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Cursed Dark Matter

Kakine Teitoku, second strongest Esper in Academy City is mysteriously transported into the JJK Verse after his fight with Accelerator. How will things end up for the second strongest Esper when he comes face-to-face with the strongest Jujutsu Sorceror? And how's he supposed to get home when he has an abused kid hanging off of him with magic books in their brain? As a certain spiky-haired someone might put it, 'such misfortune'.

Safia_Sabry · Anime et bandes dessinées
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10 Chs

Chapter 10

Class began with a lesson on Jujutsu history—a subject that might have been interesting if it hadn't immediately spiraled into what Kakine could only describe as barely controlled chaos.

 

Panda, for reasons no one understood, started narrating the lesson in a dramatic announcer voice. Maki countered by loudly correcting him every two seconds, insisting his facts were "totally wrong and completely made up." Toge occasionally chimed in with cryptic ingredients like "Tuna mayo," which somehow made more sense than most of Gojo's actual teaching. Yuta, ever the peacekeeper, tried to take notes and keep everyone on track, though his increasingly frantic scribbles suggested he was fighting a losing battle.

 

And then, because the universe apparently hated Kakine, the lesson transitioned into math—a subject inexplicably taught by Gojo himself.

 

Barely five minutes into class, Gojo zeroed in on Kakine like a hawk spotting its prey. "Alright, Kakine-kun," he said with a smug grin that practically sparkled. "Let's see what you've got. What's the derivative of this equation?" He lazily scrawled a complex problem across the board, looking far too pleased with himself. "And don't use the textbook—real geniuses don't need those."

 

Kakine didn't even blink. He glanced at the board for a split second before rattling off the correct answer in a calm, monotone voice.

 

Gojo froze, his marker hovering mid-air. "Wait, what?" He squinted at the board, then back at Kakine as if the boy had somehow cheated using telepathy.

 

"Alright, fine, smart guy," Gojo huffed, scribbling an even more complicated equation. "What about this one?"

 

Without hesitation, Kakine answered again, his tone as unbothered as ever.

 

Gojo's grin froze. He scribbled another equation. Kakine answered. Another equation. Answered again. The sound of the marker squeaking against the whiteboard grew more desperate, and the students couldn't decide if Gojo was trying to stump Kakine or prove he still knew how to do math himself.

 

"How the hell is that even possible?!" Maki finally burst out, throwing her hands up in frustration. "You didn't even write anything down! You just... said the answer!"

 

Kakine tilted his head slightly, his expression deadpan. "Don't you just do it in your head?" he asked, half-serious and half to rile her up.

 

"Are you a human calculator?" Panda asked, his furry face betraying no emotion as he tilted his head to mimic Kakine.

 

"Like Mechamaru?" Yuta gasped, his innocent wonder shining like a beacon.

 

"No, no, definitely not," Panda interjected, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. "Yuta, I think you really need to work on understanding how Mechamaru's technique."

 

Gojo, meanwhile, slumped dramatically against the board, fake-crying. "This isn't fair. I was supposed to be the coolest one in class!"

 

"You're not even a student," Kakine muttered, leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes, and effectively declaring the conversation over.

 

"No way!" Gojo whirled on him with a comically over-the-top expression of determination, his finger stabbing through the air as if it were a divine weapon. "Disappointment is for the predictable!"

 

The class collectively braced themselves. Nothing good ever followed Gojo and the man's theatrics.

 

"Alright, genius," Gojo said, jabbing his finger toward Kakine. "Let's see how far that brain of yours goes! Who invented mochi? What's the ultimate ingredient for making the perfect dango? And—here's the real brain-buster—if MoriMori Café sold half their blueberry cream cheesecake at half price, how much would they have to discount their strawberry macarons for members to make it fair?!"

 

 "What the hell is wrong with you?!" he roared, practically coming out of his chair. "Two of those questions have nothing to do with math, and the one that does is too stupid to even count as a real question!"

 

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest like Kakine had physically wounded him. "Excuse me?! Are you saying culinary math doesn't count as a valid field of study?" He turned to the class, seeking support. "Yuta, back me up here! You've eaten at MoriMori; you know it's life-changing."

 

Yuta hesitated, caught between agreeing with his teacher and avoiding Kakine's glare. "Um... I mean, the strawberry macarons are really good…"

 

"Don't encourage him!" Kakine snapped, throwing an arm toward Yuta.

