Chapter 9: No Info On Madara

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"You couldn't possibly be an old monster who's hiding in secrecy for years?"

"Like could you be an ancient old monster, hiding away for thousands of years?" Fushiguro quipped, his triangular eyes fixed on Madara before him.

"With that level of creativity, you could probably be a novelist," Madara replied nonchalantly, popping a tempura into his mouth.

"Tsk." Fushiguro clicked his tongue and resumed his meal.

From Fushiguro's perspective, Madara was clearly cut from the cloth of those supremely confident and overly self-assured individuals.

Such a demeanor radiated both from within and in the unwavering confidence he projected outwardly.

There was no hint of falsehood.

Fushiguro held unwavering confidence in his heightened five senses and the impressions he had gathered from Madara.

This assuredness enabled him to recognize the futility of Madara trying to deceive him in matters of this nature.

Furthermore, Madara didn't appear to put any effort into masking or obscuring such trivial particulars.

As a result, Fushiguro saw no reason to squander more time and energy probing Madara's identity.

Subsequently, a serene dining ambiance settled over the table.

...until--

"Slap!"

The two sets of chopsticks met, producing a crisp clink.

Below those chopsticks lay a dinner plate with just a solitary piece of tuna remaining.

In unison, Madara and Fushiguro lifted their heads, locking eyes.

"Now that's quite the coincidence," Fushiguro chuckled.

"Guess we're on the same page. There's plenty of other stuff on the table, help yourself to those. This last piece, though, it's mine."

Madara's lips curled into a faint smile.

The two of them locked eyes for a brief moment, and an almost imperceptible mist seemed to gradually envelop the air around them.

Shortly after, Shiu Kong spoke up, breaking the silence, "You two really have no shame. I'll foot the bill for your meal."

Fushiguro's right arm tensed as he wielded the chopsticks.

With a swift motion, his chopsticks traced a blur through the air, striking directly at the piece of tuna on the plate at a speed nearly impossible to track with the naked eye.

"This is the condition if you want to join me at this table. The payer doesn't matter."

Just as Fushiguro's chopsticks were about to make contact with the tuna, there was a sudden movement – like lightning, Madara snatched the tuna a step ahead of Fushiguro.

Under Fushiguro's watchful gaze, Madara leisurely placed the piece of tuna into his mouth, almost teasingly.

Wei Wei arched her eyebrows at Madara, her tone both playful and provoking.

"Really, using something like this as an excuse doesn't suit someone of your character."

"Ha—"

Fushiguro's already mischievous smile seemed to intensify, and the aura he exuded underwent a significant shift.

If the atmosphere was mildly turbulent before, it had now transformed into a simmering volcano, ready to erupt with scorching magma at any given moment.

He retorted in response to Madara's previous statement.

"Your role or dining etiquette don't really matter."

His words had barely left his lips when Fushiguro lunged toward the nearest dish in front of Madara.

In a blink, his ordinary chopsticks morphed into swift arrows, zeroing in on the food laid out on the dinner plate as if they were determined predators, destined to capture and conquer!

"Targeting the dishes I prefer, are you acting like a sore loser?"

After savoring the delectable tuna in his mouth, Madara made his move once again.

Following in Fushiguro's footsteps, he elevated his speed to an even higher level.

The outcome mirrored their previous exchanges: Madara effortlessly nabbed the piece of meat Fushiguro had aimed for.

"Clicking your tongue in disapproval, are you really in a position to judge?"

Fushiguro's gaze landed on the very target he had just tried to claim.

"Hmm?"

Madara's deep eyes shifted slightly, fixated on the meat secured within his chopsticks.

As it turned out, the complete piece of meat had been divided in half.

Fushiguro held the other original half in his hand.

"You truly are an intriguing one."

A crimson glint sparkled in Madara's eyes, and an aura tinged with a hint of madness radiated from his being.

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

Fushiguro wasted no time and casually tossed the meat into his mouth, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

In the blink of an eye, the two of them were in motion once again, synchronized in their actions.

Clashing! Clashing! Clashing!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The symphony of chopsticks meeting chopsticks, chopsticks colliding with dinner plates, and chopsticks striking bowls resonated in rapid succession.

A multitude of fleeting afterimages practically engulfed the entire expanse of the dining table.

It transformed into a miniature battlefield where Madara's dark blue aura and Fushiguro's black-gray aura intertwined, causing chaos.

"...these two individuals."

Observing from the other end of the table, Shiu Kong was left utterly speechless.

At this point, he couldn't even find an opening to join in, let alone partake in the meal.

Given his physique, which was only marginally sturdier than that of an average individual, if he dared to extend his hand into that imperceptible battlefield, his entire arm might well have been crushed instantaneously.

Reduced to mere fragments.

In this moment, he had originally been a participant at the table, but he now felt like a complete outsider.

All he could do was watch helplessly as Madara and Fushiguro persisted in transferring the contents of the dishes into their own bowls at a speed that defied conventional understanding.

Within the bowls on both sides, the assortment of items—ranging from meats to vegetables—was mounting rapidly, at a pace even the naked eye could catch.

"That young man—"

With a protracted sigh echoing within, Shiu Kong's gaze grew intent.

While his unaided vision couldn't distinctly capture the actions of the duo, he gauged their activities from the burgeoning pile of dishes within each of their respective bowls. Madara's side still slightly exceeded Fushiguro's.

Consequently, in this unseen confrontation, it was Madara who retained the upper hand!

"It's truly awe-inspiring!"

No wonder such a charged atmosphere had enveloped the initial interaction between my associate and this young man.

Furthermore, he consented to Madara's terms.

At that juncture, Shiu Kong had already discerned a few telltale signs.

This raven-haired youth was unquestionably no ordinary individual.

Consider this: even if they were a second-tier or even a first-tier Jujutsu division, Fushiguro treated them with a nonchalant demeanor. It was impossible to evoke the kind of reaction that Fushiguro displayed.

In this regard, Shiu Kong's expectations for Madara had solidified.

Even after learning Madara's name, he had conducted fruitless searches for information about him, yet his anticipations remained unchange.

However...

From the very first instance of seizing the meat, this dark-haired individual named Madara had outperformed Fushiguro.

Within Shiu Kong's psyche, Madara's prowess had abruptly ascended.

For the first time, he was witnessing his collaborator, renowned as the 'Sorcerer Killer,' lagging behind in a contest against another.

Even though there might have been a fair share of exploratory maneuvers, the exhibition of merely one-twentieth of one's might was unlikely.

Yet, that wasn't the entirety of it.

While the preliminary encounter could be attributed to various reasons, as the true confrontation evolved, Fushiguro remained at a distinct disadvantage...

Shiu Kong couldn't help but mull over the situation.

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