Lord Guanyue I Case Files

In Jujutsu High's operations room, the smell of tobacco mingled with tense fluctuations of cursed energy. Mei Mei wore a mysterious smile as she faced her checkbook, while Kento Nanami adjusted his tie and radiated the oppressive air of someone who desperately wanted to clock out.

"That concludes the current deployment."

Masamichi Yaga tapped the whiteboard, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. "Hold Shinjuku and Kyoto. Wipe out all the 'small fry' Geto brought with him. As for Geto himself... leave him to Satoru."

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That aura of having "the strongest" settle everything with one blow did give these sorcerers, who lived from one precarious day to the next, the illusion of something called safety.

After the strategy meeting ended, Gojo Satoru walked into the first-year classroom with his hands in his pockets.

Maki cracked her knuckles, glaring fiercely at Mizuki Makoto. Inumaki sprayed medicine into his throat. Panda was doing chest stretches. And Yuta... Yuta was so nervous that his face had gone pale as a corpse, while Rika behind him let out a chilling growl in response to his unease.

"Alright, kids, time to hand out assignments!"

Gojo's tone was light. "Maki, Toge, Panda, you'll stay behind to defend the school. As for Makoto—"

He looked at me, his gaze behind the sunglasses carrying a hint of scrutiny. "Given that flashy spatial ability of yours, you'll go with Miss Mei Mei and Hakari to support Kyoto. No problem, right?"

"Hold on a second, Sensei."

I sighed and leisurely pulled a long cigar from my uniform pocket—naturally, it was only a realistic-looking cocoa stick. I casually wrapped a checkered scarf, which I had no idea where I'd dug up, around my neck, then spoke in an exhausted tone, as though I owed humanity tens of billions.

"Um... I know the atmosphere is supposed to be all passionate right now, but I can't help asking: Sensei, haven't you and the upperclassmen—haven't all you adults been focusing on the wrong thing from the very beginning? Like, all the way off in Siberia?"

The room instantly fell silent. Maki stopped moving and raised a brow. "Mizuki, you itching for a beating?"

"No, no, no. I just think the current battle plan reeks of a stupidity called 'simplicity.'"

"Yuta, come here and hand me a lighter." I pointed beside me with the chocolate cigar. "From now on, you're my inner disciple. Your job is to record how these adults are being led around by the nose like third-rate extras."

"Huh? M-me?" Okkotsu Yuta shuffled over with a bewildered look.

"Makoto, what nonsense are you pulling this time?" A vein bulged on Maki's forehead.

"Shh—don't talk, Maki-chan. You're better suited to solving problems with muscle than with your brain. Trust me, your ideal fighting style is—muscles connected to the brain, instinct replacing thought."

Mizuki Makoto rose to his feet, walked to the map at the front of the classroom, and casually used the chocolate stick to draw crosses over the two large circles. His gaze became that of a stern lecturer facing an entire class of failing students.

"I don't understand... why everyone is discussing where Suguru Geto will start the war, as if Shinjuku and Kyoto, these two stages, have already determined our grim fate."

"Ten years ago, Suguru Geto and Gojo Sensei set out from here together, beginning the era known as the 'strongest duo.' Jujutsu Society even briefly entered that so-called state where all things flourished with vigorous life. It feels like only yesterday. Who could have imagined that just ten years later, this place would become the burial ground we'd die alongside?"

I deliberately paused, watching everyone's curiosity rise, secretly pleased with myself. But I had no intention of revealing the answer immediately. Instead, I continued to draw it out at an unhurried pace.

"In the world of jujutsu, the key has never been 'how,' but 'why.' Or rather, why hadn't Suguru Geto done this before?"

"The reason he hadn't acted before was perfectly normal—because Gojo Satoru was 'the strongest,' an outlier who could literally kill everyone by himself. So the question is, why did he choose now to believe he could challenge Sensei?"

He raised a brow, and his tone became somewhat flippant.