 

"I can't believe this slander," Gojo continued, dramatically turning his back to the class. "The disrespect for desserts, for creativity, for—" He turned back sharply, pointing again. "—for math with heart!"

 

"Math with heart?!" Kakine's voice cracked in disbelief. "That's not a fucking thing! You just made that up!"

 

"Maybe I did!" Gojo shot back, grinning like he'd just won the argument. "But that's what innovation looks like, Kakine-kun. Take notes!"

 

"Notes on what?!" Kakine groaned, burying his face in his hands, effectively giving up on what his life has currently become.

 

"Dango recipes," Panda said nonchalantly.

 

 

 

 

Kakine sidestepped another of Maki's lightning-fast strikes, the wooden sword whistling past his ear. She didn't miss a beat, following up with a barrage of relentless attacks, her grin wide with excitement. Meanwhile, Kakine couldn't decide whether she was enjoying this too much or if she was just trying to end him outright.

 

It was his first day, and he was already stuck sparring with the class gorilla. Lovely.

 

He let out a frustrated sigh as he dodged yet another swing, deflecting what he could but still struggling to keep up with her raw power. While he had years of experience in battle and reflexes that could rival a machine, Maki's sheer strength and precision were a nightmare to deal with, especially when he wasn't using his abilities.

 

A sharp sting shot through his arm as he barely blocked another hit, wincing slightly. She was faster and stronger—at least for now. And it was painfully obvious that she was holding back.

 

After what felt like hours (though in reality, just a grueling few minutes), Kakine finally dropped onto the steps next to Yuta, drenched in sweat but still looking far more composed than someone who had just fought a human battering ram should.

 

"That was amazing, Teitoku-kun!" Yuta praised, his innocent, wide-eyed expression making it impossible to feel annoyed. "Not many people can go toe-to-toe with Maki-san like that!"

 

"You said it!" Panda chimed in, strolling over with Toge. "Salmon roe," the latter added with a nod of agreement.

 

Kakine wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, his breathing slightly uneven but not desperate. "Thanks," he replied curtly, shrugging off the praise.

 

"You're not bad," Maki admitted, smirking as she stood over him, barely breaking a sweat herself. A single drop rolled down her temple, making her look almost smug. "Nice to know you're not good at everything."

 

The other students nodded enthusiastically in agreement, a collective hum of approval filling the air—except for Yuta, whose kind heart wouldn't let him pile on.

 

 

 

 

Satoru Gojo was in a good mood. Scratch that—he was downright jubilant. So much so that, for once, even the incessant whining of the Jujutsu higher-ups didn't stir his usual annoyance. No, today, Gojo Satoru was practically glowing with amusement.

 

"Gojo Satoru!" a shrill voice rang out from behind the traditional shoji screens. These old men, hiding in the shadows like moths avoiding the flame, sat as if their frail authority wasn't laughable. "How dare you!"

 

Gojo's grin widened. This was going to be fun.

 

"You were given explicit orders to bring the curse user Kurosaki to us alive!" another voice barked.

 

"And instead," a third chimed in, seething, "you had the audacity to enroll the very children responsible for all that chaos and destruction! Unbelievable!"

 

"Do you have any idea where you stand, boy?"

 

Oh, the audacity of these men. Gojo tilted his head, his blindfold slipping slightly to reveal the faintest shimmer of his infamous eyes. "Right now?" he drawled lazily. "I'm standing here listening to a bunch of old geezers who probably haven't seen combat since the Meiji era." His grin widened as indignant gasps filled the room.

 

"You dare mock us?!"

 

"Your report was incomplete! You've left critical details unexplained about those children!" one elder snapped, his tone shaky but outraged.

 

"Critical details?" Gojo repeated mockingly. "You mean the ones you didn't have the guts to investigate yourselves?" His smile turned razor-sharp. "I gave you the full picture. Kakine Teitoku is a newly awakened sorcerer—discovered purely by coincidence—who stumbled into that village. His innate connection to jujutsu energy probably let him bypass the curse barriers." A complete lie, but Gojo delivered it with the confidence of a man who dared them to call him out.

 

"He came across the girl," Gojo continued smoothly, "who was being brutalized by Kurosaki. Naturally, they clashed. When I arrived, I mistook Kakine for an enemy sorcerer—understandable given the mess—and engaged him." Gojo shrugged theatrically. "Kurosaki interrupted us, and we both turned on him instead. Pretty standard stuff."

 

"What was Kurosaki's interest in the girl?" another elder demanded, his voice shaking slightly.

