Another Gojo Satoru?

A tiny Cursed Spirit, shaped like a water snake, wobbled through the sky from the direction of the forest and descended toward a small hill outside Tokyo Jujutsu High.

A hand reached out toward the Cursed Spirit in the sky, allowing it to land in its palm and coil around its wrist, docile as a pet.

After retrieving such an inconspicuous Cursed Spirit, the meaningful smile that had constantly lingered on the monk-like man's face disappeared at that very moment.

"The Gojo Family's strongest technique, passed down through generations and known to few even within the main house—Hollow: Purple."

The monk-like man muttered to himself.

"He has already learned even that?"

With not the slightest trace of a smile remaining on his face, the monk-like man frowned, lost in thought.

Only after a long while did his companion's voice rouse him.

"What's wrong? Did it not go well?"

Mahito approached from another direction, carrying something in one hand while the other hung naturally at his side, blood slowly dripping from it onto the ground and leaving a faint scent of blood in the air.

It did not seem to be Mahito's own blood, but someone else's. That was why his expression appeared so relaxed—one might even call it pleased.

Clearly, he had just enjoyed a thoroughly satisfying slaughter and was in a good mood.

After glancing at Mahito, the monk-like man withdrew his gaze.

"It went quite smoothly. At the very least, we did manage to probe a few things, so one of our goals was achieved." Without turning around, the monk-like man said, "But what we learned was not good news. I'm afraid we'll have plenty to worry about from now on."

"Is that so?" Mahito said carelessly. "Then Jogo and Hanami were telling the truth. Gojo Satoru's Disciple?