoto's expression didn't waver, but the air in the room grew noticeably colder. He turned away from the window and gestured toward Jiji, the formal suit-clad bodyguard standing near the entrance.
Jiji stepped forward silently, placing a pristine leather briefcase onto the low table in front of Gojo.
The latches clicked open.
Inside lay stacks of tightly bound, high-denomination bonds alongside an official financial transfer document with a staggering string of zeroes. It made the 100 million yen paid to Mei Mei look like pocket change.
"We are fully aware that a Special Grade sorcerer requires immense resources," Makoto said calmly. "Consider this a gesture of our goodwill. Name any amount, any asset, or any political favor. The Uzumaki Family will ensure it is delivered directly to you."
Gojo stared at the open briefcase for three long seconds.
Then, he burst into hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.
He laughed so hard he clutched his stomach, kicking his legs up onto the armrest of the luxury couch. The sound echoed painfully off the traditional sliding walls.
"Oh, stop! Please, you're killing me!" Gojo gasped for air, wiping an imaginary tear from beneath his blindfold. "You rich folks really only have one trick, don't you? Money? You honestly think money could sway *me*?"
He leaned forward, his playful demeanor instantly vanishing, replaced by an icy, terrifying void of pure power.
"I am Satoru Gojo. There is literally nothing in this world your money can buy that I cannot take by simply existing. Keep your paper."
Makoto narrowed his eyes. The financial bribe had failed exactly as he expected, but he still had one card left to play.
"Then let us speak of power, Gojo-san," Makoto countered, his voice narrowing. "Oden is talented, yes. A monster in the making. But if he is to go even higher as a sorcerer, he will need to understand his family background. He needs to know the origin of his serpent eyes and the exact nature of the blood flowing through his veins. Only we possess the ancestral records to provide that."
Gojo raised a finger, considering the point.
"Hmm. Indeed, knowing his background would help," Gojo admitted, his tone conversational again. "It would make things a little faster, sure."
He stood up from the couch, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.
"But that doesn't mean it's the only way. You vastly underestimate the kid. Oden is already ridiculously talented. He's a freak of nature. He will become a legendary sorcerer with or without your dusty family knowledge."
Gojo took a step toward the exit, completely dismissing the two men.
"So, to wrap this up nicely..." Gojo smiled brightly. "Go fuck yourselves."
Yusuke's face turned entirely red with rage. He lost all his corporate composure, stepping directly into Gojo's path.
"Do not think your strange powers make you completely untouchable, sorcerer!" Yusuke snarled, recalling his father's terrifying descriptions of the hidden world. "The Uzumaki Family has deep ties within the Ministry of Defense. We control corporate contracts that dictate military logistics. We can authorize full military action against Tokyo Jujutsu High. Ballistic missiles, private airstrikes, international sanctions. We can level your entire school!"
Gojo froze.
Then, he slowly lowered his head, shoulders shaking.
He wasn't shaking from fear. He was laughing again.
"Military action?" Gojo chuckled softly, lifting his blindfold just enough to reveal a single, gleaming, sky-blue eye. "Go ahead. Call in your little jets. Fire your little missiles. I'll catch them all and drop them right back on your front lawn. It might actually give me something fun to do on a Tuesday."
Before Yusuke could scream another threat, the heavy sliding doors of the reception room didn't just open. They violently shattered inward.
*BOOM!*
The wood splintered into fragments as a figure blasted into the room.
Several elite security guards stumbled in right behind her, their uniforms disheveled and faces pale with panic.
"Forgive us, Master Makoto!" one of the guards cried out, clutching a bruised wrist. "We tried to stop her, but she—"
"Get out of my way!"
Uzumaki Tamaki pushed past the guards, completely ignoring the destruction she had just caused. Her breathing was ragged, her hair wild, and her elegant kimono was slightly torn at the sleeve.
She didn't look at Makoto. She didn't look at Yusuke.
Her tear-streaked eyes locked onto Satoru Gojo.
"Tamaki!" Yusuke barked. "Control yourself! This is a private—"
"Shut up!" she screamed back, a raw, primal roar that silenced her husband instantly.
Tamaki took three staggering steps forward and fell directly to her knees right in front of Gojo. Her hands slammed onto the polished wooden floor as she bowed her head down, tears splashing onto the timber.
"Gojo-san... please," Tamaki begged, her voice cracking with pure, unadulterated agony. "I am begging you. As a mother... please."
Gojo stood perfectly still, his hands still in his pockets, looking down at the weeping woman.
"I know what they want," Tamaki sobbed, her shoulders shaking violently. "They want the power. They want the legacy. But I don't care about any of that! I don't care about the Uzumaki name!"