 

Gojo's grin grew colder. "Oh, Kurosaki?" He tapped a finger against his chin as if pondering. "He was an old man who got his kicks beating on little girls and weaker opponents. A real creep. You know..." His eyes glinted. "Kind of like you lot."

 

"Watch your tongue, boy!" someone barked, their voice cracking.

 

"Disrespectful brat!" another fumed.

 

Gojo yawned dramatically, cutting through their outrage. "Boring. You're all so boring," he said, his voice oozing mockery. "Do you ever get tired of yelling from behind screens? Or do you just enjoy pretending you're important?"

 

"What of the boy's technique?" one elder suddenly cut in, redirecting the conversation. "It was reported that he nearly defeated you!"

 

"That kind of uncontrollable power cannot be risked!" another added, voice growing frantic.

 

"The boy must be executed immediately!"

 

Gojo stopped yawning, his carefree demeanor freezing like a sudden frost. He slid his hands into his pockets and tilted his head, an exasperated sigh slipping past his lips. "You guys really don't learn, do you?"

 

Before anyone could respond, Gojo's voice dropped, his tone as sharp as a blade. "Listen closely." He reached up, tugging his blindfold down, revealing his piercing blue eyes. They swirled with a kaleidoscope of color, impossibly deep and utterly captivating. The room seemed to darken, the air itself growing heavy with his overwhelming presence.

 

"Kakine Teitoku and the girl," Gojo began, his voice low and steady, "are under my protection. They're mine now." His eyes burned brighter, their gaze pinning the elders in place like insects beneath a magnifying glass. "If any of you so much as think about stepping out of line, I'll kill you. All of you."

 

Silence fell like a guillotine.

 

Behind the screens, the elders shrank back, their bravado crumbling under the sheer force of Gojo's words. They knew, even if they wouldn't say it aloud, that the true backbone of the Jujutsu world wasn't their bureaucracy or their ancient traditions. It was Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive. And as much as they loved to bark orders at him, not a single one of them was foolish enough to think they could leash him.

 

Satisfied, Gojo pushed his blindfold back into place and turned on his heel. "Well, this was fun," he said cheerfully, his tone snapping back to its usual lightness. "Let's do it again sometime. Or not."

 

As he walked away, his voice echoed through the room, carrying a distinct note of mockery. "Oh, and next time, don't call me unless it's for something actually important. Not to bloat your dying egos."

 

 

 

 

Satoru Gojo really wanted to kill them. Those decrepit, self-important old geezers, clinging to their outdated ideals and petty power plays. In his mind, it would've been a kindness to end them right then and there—put them out of their misery before their sour attitudes rotted the world around them any further.

 

But he let out a long, exasperated sigh instead, pushing that thought aside. That's not how I want to change things, he reminded himself. Change has to come in a way that doesn't burden the next generation of sorcerers.

 

His steps slowed as he reached the edge of the training area, pausing to take in the scene below.

 

Kakine sat cross-legged on the ground, his face a masterclass in exhaustion and disinterest, as though he'd just witnessed the world's most pointless debate. Next to him, Yuta leaned forward, his usual polite smile now edged with mild concern. Across from them, Maki and Panda wore matching grins, clearly having the time of their lives at Kakine's expense.

 

Satoru couldn't help but smile, a rare, quiet expression that softened his usual sharp edges.

 

"I'll never let those old, bitter oranges steal any more of their youth," he murmured to himself, the resolve in his voice as steady as his heartbeat.

 

For all their flaws and quirks, these kids were the future of Jujutsu society—a future that deserved to grow strong and bright, untainted by the poison of their predecessors. Satoru wouldn't let anyone, least of all those decaying relics hiding behind screen doors, dim that light.

 

His grin returned, wider now, his usual mischievous glint back in his eyes. "Besides," he added with a chuckle, "this next generation's already got me. What more could they need?"

 

 

 

 

Kakine watched with faint interest as Yuta lunged at Maki with his wooden sword, his swings sharp but ultimately predictable. Maki, on the other hand, dodged each attempt with effortless precision, her movements fluid and sharp, like a seasoned predator toying with its prey.

 

"How the hell is she moving like that?" Kakine muttered under his breath. It didn't make sense—no normal human should have that level of agility or precision without some kind of supernatural boost.

 

"It's because of her Heavenly Restriction," Panda answered casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

 

"Heavenly what now?" Kakine shot him a skeptical look.

