Sizzle, sizzle—
Succulent wagyu beef hissed appetizingly over the charcoal fire.
Golden fat trickled slowly down the marbling, dripping into the glowing red coals and sending up a mouthwatering aroma of seared meat.
This was a high-end yakiniku restaurant located in Ginza.
Normally, a place like this would be an unthinkable luxury for jujutsu sorcerers living on nothing but a student stipend.
But today was different.
Because the one picking up the tab was the man who called himself the strongest.
"Eat your fill, everyone! It's on me today!"
Satoru Gojo sat at the head of the long table, raising a glass of expensive sake.
Even behind his blindfold, everyone could sense his insufferably smug delight.
"To celebrate everyone making it back alive! Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
The cheers instantly filled the private room.
Nobara Kugisaki was already in the zone, her chopsticks flying like a whirlwind as she precisely snatched up every perfectly grilled piece of marbled beef.
"Maki-senpai! That piece is mine!"
"Save it! Finders keepers!"
Maki Zenin wasn't backing down either. Their chopsticks clashed over the grill with a sharp metallic ring, as if they were already in a sudden-death overtime of the Goodwill Event.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the table...
Megumi Fushiguro was reluctantly serving as the designated griller.
He flipped the meat on the wire rack with practiced ease, his eyes dead, as if he had already attained enlightenment and seen through the vanities of the world.
"Fushiguro, two more plates of beef tongue!"
Yuji Itadori shouted with his mouth full, his words muffled by the food.
"I'm on it. Stop rushing me."
Megumi sighed, though his hands never stopped moving.
Just then...
A figure built like a steel tower squeezed over and sat down right next to Yuji, making the table shake.
"My brother!"
Aoi Todo, shirtless as usual, held up a mug of beer with a smile that was frankly unsettling.
"That battle earlier was exhilarating! However, our philosophical discussion regarding 'asses and souls' is far from over!"
*Pffft—*
Yuji nearly sprayed meat everywhere.
"Todo-senpai! We're eating right now!"
"Eating and philosophy are not mutually exclusive!"
Todo looked dead serious, his rugged face etched with the pursuit of truth.
"The human soul is at its most relaxed when savoring a meal! That is the perfect time to tackle such profound topics and strike at their very essence!"
Watching this scene from the corner, Yoru couldn't help but let a smile tug at his lips.
He held a cup of warm barley tea, quietly observing the rowdy yet heartwarming display.
No blood.
No slaughter.
No disgusting cursed spirits.
Just friends bickering and laughing, and the pure satisfaction brought by food.
"This is nice."
He murmured softly to himself.
This kind of ordinary happiness was a luxury that had been utterly out of reach for him back when he was Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
In that era swarming with demons...
Every meeting could have been a final farewell.
But now...
[DING!]
At that moment, a crisp system notification suddenly rang in his mind.
Yoru paused slightly and set down his teacup.
His consciousness sank into his mind.
The familiar translucent panel slowly appeared.
[SYSTEM: HOST PERFORMED EXCELLENTLY DURING THE SISTER SCHOOL GOODWILL EVENT.]
[SYSTEM: SUCCESSFULLY REPELLED SPECIAL GRADE CURSED SPIRIT HANAMI AND HEAVILY INJURED SPECIAL GRADE CURSED SPIRIT JOGO.]
[SYSTEM: DEMONSTRATED COMBAT INSTINCTS BEYOND THOSE OF ORDINARY MORTALS WHILE COORDINATING WITH SATORU GOJO.]
[SYSTEM: CURRENT SYNCHRONIZATION RATE HAS INCREASED TO 22%.]
[SYSTEM: CONGRATULATIONS TO THE HOST FOR OBTAINING SPECIAL INTEL: THE ADVANCED FORM OF THE TRANSPARENT WORLD.]
[SYSTEM: NOTE: ALTHOUGH THE TRANSPARENT WORLD CAN SEE THROUGH THE FLOW OF ALL THINGS, IT IS ULTIMATELY THE LIMIT OF A MORTAL.]
[SYSTEM: IF YOU WISH TO TOUCH THE DOMAIN OF THE GODS, DISCERN THE ESSENCE OF CURSED ENERGY, OR EVEN INTERFERE WITH CAUSALITY...]
[SYSTEM: PERHAPS YOU NEED A PAIR OF EYES THAT CAN TRULY SEE EVERYTHING.]
Eyes that can truly see everything?
Yoru's pupils constricted sharply.
In this world, if there was any pair of eyes that could be described as seeing everything...
There was only one type.
The Six Eyes.
