A Detached House for Jiahao Next Door (5K Mega Chapter, Only One Update Today)

Late autumn in Kyoto. The sunset looked like a pool of thick blood splashed across the bluestone pavement.

"Makoto Mizuki, are you deleting them or not?!"

Zenin Mai's revolver was pressed hard against Makoto Mizuki's forehead, the icy muzzle making his scalp tingle. Her normally cold and vicious face was flushed with an unhealthy crimson from overwhelming shame and fury, her breaths ragged like a fish freshly hauled from water—not only because he had secretly photographed her, but also because Makoto's mouth could talk the dead back to life.

"Mai, as an artist, I never make backups. I merely create new life from discarded drafts."

Makoto raised both hands, wearing the obedient smile that made Utahime want to immediately kick him again. In a serious tone, he spouted a lie obvious even to ghosts. "Besides, that lace choker really suits you. It proves that my taste is—"

"—Indeed, it suits you. Like an exquisite stray dog."

A Kansai accent dripping with sticky malice drifted leisurely in from the mouth of the alley, like a slick venomous snake.

Click.

It was not a gunshot, but the sound of some string in Mai's heart snapping.

The muzzle that had been fiercely aimed at Makoto's forehead suddenly tilted away, and Mai's body began to tremble violently.

The bone-deep terror called "Zenin" utterly paralyzed her will the instant she heard that voice.

At that moment, Miwa Kasumi, who had awkwardly been counting ants, abruptly darkened her gaze.

"—New Shadow Style."

With a slight twist of her toes, a perfect circular field erupted over the bluestones. [Simple Domain]—it was Miwa Kasumi's instinctive protective response. Her callused hand clutched the hilt tightly, and the blade scraped against the scabbard with a piercing ring, its edge aimed directly at the alley entrance.

Though she was usually a working girl who would grin foolishly for 200,000 yen, the conscience of Kyoto Jujutsu High displayed almost tragic decisiveness the instant her companion was threatened.

(Ah, that expression.)

Makoto adjusted his monocle, and a flash of inexplicable excitement passed through the lens.

(Kusakabe-sensei might scold you for this, Miss Miwa—but that fragility born from long-term domination, hovering on the brink of collapse... I've never seen Mai in this state before.)

Makoto did not even turn around to look at the golden-haired figure slowly approaching. Instead, he took a step forward. First, he reached out with his left hand and lightly patted Miwa Kasumi's shoulder, rigid from excessive tension. That gentle touch made her Simple Domain slightly rein in its suicidal resolve.

"Relax, Miwa. A 'background character' of this caliber isn't worth gambling your year-end bonus on."

Then, taking advantage of Mai's brain short-circuiting, Makoto directly reached out with his right hand and held her chin.

He raised his index finger and thumb into a large checkmark shape, his fingertips slowly stroking her trembling skin.

"Hello, hello, Mai. A qualified model should look at the camera at times like this."

Makoto leaned close to her pale little face, his tone frivolous as if he were appraising a damaged painting.

"Look at you. Just now, you were practically making your soul shine to fight me for another 200,000 yen in royalties. Why did you start dropping frames the moment you heard a 'loser dog' barking? That expression is far too pathetic. It'll lower the market value of my entire painting."

"M-Makoto...?"

Mai stared at Makoto in shock. Fear and this intensely invasive intimacy clashed madly in her mind. The suffocating feeling that had nearly drowned her was forcibly diluted by this touch that was almost... disgusting.

"Let go."

Naoya Zenin slowly stepped forward, his gaze cold and venomous. Looking at Makoto's arrogant display of "eating soft rice while acting tough," he spoke with contempt.

"A dog taught by Gojo-kun certainly reaches far. Not only does it live off women outside, it even wants to lay hands on the Zenin Clan's trash?"

Makoto's hand stroking Mai's chin paused slightly. He tilted his head and gave Naoya an intensely pitying look.