She lifted her head, looking up at Gojo with bloodshot, desperate eyes.
"Please... just let me see my son. Just once. I know I don't deserve to touch him. I know I don't have the right to feel his warmth or hug him after everything that happened... I know I am a terrible mother. But please... just to look at him from afar... just to see that he is alive and breathing... that would be enough. Please!"
The raw emotion in the room shifted instantly. This wasn't a political play or a financial negotiation. It was the desperate, broken cry of a mother yearning for her child.
Gojo stared at her for a long moment. The absolute arrogance that usually radiated from him softened into a quiet, solemn stillness.
He let out a quiet sigh, scratching the back of his neck.
"Man... I really hate dealing with emotional stuff," Gojo muttered, though his voice lacked any real bite.
He walked past her toward the shattered doorway, stopping just for a second before leaving.
"Oden is his own person, Tamaki. I won't force him to do anything," Gojo said quietly, not looking back. "But... I'll see what I can do to pass along the message."
With that, his form blurred, vanishing from the mansion corridor in a flash of blue light.
---
Meanwhile, on the other side of Tokyo, the atmosphere was entirely different.
The thunderous sound of heavy balls crashing into wooden pins echoed through the vibrant, neon-lit lanes of a massive Tokyo bowling arena. Pop music blasted from the overhead speakers, completely drowning out any lingering thoughts of curses or assassination plots.
"Alright, everyone! Over here!"
Yuji Itadori stood next to Lane 14, waving his arms enthusiastically toward the incoming group.
Standing right beside Yuji were two familiar faces. Takeshi Iguchi, wearing his signature casual mesh cap, and Setsuko Sasaki, who was busy wiping her glasses while looking around the crowded alley.
Oden walked at the front of the Jujutsu High group, casually chewing on a piece of dried squid he had smuggled in. Behind him followed Maki, Yuta, Panda, and Toge.
"Yo, Yuji," Oden greeted, raising a lazy hand. "Brought the crew."
"Oden! You actually made it!" Yuji grinned widely, running over to give him a quick high-five.
Iguchi and Sasaki smiled warmly as Oden approached.
"Hey, Oden," Sasaki said, waving politely. "It's been a while since that whole movie theater incident. Glad to see you're doing well."
"Yeah, man, you look totally normal for a guy who goes to some super-exclusive religious school," Iguchi joked, nudging Oden's shoulder.
Oden turned around and gestured vaguely to the colorful assortment of sorcerers behind him.
"Guys, these are my schoolmates. That's Maki, she's the bossy one. The anxious kid is Yuta. The quiet one is Toge."
"Bonito flakes," Toge murmured, offering a small wave.
"And that's Panda," Oden concluded simply.
Yuji, Iguchi, and Sasaki collectively blinked, their eyes locking onto the massive, bipedal, walking plush animal standing in the middle of the public bowling alley.
Panda immediately raised both paws, giving a bright, friendly smile. "Hey there! Don't mind me, I'm just a really dedicated cosplayer! The suit is totally custom-made!"
"Whoa! That is an incredible mascot suit!" Yuji exclaimed, his eyes instantly shining with pure awe. "The fur looks so realistic!"
"Right?!" Panda laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "It's a pain to wash, though!"
Maki visibly pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath about the absolute absurdity of her life. Yuta just gave an embarrassed, apologetic smile to the non-sorcerers.
"Alright, enough talking!" Yuji suddenly declared, grabbing a bright red, fourteen-pound bowling ball from the return rack. His eyes burned with sudden, competitive fire. "We've got two lanes booked and the terms are set! The losing team has to buy the winners custom parfaits from the cafe downstairs!"
"Wait, I thought we were splitting the bill?" Oden asked, narrowing his serpent eyes suspiciously.
"Not anymore! Competition makes the food taste better!" Yuji laughed, stepping up to the approach line.
He took a deep breath, lined up his shot, and sprinted forward with the explosive athletic grace that defied human logic. With a powerful swing, he unleashed the ball.
It flew down the lane like a cannonball, completely ignoring the traditional spin and simply blasting straight down the center with terrifying velocity.
*CRASH!*
The pins didn't just fall. They exploded into the back pits, scattering with violent force.
"STRIKE!" the digital overhead screen flashed with flashing neon animations.
Yuji spun around, pumping his fist into the air. "Boom! That's how the Occult Research Club sets the standard! Your turn, Oden!"
Oden stared at the empty lane, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face as his serpent eyes gleamed under the flashing neon lights. He tossed his dried squid to Panda and reached for a heavy, black bowling ball.
"A challenge, huh?" Oden muttered, stepping up to the lane. "Don't cry when I break the machine, Yuji."
---
Find early chapters on my patreon
[Patreon.com/tenten100?]