The Six Eyes perceived the flow of cursed energy, but Mirai didn't need them to feel the absolute, paralyzing weight of the entire room's gaze fixed upon him.
Mirai didn't stop dancing. He smoothly executed a spin, struck a pose, and grinned at the horrified elite of the Three Great Families.
"What?" he asked innocently. "Do you guys want to learn? Are you interested?"
Shake, shake, shake! Every single person in the vicinity furiously shook their heads, their faces overflowing with pure, unadulterated rejection.
But Mirai, completely unfazed, narrowed his eyes into a deceptively sweet smile.
"There's no need to be shy! I know you all want to join in! Come on, let's dance!"
An unspoken, suffocating pressure suddenly crashed down on the crowd.
The elite sorcerers looked at each other. Then they looked at Mahoraga, whose massive, muscular arms were currently crossed as it flawlessly executed the techno footwork.
Faced with the threat of the Strongest Shikigami in history... they yielded.
Swallowing their immense pride, the high-ranking officials of the Three Great Families forced painfully stiff smiles onto their faces and joined the children's farce.
Suddenly, the grand exchange banquet transformed.
Men, women, the elderly, and the young—everyone began performing the awkward, infectious steps of the "Subject Three" dance. Even Takayanagi Mieko and Yukino Mafuyu found themselves pulled into the bizarre techno-party.
Standing off to the side, Gojo Satoru rolled his eyes so hard he nearly gave himself a headache.
"Oh my god," Satoru groaned, rubbing his temples. "Please, Kami-sama, give me a new pair of Six Eyes. Mine are permanently ruined from watching this."
"Satoru, what did you say?"
The Bluetooth speaker was blasting at maximum volume. Mafuyu tilted her head, a rare, vibrant flush on her cheeks. "Come dance with us! Mommy feels so much more energetic the more she moves!"
It was as if an ancient bloodline had awakened within her—the primal, undeniable urge of middle-aged women to participate in synchronized plaza dancing.
Finally, peer-pressured by his own mother, Gojo Satoru sighed in defeat and joined the Subject Three dance class, his expression a mask of absolute, indignant righteousness.
Click! Click! Click!
Near the entrance of the venue, peering through a narrow gap in the hinged double doors, Zenin Naobito wore an incredibly sleazy grin.
He held a high-end camera in his hands, admiring the freshly printed photographs.
"Hehe~ I finally caught you pretentious old ghosts slipping," Naobito chuckled darkly, looking at the photos of the Gojo and Kamo elders awkwardly dancing to techno music. "If I don't extort at least a billion or two out of your clans with these, my name isn't Zenin Naobito!"
Once the song ended and the dance floor cleared, Mirai returned to his original goal: recruiting Ieiri Shoko.
"No way!" Shoko stuck her tongue out, pulling a face. "The Zenin clan has the absolute worst reputation among the Three Great Families. I'd never join you! Bleh!"
Hearing this, Mirai wasn't angry. He just chuckled and smoothly pivoted.
"Okay, fair point. But... what if I recruit you on behalf of the Gojo clan? They have the best reputation among the Three Great Families, right? How about that?"
"Well..." Shoko tapped her chin, genuinely hesitating.
Behind her, her mother was already practically vibrating with joy! When Mirai had first proposed the recruitment, the mother had wanted to accept instantly. But the political implications of a civilian sorcerer joining the terrifying Zenin clan were too heavy, so she hadn't dared to act rashly.
However, when the young Zenin patriarch generously extended the olive branch on behalf of the Gojo clan instead, all hesitation vanished.
Stepping forward quickly, the mother gently shoved Shoko in the back. Agree! Quickly, just agree! she hissed under her breath.
Looking back at her frantic mother in confusion, Shoko sighed reluctantly. "I guess... I'll think about it?"
"I am so sorry, Zenin-sama! She misspoke!" The mother immediately bowed deeply at a perfect ninety-degree angle. "What she meant to say was: we have already thought about it, and we will gladly follow your arrangements!"
Before Shoko could protest, her mother grabbed her by the collar and aggressively dragged her away from the scene to finalize the paperwork.
With his enhanced Six Eyes perception, Mirai could still vaguely hear the mother aggressively scolding Shoko in the distance.
"Shoko! Haven't I taught you anything?! When dealing with big shots like them, as long as the request isn't completely unreasonable, you say YES!"
Achoo!
On the other side of the venue, surrounded by a crowd, Gojo Satoru rubbed his slightly red nose.
"Huh? Is someone talking bad about me behind my back?"
Inside the Gojo Clan's exclusive VIP reception room.
An octogenarian with a deeply solemn expression stood rigidly facing the floor-to-ceiling window. He leaned heavily on his cane, his eyes closed in quiet meditation.
"Boss, didn't you say you were going to go out and apologize to the boy? Why are you just standing here?"
The Second Elder of the Gojo clan, having just returned from stretching his legs, looked at the Great Elder in confusion.