"Um... was it... Zenin Bentoya? First, being supported by women is a man's pride, just like a certain man from your Zenin Clan—what was his name? Zenin Toji? Ah, no. 'Fu-shi-gu-ro To-ji,' wasn't it? Second, could you stop acting as if you're close with my teacher and shamelessly calling him 'Gojo-kun'?"

He gave a flippant snort, his fingers sliding from Mai's chin to her throat as though assessing the quality of an artwork.

"When Sensei took Maki and us out for dinner, he never once mentioned your name. This kind of 'one-sided familiarity' is generally called—delusion. It honestly makes me feel sick."

"You—"

Veins bulged at Naoya's temples, wildly fluctuating cursed energy dancing at his fingertips.

"Don't get angry so soon. There's something even sadder for you."

Makoto revealed a Gojo Satoru-style smile and drove in the final blade.

"Because you're weak~ Sensei doesn't really remember trash. And weak as you are, I suppose... even your beloved Toji, right up until the moment he died, had no idea who you were?"

"I'll—kill you!!!"

Hearing that final line, Naoya Zenin completely lost his mind. His face, which considered itself noble, twisted with extreme rage, every pore leaking killing intent born from having his faith desecrated.

"That thing... that filthy, vile, utterly insulting trash painting of Toji..." Naoya glared at me, gritting his teeth as he pulled a crumpled page of sketch paper from his clothes—it was the draft of Makoto's earlier Gender-Swap Jujutsu High side story that had been left at Tokyo Jujutsu High. "You actually... you actually dared draw Toji in such a weak posture?!"

(You damn white-haired bastard, just wait. The next issue of Gender-Swap Jujutsu High will have JK Gojo Mai getting pounded into meowing by dark-skinned futa big-sis Toji!)

Naoya Zenin's figure blurred. Driven by overwhelming rage, the opening movement of [Projection Sorcery] was so fast it nearly tore the air apart.

"You actually drew that man as a woman... Filth like you, with no reverence for the 'strong,' deserves to be crushed into meat paste and thrown into a wild dog's food bowl!"

To ordinary eyes, Naoya became an afterimage at that moment, flickering through the narrow alley at twenty-four frames per second in an irregular pattern. A shrill sonic boom rang through the air—the tremor produced when he crossed space in an instant.

"Watch—"

Mai's terrified, broken cry had not even left her throat when Naoya's iron fist, wrapped in violent cursed energy, tore through the air and reached Makoto's nose.

(Huh? She wasn't scared out of her wits, and she even dared warn me?! What a surprise... I think a little better of you now, Mai.)

Makoto even had the leisure to make a frivolous remark in his mind.

—True, I cannot see the extreme speed of twenty-four movements per second at all. But using Knockoff Sorcery... ah, no, [Projection Sorcery], to crash head-on into [Limitless]? Are you serious?

As a transmigrator, Makoto understood the weaknesses of these [Cursed Techniques] better than anyone. Against an opponent like Todo Aoi, whose body and intellect were both ferocious, who possessed "530,000 IQ" and beastlike instincts, the advantage of foresight was often difficult to exploit. But once his opponent was someone like Naoya Zenin, whose Cursed Technique was rigid and whose personality was riddled with holes, it was so easy for a "fraudster" to mislead a mad dog that he could not help humming softly.

—Zenin Jiahao, who only knows how to bully cousins ten years younger than himself, your death sentence was already written the moment I saw that crumpled "feminized Toji draft" in your arms~

Makoto deliberately invoked "Gojo-kun" in that contemptuous tone. He deliberately used "Toji the kept man" to insult Naoya's faith, and "you're weak" to tear open Naoya Zenin's most sensitive pride—all for this moment.

To let rage overwhelm his reason, and make him arrogantly choose the Cursed Technique that best displayed his "genius status."

