On the Subject of Gojo Satoru Becoming Gojo Mai

Tokyo, Jujutsu High, afternoon.

The sound of cicadas clamored through the dense forest, yet the silent air was permeated by a pressure capable of making any sorcerer break out in a cold sweat.

It was the manifestation of humanity's deepest fears.

However, in this environment, Mizuki Makoto was hiding at the corner of the old school building, his expression solemn, his fingertips sliding rapidly across a tablet.

"The tone of the pupils needs to be colder... yes, just like the frozen Lake Baikal. That azure blue capable of absorbing a person's soul is the true essence. The cinnabar mole between the brows needs to be rounder; this collision between 'divinity' and 'fallen angel' is art..."

Mizuki Makoto muttered to himself, his eyes burning as if he wanted to scorch through the screen.

On the screen, a woman with hair like snow and eyes like azure gemstones stood leaning slightly.

She possessed Gojo Satoru's signature arrogant smile, yet she was dressed in a daringly tailored nun's habit.

She leaned forward slightly, performing a one-handed salute with a strong sense of provocation. The black-veiled shrine maiden outfit, originally symbolizing holiness, had been mischievously modified by Mizuki Makoto with a deep V-neck and a high slit, generously revealing exquisite collarbones, proud curves, and a pair of long, illogical legs wrapped in translucent white silk.

The finishing touch was the vermilion dot between her brows, which, amidst the cold tones of azure and snow-white, suddenly leaped out with a hint of charm and danger.

This was a masterpiece that perfectly fused "divinity" and "allure." The arrogant and composed smile at the corner of her mouth seemed to mock: even if I dress like this, in this world, no one can touch a single hair on my head.

This was Mizuki Makoto's magnum opus—Gojo Mai: Saintess Arc.

"Perfect."

Mizuki Makoto closed the tablet with satisfaction and let out a long sigh of relief.

Just then, a ghostly voice sounded from behind his ear without warning:

"Oh my, Makoto-kun, although I know I'm handsome, but to draw me as this... hmm, 'mature woman'? And isn't the fabric of this outfit a bit too stingy?"

Every hair on Mizuki Makoto's body stood on end instantly.

Without needing to turn around, that sweet-scented, abyss-like, and unbearable curse energy fluctuation belonged to only one person in all of Japan.

He turned stiffly to see the long-legged man in the black Jujutsu High uniform, wearing a blindfold, squatting on the wall. He was holding a bag of freshly bought Kikufuku, looking down at him with great interest.

"Gojo... Sensei." Mizuki Makoto's mouth twitched as he tried to slide the tablet behind his back without drawing attention.

"Don't hide it, the Six Eyes can see more than you imagine."

Gojo Satoru teleported in front of him, reached out to take the tablet naturally, and pulled down a corner of his blindfold. Those eyes capable of seeing through everything reflected the figure of "Gojo Mai."

The air seemed to freeze at this moment.

Mizuki Makoto had already begun calculating how long it would take to dig a hole in the back mountain of Jujutsu High to bury himself.

"Makoto-kun." Gojo Satoru suddenly put away his smile, his tone becoming somewhat low.

Mizuki Makoto's heart sank: "Sensei, I can explain, this is actually a form of performance art..."

"No." Gojo Satoru looked up, a dangerous and excited light flickering in his azure eyes, "I wanted to ask, why doesn't this version of 'me' have my favorite limited-edition mochi? As a mature woman, shouldn't there be this kind of gap moe? And the 'thickness' you designed for this 'Miss Mai' should be... 30D? Oh my, if Shoko saw this, she would be very jealous~ And that one-handed salute, are you imitating how I looked while working yesterday?"

Mizuki Makoto: "...Huh?"

"Also, the lines of the waist, if they could be raised by another two centimeters, that sense of 'divinity' would be even stronger."

"Makoto-kun, your drawing skills are good, but your understanding of the 'strongest' is still shallow. This look is arrogant enough, but it feels like it lacks that 'I alone am the honored one' vibe."

Gojo Satoru pointed at the draft, spouting nonsense with a straight face, "And you have to draw that kind of—even if I accidentally get cut in half one day in the future, I would still praise the opponent for being strong in my death throes, and blame myself for not letting them have enough fun—that kind of open-mindedness."

Mizuki Makoto was in a mess: "...Sensei, it's probably better not to set these inexplicable defeat flags, right?"

His teacher's brain circuits must have been fried by the "Limitless," right!

"Sensei, the point isn't the mochi, the point is that I'm drawing a gender-bent version of you!" Mizuki Makoto couldn't help but retort, "Shouldn't you be locking me in a confinement room, or blasting me into a shooting star in the sky with a 'Hollow Technique'?"

Gojo Satoru threw the tablet back to him, put his blindfold back on, and a playful arc curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Why should I be angry? It's quite interesting."

He patted Mizuki Makoto on the shoulder with enough force to almost send the protagonist to heaven on the spot.

"Compared to the boring rumors fabricated by those Rotten Oranges (the higher-ups), I prefer this kind of 'sincere' creation from Makoto-kun. However—"

Gojo Satoru's figure began to blur in the air; it was the prelude to teleportation.

"Since you're using my face as material, I'll be looking forward to tomorrow's advancement test, Sensei. If you lose, I'll print this picture out and post it on the bulletin board at the school gate, signed: Mizuki Makoto's Fetish Exposed."

"...You are the real devil! Gojo-sensei!"

Mizuki Makoto watched Gojo Satoru's disappearing back, suddenly remembering something. He jumped up, waving his fists at the air and shouting:

"Also! Sensei! This is blatant slander! It's a rumor! It's a devastating blow to the reputation of an upright high school student!"

