Chapter 89: Mei Mei's Business Sense
Three days later, Tokyo Jujutsu High had become the center of the entire Jujutsu world.
News of Yami's survival had spread like wildfire.
Not just survival.
He had entered a sealed death trap, faced three mutated Special Grade Cursed Spirits inside a layered Domain, and walked back out alive. That alone would have been enough to shake the old order. But the details made it worse.
No cursed energy.
First year.
A mission officially classified as Grade 1.
A result that surpassed Special Grade expectations.
Each of those points was shocking on its own. Put together, they sounded absurd enough to be dismissed as rumor.
And yet no one could dismiss them.
Not after the nuclear plant had gone silent.
Not after the Higher Ups had suddenly stopped talking.
Not after Gojo Satoru himself had personally announced that Yami's Special Grade evaluation would be held in public.
So the Jujutsu world did what it always did when something beyond common sense appeared.
It gossiped.
"Did you hear?"
"That first year from Tokyo, Yami, the one with no cursed energy…"
"They're saying he killed three Special Grades by himself."
"Inside a triple layered Domain."
"That has to be exaggerated."
"Exaggerated? Since when does Gojo bother exaggerating for someone else?"
"I still don't believe it. No cursed energy means no cursed energy. There has to be some trick."
"Then come watch the evaluation."
That last sentence was the one spreading fastest.
Come watch.
Everyone wanted to see it.
The clans wanted to see it.
The independent sorcerers wanted to see it.
The people who feared him wanted to see it.
The people hoping he would fail wanted to see it even more.
Which was exactly why, at the center of the storm, someone like Mei Mei was smiling.
The tea room she had chosen was small, elegant, and deliberately private. Sunlight filtered through the paper window behind her, tracing pale lines across the table. A glass of red wine sat in her hand as if it belonged there naturally, even in broad daylight.
Mei Mei looked over the rim of the glass and smiled with all the warmth of a businesswoman spotting a mountain of cash walking on two legs.
"Yami kun," she said, voice smooth as silk, "you've really made a spectacular mess this time."
Across from her, Yami sat quietly, one hand resting against the black hilt of Shiranui.
"A mess?"
His tone was flat.
"I nearly died."
Mei Mei's smile widened.
"But you didn't."
She took a slow sip of wine.
"Not only did you survive, you came back and slapped the Higher Ups in the face so hard they still haven't recovered."
Her eyes gleamed.
"That's not just surviving. That's market value."
Yami looked at her for a moment, then said mildly, "You didn't invite me here to praise me."
"Of course not."
Mei Mei set the glass down with precise elegance.
"I'm here to talk business."
Yami said nothing.
That was permission enough.
Mei Mei reached into her bag and took out a document, sliding it across the table toward him.
"This," she said, "is the recommendation file for your Special Grade evaluation."
Yami glanced down at it.
Mei Mei leaned back slightly.
"Gojo has already secured the opportunity for you, but procedure still matters. Officially, a promotion to Special Grade requires more than spectacle. It requires support."
She raised one finger.
"At least two Grade 1 sorcerers willing to recommend the candidate."
Her smile sharpened.
"Gojo counts as one."
Then she pointed at herself.
"I'm willing to be the second."
Yami's eyes lifted from the paper.
He did not look surprised.
"Your condition?"
Mei Mei let out a soft laugh.
"There it is. That's why I enjoy speaking with smart people."
She rested one elbow lightly on the table.
"It's simple. The Higher Ups are cornered now, which means they'll be even uglier than usual. They can't openly deny your evaluation anymore, not after everything that happened. So instead, they'll make the test itself as inconvenient as possible."
Yami's fingers tapped once against the scabbard.
"Inconvenient how?"
Mei Mei's gaze sharpened.
"They'll choose something that sounds fair on paper but is designed to embarrass you in public."
She spoke with total certainty.
"For example…"
A slow smile spread across her face.
"They'll use an absurdly strong barrier as the subject of the test."
Yami stayed silent.
Mei Mei continued.
"A special grade cursed barrier core. Something famous for its defensive capacity. Something that can be presented to the public as a neutral standard."
Her eyes narrowed with delight.
"And then they'll ask you to cut it down in one strike."
Yami understood immediately.
In the eyes of the broader Jujutsu world, his greatest weakness was still obvious.
No cursed energy.
No Domain.
No conventional techniques.
That meant the best way to attack his legitimacy was not to question his results.
It was to force him into a stage where everyone could watch him fail.
Mei Mei folded her hands.
"And that," she said, "is where I come in."
Yami gave her a long look.
"And?"
Mei Mei smiled like a fox.
"And I open a betting pool."
Silence.
Then Yami laughed.
Not loudly.
Just enough to show he understood exactly what kind of woman he was dealing with.
"Of course you do."
"Of course I do," Mei Mei repeated, completely unapologetic. "Think about it. The odds will be outrageous."
She leaned forward, voice lowering in excitement.
"Most people still cannot fully accept what you are. They'll assume there must be a limit somewhere. They'll tell themselves that fighting living curses is one thing, but cutting through an absolute barrier without cursed energy is another."
Her smile grew more dazzling.
"They'll bet against you."
Yami looked at her without expression.
"And when they lose?"
"We split the profits."
Mei Mei tapped the table lightly with one manicured nail.
"Fifty fifty."
Yami said nothing for a second.
Then he stood.
The room changed instantly.
The movement was small, but the pressure in the tea room sharpened in an instant. Shiranui slid half an inch from its sheath with a soft, clean sound, and the air around Mei Mei seemed to develop an edge.
Not killing intent.
Not quite.
But enough to remind her that the man in front of her was not merely a profitable investment.
He was a blade.
Yami looked down at her.
"Fifty fifty?"
He shook his head.
"No."
Mei Mei's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That's not a very good way to negotiate, Yami kun."
"Seventy thirty," he said.
His voice was calm.
"Seventy for me. Thirty for you."
Mei Mei clicked her tongue very softly.
"That's greed."
Yami's hand remained on the blade.
"Greed?"
His eyes were steady.
"I'm not just going to pass."
The half-drawn steel whispered against the scabbard.
"I'm going to win in a way that leaves them with nothing to say."
The sharpness in the room deepened.
"I want every person in that audience to understand one thing."
His expression did not change, but the conviction in his voice sharpened into something that almost sounded arrogant.
"That what I do isn't luck."
"It isn't a fluke."
"It isn't some accident they can explain away because I don't fit their rules."
He pushed the blade back into place with a quiet click.
"This isn't only business."
"It's a message."
Mei Mei stared at him for a long moment.
Then, very slowly, she picked up her glass again.
The smile that returned to her face was different this time.
Less amused.
More interested.
"Seventy thirty, then."
She raised the glass slightly.
"Deal."
Yami sat back down.
Mei Mei took a sip, then watched him over the rim.
"Still, I am curious."
There was no mockery in her tone now. Only professional fascination.
"That barrier they're likely to use is famous for a reason. If the reports are true, it can withstand even the force of Gojo's [Red] without collapsing cleanly."
She lowered the glass.
"Are you really certain?"
Her eyes flicked once toward the case at his side.
"That a strike without cursed energy can cut through something like that?"
Yami didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he rose once more, took hold of Shiranui, and turned toward the door.
When he reached it, he stopped.
Sunlight touched the edge of his shoulder.
He did not look back.
"Get ready to count your money," he said.
His voice was quiet.
Certain.
In that certainty there was not even the slightest trace of doubt.
Then he stepped forward and added,
"In this world…"
His fingers settled against the hilt.
"There is nothing my blade cannot cut."
.....
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