If Naoya Zenin had calmed down and fought hand-to-hand using pure cursed energy reinforcement, then with only three uses of his "trial-version Limitless," each lasting merely three seconds, and an incomplete [Ushura Bullet] with at most fifty percent of the original's accuracy, Makoto could at best gain the upper hand. In a prolonged battle of attrition, defeat would be inevitable.

(Unless I risk burning out my brain and forcibly use something like [Blue Resonance] or [Azure Fury] here—wide-area destructive moves that would drag both Miwa and Mai into it.)

(But as expected, someone proud to the bone like you would definitely use [Projection Sorcery] at a time like this.)

The logic of [Projection Sorcery] was built on "preset movements." Once acceleration began, the sorcerer had to choreograph all twenty-four frames in their mind. If even one frame failed due to outside interference, the sorcerer would be forcibly immobilized by the rules of their own Cursed Technique for one second.

And the infinite distance brought by "Limitless" was the most unreasonable "outside force" in the world.

Bzzzt—!!

A heavy shockwave rang through the air.

Naoya's inevitable fist stopped strangely less than a centimeter from Makoto's glasses. The preset frame of "landing the hit" had become an unattainable void before absolute infinite distance.

Cursed Technique judgment: movement not completed.

Consequence: forced freeze.

"See, Naoya."

Makoto still held Mai's chin. He did not even look at the golden-haired head so close to him, whose entire body was frozen stiff as a wax statue. He merely tilted his head slightly, looking at the terrified pupils beginning to distort under the Cursed Technique's backlash, and revealed an incredibly sinister "Gojo-style" smile.

"In art, rhythm is very important. You getting stuck in front of my camera like this really ruins the composition. So—"

Time froze within that one second of forced immobilization.

Makoto did not immediately throw a punch. Instead, he showed an almost compassionate smile.

He stretched out his right hand, his movements slow and gentle, as though inviting a lover onto a dance floor. His hand slid down Naoya's rigid arm, until his fingers finally interlocked tightly with Naoya's palm, swollen with cursed energy.

"Naoya, caught you."

Makoto whispered softly, his sticky tone sending chills down the spine.

Ignoring the crazily collapsing ball of blue attraction at the meeting point of their palms, glowing with a faint phosphorescence and commonly known as [Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue], it was indeed a highly charged composition that would excite quite a few fujoshi.

Naoya Zenin's eyes, unable to move from the Cursed Technique backlash, trembled violently. In that instant, he felt the horrifying pull from his palm. It was not a handshake. It was a black hole kissing his bones.

"Next comes the art of... 'applying force,' taught to me by Brother."

Makoto's eyes sharpened, and the laughter in his pupils nearly spilled out. He drew in a deep breath, bent his knees slightly, and became like a fully drawn bow.

—According to the essence Todo Aoi had emphasized during his beatings... no, instruction these past days: "Cursed energy does not come from the dantian. It erupts from the trembling of the soul, bursting through the twist of the waist and hips!"

Makoto violently twisted his waist and hips. The muscles around his waist exploded with astonishing force like tightened steel cables, driving his shoulders and arm as he threw a heavy punch carrying imaginary mass.

[Echo Mimicry: Star's Fury]

Its weight rivaled an African elephant after Domain Expansion—or a detached house!

Just this once, let's do some full-power weightlifting!

—Riiip.

It was the teeth-grinding sound of cloth, flesh, and ligaments tearing under high-frequency vibration and the pull of absolute attraction.

Accompanied by a shockwave powerful enough to overturn the entire alley, Naoya Zenin flew backward like a rapidly spinning golden top, spiraling through the air in an incredibly twisted trajectory. He smashed through five walls in succession before disappearing into a cloud of dust without another movement.

And his right arm, pulled by Blue's unreasonable attraction and the terrifying centrifugal force of that Star's Fury strike, had been forcibly left behind.

Makoto remained in his punching stance, gripping an utterly incongruous severed limb.

Silence.

Deathly silence.