Gojo Satoru's figure paused in the void, tilting his head as if very interested in hearing the final defense of this "little monkey."

"Oh? Where is it a rumor?"

"My fetish is clearly a mature and elegant big sister like Miss Mei Mei!"

Mizuki Makoto looked righteous, hands on his hips, his voice loud enough to startle the cicadas in the trees, "A white-haired, childish ghost like you, who has nothing but a face and strength, whose personality is so bad that the entire Jujutsu Society suffers from insomnia, and who even steals Kikufuku from children, is simply not within my hunting range!"

Mizuki Makoto looked righteous, "Do you know how people outside evaluate you? 'A long-haired white cat that is perfect in every way except for its personality.' Who would want to fall in love with a cat that only knows how to tear up the house every day and steal students' sweets! Please don't use your cheap imagination to speculate on my noble aesthetic!"

The air was deathly silent for three seconds.

Gojo Satoru, who had already prepared to teleport away, felt his eyelid twitch noticeably. He pulled down his blindfold, his pale blue Six Eyes re-examining this audacious student, seemingly confirming whether the guy's brain had been kicked by a curse.

"...Mei Mei, that woman who buries herself in money?"

Gojo Satoru readjusted his blindfold and let out a chuckle that sounded mysteriously dangerous. "Makoto-kun, your taste is really... unexpectedly 'expensive' and dangerous. I'll pass that on to her word for word, and by the way, ask if she's willing to pay a 'reputation damage fee' for that sketch."

"Hey! That part is really unnecessary, Teacher!"

Swish.

Gojo Satoru vanished completely.

Mizuki Makoto collapsed against the wall in exhaustion, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

Only after confirming that the oppressive cursed energy had completely faded did he let out a long sigh, his terrified expression instantly switching back to that sinister, scheming grin.

Those Rotten Oranges (the higher-ups) at Jujutsu Headquarters could never imagine what kind of hellish thing the student they recorded in their files as "only having ornamental value" actually was.

[Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College · Student Personal File]

• Name: Mizuki Makoto

• Enrollment Year: 2017

• Grade: Grade 3 Sorcerer (Provisional)

• Innate Technique: [Echo Mimicry]

• Technique Summary: Capable of replicating others' techniques in a short time through visual capture and cursed energy perception.

• Evaluation and Flaws:

Due to extremely poor technique compatibility, the power of replicated moves is usually only 1%-50% of the original, and the appearance manifests as unstable blue digital noise, evaluated as an "inferior tribute with only ornamental value." The subject is extremely dissatisfied with this evaluation, claiming the upper limit of his technique strength depends on "mental resonance" with the target being mimicked.

"'Inferior tribute with only ornamental value'... Heh, this evaluation is really gentle enough to make one want to cry."

Mizuki Makoto whispered to himself in self-mockery, his fingertips gently rubbing the edge of his tablet.

His innate technique was a taboo that could cause the higher-ups of the Jujutsu Society to suffer a collective heart attack.

Its name—[Limitless Cognitive Parasite].

Unlike the elegant and sacred bloodline talent passed down through the Gojo Clan for a thousand years, Mizuki Makoto's [Limitless] was essentially a "plunder of cognition."

This name did not refer to space, but to the condition for achieving technique feedback: having absolutely no moral bottom line.

As long as the "rumors" Mizuki Makoto fabricated caused cognitive bias in the audience, he could share power from the target. The intensity of the feedback strictly followed three nearly perverted variables:

1. [Factual Deviation]: The greater the deviation between the lie and the truth, the stronger the feedback. (For example, spreading a rumor that Gojo Satoru is gay yields a hundred times more profit than spreading a rumor that he loves eating salty tofu pudding.)

2. [Target Strength]: The higher the cursed energy level of the target being slandered, the higher the upper limit of the shared power.

3. [Social Consensus]: The more people who believe the rumor, and the deeper they believe it, the closer the shared power is to the real thing.

Simply put, if the "rumors" Mizuki Makoto created were further from the truth and received higher recognition—for instance, if he could make the entire Jujutsu Society (including Gojo Satoru himself) believe from the bottom of their hearts that Gojo Satoru was actually his, Mizuki Makoto's, biological son—he could slice Sukuna into mincemeat on the spot.

But for now, he was still at the "stealing a hook gets you executed" starting stage. To survive, he had to wrap this vicious technique in a skin that looked harmless, called [Echo Mimicry].

This tightrope-walking behavior was even more stimulating than playing a celebratory song while Suguru Geto died in front of Gojo Satoru.

There was no helping it; he hadn't received a hot-blooded, righteous technique, but rather something like Regarding How I Became the Strongest by Spreading Rumors.

Although Gojo Satoru was laughing happily now, if he ever found out what I had done and what I planned to do... he would probably perform a physical "Domain Expansion" and send me to the afterlife for real.

The moment Gojo Satoru completed his recognition, the technique within Mizuki Makoto erupted with unprecedented, greedy suction.

[Formula Logic:]

• [Deviation]: Gender-swapping the strongest man of the current era into ■■. Judgment: Extreme!

• [Target Strength]: Special-Grade Sorcerer (Gojo Satoru). Judgment: Highest Level!

• [Consensus]: The subject, Gojo Satoru himself, formed a misjudgment that "this kid draws really well/captures details accurately." Judgment: Extremely slight.

Tsk, maybe next time I should draw the oh-so-lovely Miss Gojo Mai or ■■■ Miss Gojo Mai—

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