 

"Heavenly Restriction," Panda repeated, leaning slightly toward Kakine. "It's like a binding vow someone's born with. Basically, it places limits on one aspect of a person's abilities—usually their cursed energy—in exchange for enhancing another aspect. In Maki's case, her cursed energy is almost non-existent, but her physical abilities are crazy strong because of it."

 

"Bonito flakes," Toge added with a sage nod, as if that explained everything.

 

Kakine blinked, processing this new information. "So, she's got insane strength and speed because she traded in her cursed energy? Sounds like a pretty sweet deal."

 

"Not exactly," Panda replied, his tone a little more serious now. "Because she's a twin, there's a hard limit on how much stronger she can get."

 

"Huh?" Kakine frowned. "What's being a twin got to do with anything?"

 

Maki, who had already knocked Yuta to his knees with a sharp, calculated strike, finally spoke up. Her voice was calm, but there was a hardness in it, a hint of something unspoken. "In Jujutsu society, twins are seen as a bad omen," she said bluntly. "Cursed energy and techniques are tied to the soul. Twins share a soul, which splits their cursed energy in half. Because of that, neither of us can reach our full potential."

 

A somber silence settled over the group, the weight of her words sinking in. Even Yuta, still on the ground, seemed to pause for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

 

Kakine, however, didn't linger on the melancholy. It wasn't exactly his style to get caught up in other people's emotional baggage, though he couldn't deny the idea of a split soul was… intriguing.

 

"Yo!" A familiar, cheerful voice cut through the tension like a beam of light. Satoru strolled into the training area with his trademark smirk, sunglasses glinting in the sunlight.

 

"Sensei," Yuta began, glancing toward Gojo. That slight distraction was all Maki needed.

 

"Pay attention!" she barked, landing a swift, unrelenting strike straight to Yuta's face.

 

"Oof!" Yuta staggered backward, clutching his nose, but Maki didn't let up. She pressed forward, her wooden weapon a blur as she launched into another barrage of attacks.

 

Gojo, unbothered, clapped his hands together and leaned casually against a nearby post. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just here to see how our star pupil is doing."

 

"Pay attention!" Maki snapped, her movements faster, sharper now, forcing Yuta to fight with everything he had just to keep up.

 

Kakine smirked as he watched Yuta desperately try to parry Maki's relentless onslaught. It was like watching a beginner fencer square off against a seasoned swordswoman who had absolutely no mercy. "Heavenly Restriction or not," Kakine muttered, "either way, she's terrifying."

 

Gojo, with a thoughtful hand on his chin, tilted his head as if inspecting an art piece. Panda mimicked the pose beside him, nodding sagely before chiming in. "Yuta too."

 

Kakine raised an eyebrow, glancing skeptically at the talking panda.

 

"It's true," Panda continued, ignoring the doubt in Kakine's expression. "The kid's been with us for about three months, and he's improved a lot! He's not just a crybaby anymore!"

 

"If you think that's an improvement, I don't even want to know what he was like before," Kakine muttered under his breath.

 

Gojo smirked, "He's definitely less of a sad sack these days. Actually smiles now. Progress!" he gave them a thumbs up.

 

Kakine gave the man a disbelieving look. To him, Yuta was too meek, timid, and lacking anything resembling self-confidence. Kakine had no patience for spineless people—it grated on him. "If I met him before," he muttered to himself, "I'd probably dislike him even more than I do now."

 

"And Maki's in a better mood, too," Panda added, tapping his chin. "She's never had someone to spar against who actually uses weapons like her. And now we've got Yuta and Kakine!"

 

"Salted fish roe," Toge said, nodding sagely, his expression unreadable.

 

Panda gasped, as though struck by divine revelation. His furry paw shot out, pointing at Kakine. "Kakine!" he screeched, nearly shattering the boy's eardrum.

 

Kakine recoiled, wincing. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he growled, rubbing his ear.

 

"This is important!" Panda declared, grabbing Kakine's shoulders with both paws, his expression deadly serious. "Answer me—do you like small boobs or big boobs?"

 

The room fell silent for half a second before Kakine stood up, his face a picture of pure exasperation, and walked away without a word.

 

"Neither," Gojo interjected with a sly grin. "That guy's a bit of a lolicon."

 

Kakine froze mid-step. His head snapped around, and his eyes locked onto Gojo like a predator sighting its prey. Without hesitation, he launched himself at the man, hands outstretched to strangle him. "GOJO!"

