Chapter 122: Utahime's Thank-You Gift
"This sword will cost three hundred thousand yen in compensation."
Mei Mei's voice echoed through the ruined hall of the abandoned mansion, calm and pleasant, with just enough amusement to make it sting.
Yami looked down at the standard-issue tachi in his hand.
Or rather, what was left of it.
The blade had shattered into metal fragments, leaving him holding nothing but a bare hilt.
His mouth twitched.
Three hundred thousand yen.
For an external instructor who had just started working at Jujutsu High and had yet to receive his first salary, that number landed harder than the Cursed Spirit he had just cut down.
The identity file forged by the System was flawless.
Unfortunately, the System had not bothered to include start-up funds.
"Yaga-sensei is definitely going to scold you," Satoru Gojo said from the side, openly gloating.
He had already forgotten that Yami had stolen his kill.
Suguru Geto smiled like a fox adding oil to the fire.
"Destroying public property is a rather serious matter, Instructor Yami."
Yami glanced at the two problem children and seriously considered whether beating them up counted as instructor-guided emotional regulation.
Before he could decide, a slightly nervous voice came from beside him.
"U-Um…"
Utahime Iori had straightened her somewhat messy miko outfit. Her face was still red, though whether from embarrassment or leftover anger at Gojo was hard to say.
She took a deep breath, then bowed deeply to Yami.
"Mr. Yami, thank you very much for saving my life!"
If not for his strike, she would probably have been skewered by that disgusting Grade 1 Cursed Spirit like some kind of cursed candied hawthorn.
Compared with those two bastards who only knew how to watch and mock people, Yami was practically an angel.
"It was nothing. Senior Utahime, there's no need to be so formal."
Yami put away the broken hilt, his tone gentle.
The word "senior" struck Utahime directly in the heart.
Her favorability rose at a terrifying speed.
"To show my gratitude…"
Utahime's eyes wandered slightly, unable to meet Yami's deep red gaze for too long.
"If you don't mind, after we return to Jujutsu High, I'll treat you to something to eat."
"Oh? Food? I want some too!"
Gojo leaned in immediately, like a cat that had smelled fish.
"Get lost! None for you!"
Utahime snapped at him on the spot.
Yami watched the chaotic exchange and shook his head helplessly.
The next day.
Tokyo Jujutsu High, at the edge of the training grounds.
A detailed mission report had already landed on the desks of the higher-ups and the Big Three Families.
The report mentioned Satoru Gojo's destructive use of Blue, but another unfamiliar name had been circled with special emphasis.
Yami.
No Cursed Energy.
Suspected Heavenly Restriction.
Using only a common standard-issue tachi, he had killed a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit that was close to Semi-Special Grade in a single strike.
That intelligence fell into the conservative world of the Big Three Families like a stone dropped into still water.
Especially the Zenin Family.
A family that valued bloodline, inherited techniques, and Cursed Energy above all else could not ignore a man who had none of those things, yet possessed power comparable to a Grade 1 sorcerer.
At that moment, Yami was sitting on a bench near the training grounds, enjoying a rare peaceful break.
Beside him sat an elegant food box.
Inside were handmade snacks that Utahime had prepared as thanks.
"Mr. Yami, please try some."
Utahime sat beside him, watching him with visible anticipation.
"These are red bean daifuku. I stayed up last night making them."
Yami had just picked one up.
He had not even taken a bite when an irritating voice shattered the pleasant mood.
"Well, well. Isn't this the trash with no Cursed Energy?"
Several men in traditional kimono walked over with the Zenin Family crest embroidered on their chests.
The man leading them was middle-aged, with a small mustache and narrow, unpleasant eyes. He carried himself like someone used to being obeyed.
A messenger from the Zenin Family.
More accurately, someone sent to test Yami.
Utahime's expression darkened. She stood up at once and stepped in front of Yami.
"Who are you? This is Tokyo Jujutsu High, not somewhere the Zenin Family can act however it pleases."
The middle-aged man glanced at her with open contempt.
"Utahime Iori, step aside. You have no authority here."
He looked past her and fixed his gaze on Yami. His eyes held undisguised greed and scrutiny.