"Could it be... Sensei, just like it says in Bitter Summer, you really had some kind of 'dirty adult deal' with him in private? Like exchanging love letters during that reunion when he declared war—my deepest apologies! I shouldn't make jokes that might get me erased on the spot by Sensei!"

I keenly noticed Gojo Satoru's mouth twitch and hurriedly returned to the point.

"There is only one truth, and it's absurdly simple! For Cursed Spirit Manipulation, the ultimate holy relic capable of overturning the causal relationship of 'the strongest' is Mr. Yuta, who is currently sitting brazenly on my right." Mizuki Makoto's gaze passed over everyone and landed directly on the trembling Okkotsu Yuta.

"Yuta can't control Rika at all right now, can he? He isn't combat power—he's a nuclear bomb that could go off at any moment. Since Suguru Geto's goal is to build a world inhabited only by sorcerers, what he needs most is the ultimate cursed spirit capable of overturning the variable known as 'the strongest.' And right now, Rika is hanging around Yuta, who hasn't even learned to walk yet..."

I spread my hands and sighed.

"Shinjuku and Kyoto are nothing more than a massive misdirection, like a magician using flashy tricks to draw the audience's eyes away. He only wants to lure all the watchdogs away, then come back to collect his favorite 'takeout.' Sensei, have you adults all been dazzled blind by the fancy phrase 'Night Parade of a Hundred Demons'?"

The classroom fell into deathly silence.

Gojo Satoru lifted a corner of his blindfold. Those Six Eyes glimmered with unprecedented coldness in the dim classroom. He looked at the pale-faced Okkotsu Yuta, then at Mizuki, who wore an expression that practically said, "This scheming brat has been feeling you up all along."

"Makoto." He suddenly laughed, though there was a chilling sharpness in that smile. "Looks like I've been way too lax with your 'moral education.' You actually learned to cosplay at a serious moment like this."

"Indeed."

For once, Gojo Satoru did not argue back. He leaned against the blackboard, his right index finger tapping his arm now and then. The oppressive presence of "the strongest" instantly withdrew, replaced by a lazy protectiveness.

"Makoto's right. There's a high chance Yuta is Geto's target. But—"

He raised his head. Though his blindfold remained in place, I could feel those Six Eyes looking past the window toward the streets of Tokyo hundreds of kilometers away.

"Even knowing it's a scheme to lure the tiger from the mountain, I still have to go to Shinjuku. After all, that's the 'welcome party' Geto prepared especially for me."

"Why?" Maki frowned and slapped the desk impatiently. "If we know Yuta is his target, shouldn't we just defend Jujutsu High to the death? Even if that topknot-wearing bastard is strong, he can't break through all of our defenses, can he?"

"No, Maki-chan."

Gojo Satoru shook his head, a matter-of-fact smile curling across his lips. "Precisely because I know Geto, I know that if he dared declare war, he wouldn't just leave a few small fry in Shinjuku to scare ordinary people."

His voice was light, yet impossible to question.

"He has arranged combat power in Shinjuku, specifically to hold me back. If I don't go, the things that were originally aimed at me will go berserk. Then... Shinjuku will truly become the kind of 'money-losing business' Miss Mei Mei hates most. I'd feel bad leaving that kind of trouble to anyone else."

Mizuki Makoto fell silent.

This was Gojo Satoru's kind of gentleness—although he knew full well there was an open trap waiting for him, he would still choose to step into it alone rather than let his colleagues and students suffer unnecessary casualties.

"Is this what they call 'the capable do more work'?" He sighed and put the drawing board into his schoolbag. "Using Sensei's sense of responsibility to forcibly peel the strongest combat power away from the main battlefield. Suguru Geto really does know how to 'take care' of an old friend. Sensei Gojo, you really have terrible taste in friends."

"So, the plan remains unchanged."

Gojo Satoru clapped his hands and resumed that annoyingly playful tone. He looked at us with the arrogant confidence that always made people feel safe.

"...So, Makoto, go support Kyoto with Miss Mei Mei. Resolve things as quickly as possible, then use 'that move' of yours to get back here. No problem, right?"