 

Gojo, now dangling comically by his collar in Kakine's iron grip, continued to smile and innocently laugh as if nothing was wrong.

 

Panda, completely unfazed, turned his attention to Yuta, who was still sparring with Maki. "Yuta! Come here for a second!"

 

"What's going on?" Yuta asked, glancing between Kakine's attempted murder and the panda's unusually enthusiastic demeanor.

 

"It's super important!" Panda whispered, beckoning him closer with a dramatic wave. As soon as Yuta leaned in, Panda cupped his paw to his mouth and whispered, "Tell me—do you like big boobs or small ones?"

 

Yuta's face turned crimson faster than anyone thought possible. "W-WHAT?!"

 

The poor boy fumbled with his wooden weapon, bringing the handle to his lips as if it could somehow shield him from the embarrassment. "I-I… I never really thought about it," he stammered, looking down at the ground, utterly flustered.

 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Panda said, nodding encouragingly, his furry arm around the boy, encouraging him to continue.

 

"Well…" Yuta muttered, barely audible, "I guess… I like them… kind of small."

 

"MAKI!" Panda roared triumphantly, spinning around and pointing at the girl like he'd just discovered the meaning of life. Maki turned to him, her expression shifting from confusion to outright murder as Panda struck a ridiculous full-body heart pose.

 

"You have a shot!" he declared dramatically.

 

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" Maki bellowed, charging at Panda with her weapon raised high.

 

The panda didn't stand a chance.

 

Yuta chuckled nervously as chaos erupted around him. "I still don't really understand what's going on…" he muttered to Toge, hoping for some clarity.

 

"Kelp," Toge replied, nodding solemnly, which somehow made Yuta feel even more anxious.

 

"Alrighty, students!" Gojo suddenly called out, his voice cheerful despite the fact that Kakine still had him by the collar. "I've got an important announcement!"

 

Maki paused mid-swing, glaring at him while Panda lay twitching on the ground. "For Toge and Yuta", Gojo continued, grinning. "You'll be coming with me for a special assignment. Maki, you can stay here and, uh… keep brutalizing Panda."

 

"Don't assign me to violence!" Maki snapped.

 

"And Kakine", Gojo pointed at the boy who was still glowering at him, "I have a special assignment for you as well" a smirk formed on the older man's face.

 

 

 

 

Kakine stormed down the street, each step fueled by a seething rage that churned inside him.

 

That smug, white-haired bastard! Special assignment? As if!

 

The plastic bag hanging off his arm swung mockingly with every step, its contents a ridiculous collection of overpriced desserts. Gojo's so-called mission had turned out to be nothing more than a glorified food run. Kakine's jaw clenched as he replayed the scene in his mind: Yuta, with his timid nod of determination, and Toge, whose stoic silence somehow carried an air of superiority. Both of them had been sent on an actual mission—a real one. And him? Babysitting pastries.

 

"I've been in real fights!" Kakine growled to himself, his voice low and venomous. "But no, let's send rabbit boy and the crybaby while I fetch cake."

 

His fingers twitched at his sides. Did that fake-ass Santa forget how I wiped the floor with him?

 

Turning sharply, Kakine entered the last stop on Gojo's absurd shopping list, a quaint café radiating warmth and the tantalizing aroma of fresh-baked goods. The counter displayed an array of confections, but one particular slice caught his eye: a molten chocolate cake adorned with delicate white swirls and crowned with a glistening strawberry.

 

"That's the one," he muttered, pointing it out to the cashier. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter while waiting, ignoring the curious glances from patrons who weren't used to seeing someone glowering in a bakery.

 

Once the cake was neatly packaged, he grabbed it and turned to leave.

 

That was when he nearly bumped into someone.

 

"Oh my!" came a smooth, almost musical voice. "I'm so terribly sorry."

 

Kakine stepped back quickly, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at the speaker. The man was tall, with flowing robes and a serene expression that didn't sit right with him.

 

"No worries," Kakine said curtly, stepping aside. "Wasn't expecting to see a monk."

 

The man's smile widened, his gaze lingering on Kakine with an unsettling kind of interest. Kakine felt his instincts kick into high gear, warning him that this was no ordinary encounter. Still, he turned to leave, hoping to avoid whatever strange interaction this was bound to become.

 

"Excuse me," the monk called after him, closing the distance with deliberate steps. Kakine stopped, annoyance flickering across his face as he glanced over his shoulder.

 

"What?"

