Ch.22 Hello, Fushiguro-kun

"Gardevoir!!!"

Akira's expression changed drastically.

Seeing Gardevoir shake her head and noticing that the system didn't show any health loss, Akira finally relaxed and asked,

"What happened?"

Gardevoir raised one hand to her forehead. The red markings that had spread across her brow were slowly fading away.

Gardevoir had attempted to stop it with her psychic powers, but the effect was minimal. Akira knew it was because the power systems were fundamentally different.

As the mark fully disappeared, Gardevoir lowered her hand and clasped her palms together, releasing a distorted, iridescent wave of light.

The wave didn't target anyone in the room but projected onto the wall near Tsumiki's bed, forming a slightly blurred figure.

It appeared to be a woman, though her face wasn't clear. She had a decent figure, and the most notable feature was a scar running across her forehead like a stitched seam.

"Gar~" Gardevoir made a sound filled with evident disgust just from seeing the blurry image.

Akira's expression turned cold, a sharp chill flashing in his eyes.

"So, you've already shown up this early, huh? The true villain, Kenjaku."

"This is the person responsible for cursing Miss Tsumiki," Akira explained, "Gardevoir managed to catch a glimpse of the caster through the connection between the curse and the caster."

The light Gardevoir had projected was one of her abilities—Psychic Terrain, allowing others to visualize illusions.

"A curse user?" Gojo's expression darkened. "Can you repeat that... No, too late, huh. Cautious, I see."

As Gardevoir's "Synchronized" curse mark faded, Tsumiki's corresponding mark on her forehead also began to disappear. Clearly, the curse user had noticed Gardevoir's attempt to reverse track them and immediately deactivated the curse technique.

"Shoko—"

"—I know, leave the patient to me. You staying here won't help."

"I'll find a way to hunt down that curse user."

Gojo and Ieiri Shoko had known each other since their school days at Jujutsu High. Having worked together for over ten years, their coordination didn't need to be discussed.

Moreover, healing was the only area where Gojo was not an expert.

Cursed energy, being a form of negative energy, was excellent for causing harm but couldn't be used to heal. Healing required reversing cursed energy into positive energy through a process known as Reverse Cursed Technique.

This technique, like Domain Expansion and Maximum, was considered one of the highest levels of jujutsu.

While Gojo had mastered the Reverse Cursed Technique, he could only use it on himself, whereas Ieiri Shoko could use it to heal others, earning her the nickname "Treasure of Jujutsu High."

Shoko was also the only person with enough talent to mock Gojo: "Reverse Cursed Technique is super easy. How come you can't figure it out?" she had once said to Gojo, back when he was still learning it.

It just goes to show, everyone has their match.

"No, I'll handle this."

The door to the room opened, and a boy with spiky hair and long eyelashes entered, his face sour—this was Fushiguro Megumi.

"You're back, Megumi," Gojo greeted, adjusting his blindfold. "Did you find anything after wandering around for so long?"

"Why do you even ask?" Megumi's scowl deepened.

"You sounded so confident; I thought you might've discovered something."

Ignoring Gojo's taunt, Megumi said flatly, "I'll handle this."

"This isn't about ideals; it's a matter of reality. This curse user is very skilled—neither Shoko nor I could track them. Are you sure you can find them? And even if you do, can you defeat someone of that caliber?"

"Tsumiki is my sister."

"Ah—"

Gojo exaggeratedly slapped his forehead, exasperated by his adopted son's "I know it's unreasonable, but I still want to do it" attitude.

"Tsumiki is your sister, but I'm your guardian. Could you at least consider my position? How about this: these two are my students, and they're only a year older than you. If you can get either one of them to acknowledge you, I'll let you go. Not only that, but I'll recommend you be promoted to Grade 2 sorcerer. How does that sound?"

"What do you mean by acknowledgment? Just beat them in a fight?" Megumi asked.

"Exactly."

Zenin Maki immediately agreed, casting a glance at Akira that clearly said, You're not allowed to interfere. This is mine.

Akira shrugged, gesturing with one hand as if to say "after you," while using the other to lead Gardevoir to step aside.

"Let's take this to the rooftop," Megumi said, hands stuffed into his pockets, slouching slightly as he walked ahead, clearly used to this sort of thing.

Coincidentally, Maki knew the routine just as well. She hoisted her weapon onto her shoulder and followed, matching his pace step for step.

You could see the family resemblance. Despite their different attitudes, their shared blood was undeniable.

Akira glanced at Gojo and asked, "What are you really thinking?"

"Better to let him vent rather than bottle it up. Plus, he needs to understand what real combat is like."

Regarding the future of his adopted son, Gojo was being unusually serious.

"I'll leave it to you. There are things he might not be willing to hear from me."

Akira nodded, understanding.

He'd had a rebellious phase himself in his previous life—never listened to his parents, but when he heard some pseudo-scientific motivational slogan from someone else, he'd treat it as gospel.

Looking back now, he could only wonder, What the heck was I thinking?

"From darkness it is born, darker than black, tainted and impure, all shall be cleansed."

As Megumi opened the rooftop door, Gojo activated a curtain.

By the time Akira and Gardevoir arrived on the rooftop, Maki already had her sword pointed at Megumi's throat.

In the span of a few brief words, Megumi had already lost.

Considering Gojo's earlier comments, it wasn't hard to deduce that the difference in their fighting philosophies had played a significant role.

Under Akira's influence, Maki had completely abandoned any unnecessary movements in battle. At such close range, her priority was to strike as quickly as possible, leaving no time for the opponent to react.

She, Akira, Panda, and Inumaki had all trained in this approach extensively—it was second nature to them now.

Megumi, on the other hand, was still a teenager, and it was hard to completely abandon his "cool factor" or the desire to make an impressive showing.

Not to mention, he wasn't just aiming to win; he wanted to win in style.

For him, showcasing his jujutsu techniques, even performing Cursed Technique Lapse: Maximum, was his priority.

But with Maki's skill level, at this distance, unless he was prepared from the start, he wouldn't have the time to speak a single word before being overpowered.

"You're too naive. Only an idiot would wait for their opponent to make the first move. And anyone who expects their opponent to do so is worse than an idiot."

Maki's voice was sharp as she withdrew her blade, her ponytail swishing behind her in a confident arc.

"Your enemy isn't a cursed spirit—it's a curse user with no scruples. If you keep fighting with that mindset, you'll die."

Megumi's retort was stifled before it could form. His face flushed with frustration as he managed to say through gritted teeth,

"I wasn't ready this time. Let's go again."

"Sure, go as many rounds as you like," Maki said with a smirk, beckoning him to come at her, "This time, I'll let you take the first move."

Having learned from his mistake, Megumi quickly crossed his hands, forming a peculiar gesture with his fingers, shaping a shadow on the ground that resembled a dog's head.

But just as his shadow began to materialize, a larger shadow loomed over him—the shadow of Maki's sword.

The smirk on her face was dark and sinister, silently conveying, I said I'd let you start, but I never said how much of a head start you'd get.

Never pin your hopes on your enemy being foolish, little boy!