The Eyes of Heaven, born into the Gojo family only once every few centuries.
Yoru instinctively looked up at the man sitting at the head of the table.
Satoru Gojo was laughing boisterously, his eyes hidden behind the blindfold as if concealing endless secrets.
Was the system implying...
That it wanted him to take the Six Eyes?
A chill instantly shot up Yoru's spine.
No, that's insane.
Setting aside the fact that Gojo was his teacher and the person who had shown him the most kindness so far...
Purely in terms of strength, trying to take the Six Eyes now was nothing short of a pipe dream.
But...
What if that really is what the system means?
Would his synchronization with Yoriichi Tsugikuni eventually lead to an inevitable confrontation with the strongest being in this world?
"Yoru, what are you spacing out for?"
Suddenly...
A piece of perfectly charred pork belly was dropped into his bowl.
Yoru snapped back to reality.
Yuji Itadori was looking at him with a bright grin, tongs still in hand.
"Hurry up and eat! This is the best piece Fushiguro's grilled so far! If you don't eat it now, Kugisaki's gonna snatch it!"
"Hey! Itadori! Who are you calling a thief?!"
Nobara brandished her chopsticks, ready to charge.
"Hahaha!"
Watching everyone fool around, Yoru suppressed the shock and doubt in his heart.
Regardless of the system's intent...
At least for now...
He was a member of Jujutsu High, and he was their comrade.
He picked up the meat and popped it into his mouth.
The fat melted on his tongue, carrying a hint of smoky char.
It was delicious.
Truly delicious.
'I will protect all of this.'
He made a silent vow to himself.
Whether it was Yuji's smile, Megumi's exasperation, or Nobara's energy.
He wouldn't let anyone destroy it.
Not even the so-called King of Curses.
Once everyone was full and satisfied...
The group walked out of the yakiniku restaurant, still buzzing with energy.
Gojo held the long receipt, and although he grumbled about how expensive it was, the corners of his mouth beneath the blindfold remained turned up.
To him...
Seeing these students alive and well was more important than anything else.
After all...
The path of a sorcerer was always paved with death and departure.
A moment of pure joy was a rare blessing.
...
Meanwhile...
In a dark, damp sewer somewhere in Tokyo.
Drip.
Drip.
Dirty water dripped from rusted pipes, creating ripples in the puddles below.
The air was thick with the stench of rot and mildew.
"You look pathetic, Jogo."
A playful voice rang out in the darkness.
Mahito sat atop a pile of construction debris, fiddling with a human skull, a mocking smile on his face.
Opposite him...
Jogo leaned against a corner, his face—which usually only had one eye—now etched with agony.
Nearly half of his body was gone.
It was the scar left behind after being grazed by Satoru Gojo's Hollow Purple.
While his regenerative abilities as a cursed spirit were exceptional, that kind of damage—which directly erased matter—had left him severely weakened.
Beside him...
Hanami wasn't faring much better.
Its once-indestructible wooden armor was now riddled with cracks, and a deep, shocking sword wound marked its chest.
That was Yoru's handiwork.
Not only was the wound failing to heal, but a lingering heat continued to burn, hindering the flow of cursed energy.
"Shut up, Mahito."
Jogo spat through gritted teeth, his lone eye gleaming with malice.
"That brat Yoru... there's something wrong with his blade."
"Oh?"
Mahito raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.
"In what way?"
"The blade was imbued with a strange power."
Jogo shivered slightly as he recalled the scene.
"It wasn't cursed energy."
"It was like... the sun."
"The sun?"
Mahito blinked, then burst into a fit of piercing laughter.
"Hahaha! Jogo, did you get hit in the head too hard? Cursed spirits hate the sun more than anything. How could anyone hold the sun in their hands?"
"Believe it or not, it's the truth."
Jogo snorted and fell silent.
Just then...
Footsteps approached from deep within the sewer.
A man wearing monk's robes with stitches across his forehead stepped into view.
Kenjaku (Pseudo-Geto).
He looked at the bedraggled group, showing no sign of disappointment. Instead, a meaningful smile played on his lips.
"Well done, everyone."
"Though the mission failed, we didn't come away empty-handed."
He walked up to Hanami and reached out to gently touch the wound that refused to close.
A sharp sting pricked his fingertip.
"So that's how it is..."
Kenjaku narrowed his eyes as if contemplating something fascinating.
"That boy is indeed a massive variable."
"However."
"The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow it casts."
He turned around and looked into the endless darkness behind him.
"Since a frontal assault is ineffective..."
"...we'll just have to try a different approach."
"For instance, by stabbing him right where it hurts the most..."
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