The Great Elder slightly opened one eye. "I'm terrified that if I step out there, that boy will have the sudden urge to test his new Shikigami on my face. My fragile old bones cannot withstand the 'enthusiasm' of today's youth."
"I still want to live a few more years," the Great Elder added bleakly.
Recalling the terrifying, muscular silhouette of Mahoraga and Mirai's incredibly capricious temper, the Second Elder nodded in profound agreement.
"Well, the younger generation's combat exchange is starting soon," the Second Elder noted. "We adults should head out to observe."
He paused. "Is Mirai participating?"
"What would be the point of letting him participate?" the Great Elder sighed, his voice heavy with despair.
The Great Elder was currently suffering a profound existential crisis. The reality of Mirai's growth had violently derailed from his careful, 'Cuckoo in the Magpie's Nest' sleeper-agent plan!
Even ignoring the invisible, invincible Stand that the boy seemed to possess, Mirai had now inexplicably subjugated Mahoraga at six years old! He had completely escaped the control of both the Gojo and Zenin clans!
If not for Mirai's absurd power, Zenin Naobito—who was currently at his physical peak and widely considered the strongest Grade 1 sorcerer alive—could have comfortably ruled the Zenin clan for another twenty years! Instead, the drunkard had happily surrendered the throne to a six-year-old!
"Do you think the boy will just obediently sit and watch the matches?" the Second Elder asked nervously. "He is only six, after all. It's the age where kids are most playful..."
"Alas..." The Great Elder sighed again.
"Time's up, Boss. We should go," the Second Elder reminded him, glancing at the clock.
The Great Elder remained standing by the window, completely motionless. He looked as sturdy as an ancient pine tree.
Suddenly, he spoke.
"Numb." "Numb?" "I'm numb." "You're numb?" "I said I've been standing completely still for too long because I was terrified, and now my entire body has gone numb! Come help me walk, you idiot!" "Oh! Oh, right away!"
Back in the main banquet hall.
A large, open space in the center of the venue had been cleared. Specialized sorcerers had erected reinforced barriers and cast stabilizing seals over the floor, ensuring the area could withstand attacks from Grade 2 sorcerers without collapsing.
For a group of five- and six-year-old kids, this was an absurdly oversized, indestructible fortress.
Well, indestructible... as long as a certain little monster didn't decide to participate.
Boring. This is so incredibly boring.
In the VIP seating reserved exclusively for the Heads of the Three Great Families, Mieko sat in the grand patriarch's chair. Mirai sat comfortably upon her lap.
Watching the kids in the center of the venue awkwardly throw punches and weak cursed energy at each other like they were playing house, Mirai let out a massive yawn. His eyelids drooped heavily.
To his left sat the Great Elder of the Gojo clan. (He was acting as a proxy because the previous Gojo Clan Head had conveniently—and mysteriously—dropped dead shortly after Mafuyu became pregnant with the twins).
To his right sat Kamo Noritoshi (the current patriarch, not the historical stain).
Currently, the Kamo Patriarch was trying his absolute best to curry favor with the boy.
"Zenin-sama," Kenji Kamo began smoothly, "I am the current Head of the Kamo clan. It is my profound honor to witness the true glory of the strongest Shikigami in jujutsu history today."
"Exactly how honored are you?" Mirai asked deadpan.
"Uh..." Kamo choked. He hadn't expected standard political flattery to be met with a literal demand for quantification. A new world of awkwardness opened before him.
"Ah, well... Mahoraga's reputation precedes it, so naturally I am—"
"Okay, okay~ I get it," Mirai interrupted, waving a dismissive hand.
This Kamo guy is ugly, and his voice is grating, Mirai thought. If I have to listen to him speak one more sentence, I'm going to get annoyed.
A flash of genuine malice crossed Mirai's face.
Seeing the sheer hostility in the six-year-old's eyes, Kamo swallowed hard. He instantly abandoned his attempt to network, snorted softly to save face, and clamped his mouth shut.
On his left, the Gojo Great Elder was practically hyperventilating. He kept his eyes locked straight ahead—eyes on his nose, nose on his mouth, mouth on his heart. Complete Zen focus.
With the massive, terrifying shadow of Mahoraga looming directly behind Mirai's chair, the Great Elder felt like he was sitting on a bed of nails.
Mirai's temper is even worse than the most arrogant elders in our clan, the Great Elder thought miserably.
Suddenly, Mirai shifted his gaze and glanced directly at the Great Elder.
The old man flinched violently, trembling like a dead leaf in the wind. In a panic, he blurted out the first compliment that came to mind: "M-Miss Mieko has certainly raised you well! Ha... ha!"
Whether the boy can read minds or not, the Great Elder thought frantically, I must maintain a perfectly respectful internal monologue at all times!
It was a pitiful sight. One of the strongest Grade 1 sorcerers in the world, utterly terrified of a sleepy six-year-old.
A/N: Apologies for the late upload guys. Got a little too drunk yesterday then woke up with a killer hangover. For this week, every 100 Powerstones will get ya'll an extra chapter! Thank you!