Gojo Satoru patted my shoulder, looking as though he were sending his beloved family and friends to the front lines as human fireworks.

I remained where I was and raised my tablet slightly, revealing an expression of extreme disgust.

Tch... you dead white-haired bastard. You saw through it after all...

"Sensei, I request to remain behind."

I raised my hand, expressionlessly interrupting Gojo Satoru as he prepared to package me off to Kyoto.

"Oh?" Gojo Satoru stopped and turned back, his eye behind the sunglasses studying me with interest. "Makoto, that analysis of yours sounded convincing enough, but you should know that if Geto really has his eyes on Yuta, staying at Jujutsu High isn't something Lord Guanyue I should be doing. It requires the resolve of a sacrifice."

He deliberately drew out the words, teasingly adding, "Or are you actually afraid of those cursed spirits in Kyoto that look a little too abstract?"

"No, Sensei. As they say, 'If the king does not advance first, how can his subjects follow?' Without Lord Guanyue I, Sphinx Maki, Flat Inumaki, and inner disciple Yuta Gray are just a complete idiot squad."

"Hah, you little—"

Gojo Satoru suddenly laughed. He propped his chin on one hand, as though seeing me anew.

"You chose Yuta over Miss Mei Mei?"

He lifted a corner of his blindfold, revealing those azure Six Eyes. His tone suddenly turned sly, with a hint of teeth-gritting mischief.

"When you drew Gojo Dance, you said you liked mature, rich big-sister types like Miss Mei Mei. I specifically saved the great job of 'making big money by following Mei Mei' for my adorable student. Could it be—"

He leaned close and said in a light, joking tone, "Could it be Makoto actually likes Yuta's type... gloomy and pure? Is that why you can't bear to leave?"

"...Sensei, please put away that dangerous imagination. Mei Mei's commissions are too expensive. I'm afraid I'll go bankrupt if I stay with her too long."

I sighed, but my gaze was unusually calm. "As they say, the number of sorcerers is five to one, so the advantage is ours. Since Shinjuku is a trap prepared especially for you, Jujutsu High needs someone who can see through all of Suguru Geto's little tricks at a glance. Maki and the others are too... well, innocent. Yuta is too kind. Only a black-hearted guy like me can hold out for a few more rounds against your 'old flame,' right?"

"Mizuki, who are you calling stupid?" Maki waved her fist from behind me.

Gojo Satoru was silent for a while before suddenly bursting into hearty laughter. He slapped the back of my head hard enough that he nearly drove me straight into the floor tiles.

"Fine! Since Makoto has that resolve, I approve!"

He put his blindfold back on, his tone as cheerful as though he were approving an application to stay at school over summer break. "Then command of Jujutsu High—officially, it'll be Maki, but I'll leave the decisions involving Limitless to you."

He put his blindfold back on, turned toward the classroom door, and waved to us. His departing figure remained as arrogantly reassuring as ever.

"Maki, Toge, Panda, Yuta, and Makoto. You five stay at the school. Treat it like a paid vacation picnic. If Geto really comes—"

He turned back and winked, his voice as casual as though he were deciding what to have for dinner.

"Then put in a little effort and flatten him, okay? Don't worry, I'll deal with Shinjuku as quickly as possible and bring you souvenirs when I get back. Makoto, don't die, or I'll print out all your browsing history and plaster it across the school gate."

"...Then please hurry back, Sensei. That's a terrifying way to die."

I watched Gojo Satoru disappear at the end of the hallway. When I turned around, I found Maki and the others looking at me as though they were saying, "You really are filthy."

"What are you looking at?" He picked up the drawing board again, a somewhat unhinged curve appearing on his lips. "Since 'the strongest' has left us the stage, we should prepare a proper 'surprise' for that heartless lover, shouldn't we?"

"...Makoto, my name isn't Yuta Gray. Also, your 'cigar' melted. Your mouth is covered in chocolate, and it looks like you're vomiting black blood."

"Shut up, Yuta! This is the dignity of a monarch!"

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