"You're Yami, correct?"
"I heard you possess no Cursed Energy, yet your physical ability is comparable to a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer."
His tone grew more condescending.
"In the Zenin Family, even an extremely rare Heavenly Restriction is still considered inferior without proper lineage and discipline. Still, you may have some value as a tool."
Utahime's face twisted with anger.
The man continued as if granting charity.
"The head of the family has given an order. We suspect you may be an illegitimate bloodline of the Zenin Family who wandered outside."
"Come back with us and undergo bloodline testing. If your identity is confirmed, the Zenin Family may make an exception and grant you the lowest seat in the Hei."
He lifted his chin.
"You should kneel and show your gratitude."
The air went cold.
Illegitimate bloodline.
Tool.
Trash.
Utahime trembled with rage. Her fingers tightened until her knuckles turned white.
Before she could speak, a warm hand lightly touched her shoulder.
Yami stood up.
He calmly placed the untouched red bean daifuku back into the food box.
The gentleness in his red eyes faded, leaving something deep and cold behind.
"The Zenin Family?"
His voice remained calm. There was even a faint smile in it.
But the smile made the surrounding air feel heavier.
"You really are a pack of rotten oranges. Arrogant enough to make a person sick."
The middle-aged man's face flushed with fury.
"How dare you! You dare insult the Zenin Family?"
Bang!
He never finished the sentence.
A heavy, dull impact rang out.
The middle-aged man shot backward like a cannonball. Blood sprayed from his mouth, mixed with several broken teeth. His body slammed into a large tree more than ten meters away, leaving a deep crack in the trunk.
The sound of bones breaking was clear.
The remaining Zenin attendants froze.
They had not even seen who moved.
Yami was still standing in the same spot, his clothes perfectly still.
In front of him, Satoru Gojo had appeared at some point, one leg extended in a side-kick posture.
He slowly lowered his foot and adjusted the round sunglasses on his nose.
Behind the lenses, his Six Eyes shone with a dangerous, icy light.
"Get lost."
Gojo's voice was not loud.
That made it worse.
"He's my exclusive instructor. Someone I'm protecting."
His smile was arrogant, violent, and utterly fearless.
"What does the Zenin Family think it is, coming to Jujutsu High to snatch people? And you even dared to call him illegitimate?"
Gojo tilted his head.
"Say one more word of nonsense, and I'll turn every last one of you into garbage."
The Zenin attendants went pale.
Their legs nearly gave out beneath them.
They scrambled over to drag away the unconscious middle-aged man, then fled the training grounds like beaten dogs.
Not one of them dared to leave behind a threat.
They knew very well that Satoru Gojo was not bluffing.
Utahime stared blankly at Gojo's back.
For the first time, she felt that this white-haired jerk who bullied her every day seemed, maybe, possibly…
A little cool.
Then Gojo turned around.
Without the slightest shame, he reached into the food box, grabbed the largest red bean daifuku, and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Mmm! Delicious! Utahime, you're pretty good at this."
He picked up the entire box and ran.
"I'll take these!"
The faint emotion in Utahime's heart shattered on the spot.
"Gojo Satoru!"
Her scream rang across the training grounds.
"That was my thank-you gift for Mr. Yami! Spit it out! Right now!"
Utahime chased after him in a rage, while Gojo ran with the box like a thief who had achieved enlightenment.
Yami stood where he was, watching the chaotic scene, and could not help laughing.
Then his gaze shifted toward the direction where the Zenin messengers had fled.
The smile in his eyes cooled.
"An illegitimate child of Heavenly Restriction?"
His voice was light, but something dangerous moved beneath it.
"It seems I really do need to visit the Zenin Family."
Yami slowly clenched his fist.
"Tell Naobito Zenin."
A calm, unyielding pressure settled over his words.
"I'll be paying him a personal visit."
Whether that visit would be a polite greeting or a one-sided challenge depended entirely on how much common sense the Zenin Family had left.
Yami felt the blood in his body begin to heat.
Perhaps it was time.
Time to let those decaying Big Three Families see what true power looked like.
…..
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