Mai's face became exceedingly "rosy," and the revolver fell from her hand with a crisp clatter. Miwa Kasumi trembled so badly that she nearly drew her sword on instinct—the way they looked at Makoto had changed from "looking at a scumbag" to "looking at a Special Grade disaster wearing human skin."

However, that handsome and brutal scene lasted less than three seconds.

"...Hiss!"

Makoto's previously upright posture suddenly froze in a strange position, and the severed limb in his hand fell onto the bluestones with a slap.

A sharp, soul-piercing agony exploded from his lower back and shot straight to the crown of his head.

Todo Aoi's "violent force technique" had clearly been designed for freaks with gorilla-like physical ability. Makoto's body, belonging to a martial-arts failure who had spent years sitting in an electric wheelchair and survived through being kept and spreading rumors, had clearly... crashed from that full-power twist.

"...My back... I threw my back out..."

Makoto braced himself against the wall, tears nearly spilling from the pain. The elegance of the "fraudster" and the swagger of a "second-generation scumbag" instantly crumbled to dust.

(No, if I'm doing a good deed, I have to see it through. You can't stop at ninety-nine percent!)

With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone, walked over to photograph the Naoya Zenin whose fate was unknown, then sent a desperate cry for help toward the blue-haired figure in the distance who stood blankly holding her sword.

"Miwa... stop counting ants! Quick, help me up... And while you're at it, see whether this guy has any credit cards. Check if there's enough balance to cover my massage fee... That muscle-brained Todo wasn't teaching force application at all. He was teaching suicide!"

[Tokyo Jujutsu High · Future Hope (No Dragging the Principal)]

I am researching a very new form of art: [Image] [Image]

(The first image: after the heavy blow from "Star's Fury," Naoya Zenin's face had taken on a flattened shape with striking postmodern beauty. At that moment, he hung upside down from a ruined signboard in supreme irony. The second image: because of Blue's gravitational tearing, his severed arm looked especially desolate beneath the setting sun.)

[I am researching a very new form of art]: @Maki Maki~ Do idiots from "your Zenin Clan" have some special fetish? Why does this heir love using his head to press against the sole of my shoe so much? Ah, my new shoes got dirty. How troublesome.

[I am researching a very new form of art]: @Strongest Teacher Sensei, the Kyoto mission has been cleared. I also happened to pick up an idiot in an alley who was shouting that he would "clean house" for you. To protect your reputation, I casually helped him physically uninstall a few unnecessary parts. Such a trivial matter—surely, as the strongest and most protective teacher, you can perfectly cover for your beloved student, right?️🫰🏻

(The group chat fell completely silent for ten whole seconds.)

[Panda]: ...Makoto, you really are brave. You actually dismantled Naoya? (That's Naoya, right? That is absolutely Naoya, right?!)

[Inumaki Toge]: Makoto, Yaga called Sensei out just now. He is still being scolded.

[Maki]: ...Nice work, second-generation scumbag—but that blindfolded bastard has been called out for nearly twenty minutes now. That completely breaks the record. Good luck.

[Okkotsu Yuta]: ...Um, Makoto, take care. It feels like Sensei's hair has become glossy now. In the literal sense.

([The Strongest · Invincible · Will Win] has joined the chat.)

[Strongest Teacher]: Oh my~ Isn't this Naoya? It's only been a few days. How did he become so three-dimensional... Ah, no, so two-dimensional?

[Strongest Teacher]: But Makoto, although Sensei is indeed very strong, the calls from Jujutsu Headquarters have already blown up my phone at this hour.

[Strongest Teacher]: To reward your "diligence," Sensei has decided to let you write all the upcoming statements of defense yourself! Also, once the Exchange Event returns to school, the intensity of your "loving special training" will be doubled. You must gratefully accept Sensei's protection~

[Okkotsu Yuta]: ...Makoto, take care.

[I am researching a very new form of art]: [System Notice: Makoto Mizuki has enabled Do Not Disturb mode.]

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