 

The monk gestured toward the boxed slice of cake in Kakine's hand, his voice as smooth as silk. "That wouldn't happen to be the Chocolate Strawberry Blast, would it?"

 

Kakine's brow twitched. "So what if it is?"

 

The monk chuckled lightly, tilting his head in a way that made Kakine's skin crawl. "Ah, it seems I've been unlucky. That was the last slice, and my daughters were so hoping to enjoy it. I thought I might bring it to them as a little treat."

 

His eyes opened slightly, sharp and knowing, and Kakine's gut tightened. Dangerous. This guy's dangerous.

 

For a moment, Kakine said nothing, sizing the man up. Then, an idea bloomed in his mind, and a sly grin spread across his face. He shifted into an unnervingly cheerful demeanor, his voice dripping with feigned sincerity.

 

"Sure, why not!" Kakine said, shoving the boxed cake into the monk's hands with mock enthusiasm. "Take it. And you know what?" He slipped the bag of treats from his arm and plopped it onto the monk's lapel, practically dumping it on him. "Why don't you take these too? Consider it a donation."

 

The monk blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Are you sure?" he asked, amusement flickering in his voice. "With this many purchases, I assumed you were buying for a whole class."

 

"Oh, don't worry," Kakine replied, his sickly sweet tone making even himself want to gag. "It's all for just one person. And considering how benevolent he is, I'm sure he won't mind at all."

 

The monk's smile grew, tinged with bemusement. "I see. Thank you so kindly for your generosity. I'll be sure to express my gratitude."

 

"No need," Kakine said, waving dismissively as he turned on his heel. "I'll pass along your thanks personally."

 

The moment he was out of sight, Kakine let out a long sigh of relief, the false cheer draining from his face. That guy was trouble.

 

He cracked a wicked grin, imagining Gojo's reaction when the albino bastard realized he wasn't getting his precious desserts. "Serves you right," Kakine muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking off with a newfound spring in his step.

 

 

 

 

Geto watched with a quiet, amused smile as the boy—Kakine Teitoku—disappeared into the bustling crowd, his defiant energy lingering in the air like a spark.

 

"What an entertaining young man," Geto mused aloud, his tone laced with intrigue. "Another bright, young sorcerer brimming with potential."

 

From the shadows, Manami emerged, her soft voice breaking his reverie. "You didn't say anything to him?"

 

Geto's smile deepened, his gaze still fixed on the spot where Kakine had vanished. "He already knew."

 

"Knew?" Manami's brow furrowed in confusion.

 

"The moment I bumped into that boy, he recognized me," Geto explained, his voice calm but tinged with admiration. "He knew I was a sorcerer, and in an instant, he categorized me as an enemy."

 

Manami's confusion only grew. "But sir, that doesn't make sense. He's civilian-born, isn't he? They're usually oblivious to the inner workings of the Jujutsu world—its history, its players. How could he possibly—?"

 

"That's what makes it extraordinary," Geto interrupted, his eyes gleaming with fascination. "The boy is still new to our world, barely a month into his time at Jujutsu High. He doesn't know who I am, my history, or my reputation. Yet his instincts alone were sharp enough to identify me as a threat."

 

Manami hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. "But surely he wouldn't—"

 

"He didn't want to hear what I had to say," Geto cut her off, his tone carrying an air of finality. "And had I pressed him, had I forced my hand... he would have killed you without hesitation."

 

Manami's breath caught, her eyes widening in shock. "What?! But I was completely concealing my presence! There's no way he could've—"

 

"It wasn't about detecting you," Geto said with a chuckle, a glint of dark amusement in his eyes. "It was never about you. That boy's instincts operate on a level far beyond the ordinary. He doesn't just sense threats—he acts on them with unwavering conviction."

 

Manami stood frozen, absorbing the gravity of Geto's words.

 

"And it's not just his instincts," Geto continued, his voice now laced with an unsettling excitement. "It's his defiance. His raw potential. That boy doesn't hesitate, and he doesn't falter. He's the kind of sorcerer who refuses to be led. A force of nature, untamed by convention."

 

Geto's smile widened into something almost unhinged, his eyes glistening with an eerie fervor. "Yes," he whispered, his voice trembling with joy. Having just witnessed Okkotsu and now this amalgamation of a boy. "This generation of sorcerers is truly magnificent."

 

"What a glorious era to witness!" Geto exclaimed, his voice brimming with manic delight. "These young sorcerers—they shine with a brilliance that cannot be contained! How fortunate I am to see this world filled with such marvelous talent!"