He Had the Six Eyes, After All!

Satoru Gojo stood where he was, taking three full seconds to process everything that had just happened.

In the first second, he confirmed one fact: from the nosebleed to the tears to the frantic apologies, Yan Si had been acting the entire time.

That bastard!

In the second second, he confirmed another fact: not only had he believed him, he had willingly deactivated Limitless when Yan Si climbed up and touched his shoulders.

Bastard!

In the third second, he confirmed a third fact-and this was the most infuriating one.

Yan Si had absolutely no remorse.

None whatsoever.

Absolute bastard!

That realization sent an intensely unfamiliar, intensely powerful emotion surging through Satoru Gojo's chest.

Was it anger?

Something like it, but not quite.

He knew anger well. He had gotten angry countless times growing up.

It wasn't hurt, either. That word didn't exist in the vocabulary of the Gojo Clan's Six Eyes bearer.

It was a complicated mixture of frustration and resentment.

Fifteen-year-old Satoru Gojo, the strongest Six Eyes bearer in the Gojo Clan's history, a monstrous genius acknowledged by all of Jujutsu Society, had spent all this time being teased like a cat by an absolute bastard.

This was a first for him.

Satoru Gojo stood there, clenching his back teeth, his azure eyes narrowing to dangerous slits behind his sunglasses.

That bastard.

That scumbag.

He repeated those two words over and over in his head, but neither ever felt satisfying enough.

His vocabulary contained too few insults. A genius who had been put on a pedestal since childhood had never really learned how to swear. He kept cycling through bastard, scumbag, and jerk, all of which did approximately zero damage.

What infuriated him even more was that Yan Si didn't care how he felt.

Of course Yan Si knew Satoru Gojo was angry.

The training ground was only so big, and the oppressive atmosphere around Satoru Gojo had almost taken physical form. The resentment radiating from him after being played was practically visible to the naked eye.

Not to mention that Yan Si was still standing on Satoru Gojo, which made it even easier to feel.

But Yan Si merely glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, filed that information under "hissing kitten," and tossed it into his brain's pending tray with a very low priority.

Let the kitten hiss.

What was he going to do, bite me to death?

Fifteen-year-old Gojo-sensei was a good boy. He wouldn't beat me to death.

Besides, Yan Si had counted on one thing.

Satoru Gojo wouldn't actually attack him.

Not out of kindness or restraint, but simply because his pride wouldn't allow him to seriously attack someone "weak."

And that "weak" label was precisely the one Yan Si had given himself. Yan Si considered himself weak.

Satoru Gojo: "You bastard! What the hell are you talking about?!"

Yan Si formed a perfect closed loop of logic in his head: Satoru Gojo's pride prevented him from beating up the weak; Yan Si was safe because he himself was weak; and although Satoru Gojo knew the other boy wasn't weak, he had already been boxed into that position and couldn't easily go back on it.

Yan Si nodded, approving his own reasoning.

"I'm weak, Dead Cat. You wouldn't bully me, right?"

He was all smiles, without a trace of remorse, his Kansai dialect outrageously smug.

Arrogant and utterly entitled.

Satoru Gojo thought it was bad enough that this guy kept pushing his luck, but now he was mocking him with lines like "I'm weak."

Satoru Gojo grew even angrier.

His emotional fluctuations could practically be measured in changes in air pressure. Even the air around him trembled slightly.

But Yan Si remained entirely unmoved. He even cheerfully waved to Suguru Geto right in front of Satoru Gojo.

"Geto!" The final syllable rose in his Kansai dialect, his good mood completely undisguised.

Suguru Geto was leaning against the metal railing at the edge of the training ground, his arms folded.

He had witnessed the entire thing, from the nosebleed to the tears to the Fruity Robo mecha taking its position. He had seen every twist.

He had even caught the fleeting amusement in Yan Si's lowered eyes, along with the irrepressible upward curve of his lips when Satoru Gojo nodded and said, "You did nothing wrong."

He had witnessed it all. The evidence was conclusive.

So by the time Yan Si waved to him, Suguru Geto was already on full alert.

"Want to come up?" Yan Si pointed at his own shoulders, sounding as enthusiastic as someone promoting a limited-time offer. "Sooo-much-fuuun-"

He drew out the "so" especially long, a mischievous gleam flashing in his purple eyes.

The curve of his lips fell somewhere between a sincere invitation and sheer mischief, making it impossible to tell whether he wanted to share the fun or drag someone else into trouble.

Suguru Geto's gaze shifted from Yan Si's face to his shoulders, then from his shoulders to Satoru Gojo beneath his feet.

Satoru Gojo's face was so dark it could have dripped ink.

His lips were pressed tight, his jaw rigid, his sunglass lenses reflecting a cold light. His entire being radiated an overwhelming aura of "you really are an absolute bastard."

Suguru Geto was a smart person.

One hallmark of smart people was their ability to complete a risk assessment in a tenth of a second.

Accepting Yan Si's invitation meant he would first have to step onto Satoru Gojo's shoulders, then onto Yan Si's.

Stepping onto Satoru Gojo's shoulders meant joining Yan Si as one of Satoru Gojo's "enemies."

He had just finished messing with him, and now he was going to keep at it.

Wasn't that pushing his luck a little too far?!

How could anyone have such an awful personality?!

Yan Si, have you really been reading "How to Talk with High Emotional Intelligence" lately?

Suguru Geto raised a hand to cover his mouth, but he was too late.

The corners of his lips had already lifted a little, and Yan Si saw it perfectly clearly before his hand could hide it.

"Geto, you smiled," Yan Si pointed out mercilessly.

Suguru Geto lowered his hand, his expression already restored to its usual gentle composure.

He shook his head, the movement slight but his stance unmistakable.

"No."

Yan Si tilted his head. "You really don't want to try? It's very stable. I think the shock absorption is pretty good."

As he spoke, he bounced a couple of times.

"Besides, he has the Six Eyes!" Yan Si laughed. "Don't worry about him. He can definitely take it!"

From beneath his feet came a very distinct breath forced through clenched teeth.

Suguru Geto glanced in Satoru Gojo's direction, then turned his attention back to Yan Si.

He looked at the sincere expression on the boy's face. There wasn't even a trace of malice in those purple eyes, which were as innocent as if he were suggesting they go to the cafeteria together.

An indescribably complicated feeling welled up inside Suguru Geto.

How was Yan Si's personality even worse than I thought?!

He really doesn't treat Gojo like a person at all.

Standing on his shoulders and piloting a mecha was bad enough. The guy had just been played, and he hadn't even cooled down yet, but Yan Si had already turned around and invited someone else to step on him too.

He even used "shock absorption" to describe Satoru Gojo's physical capabilities.

He even used "he has the Six Eyes" as an excuse to openly bully him.

He had seen people bully the weak, but he had genuinely never seen anyone bully the strong.

This guy, Yan Si...

Suguru Geto quickly rummaged through his mental vocabulary, trying to find a word that accurately described someone like Yan Si.

Brazen? Not precise enough.

Lawless? Not quite.

Spoiled by affection? Wrong direction.

He considered several words, found none satisfactory, and finally abandoned the search.

Language seemed a little inadequate in the face of an extraordinary specimen like Yan Si.

But he noticed something else.

Although Satoru Gojo was angry, although his expression was frighteningly dark, although the oppressive atmosphere around him seemed close to shattering the training ground's light bulbs, he hadn't thrown Yan Si off his back.

Earlier, when Yan Si had been clinging to his back, Satoru Gojo had spun around several times to shake him off. No matter how you looked at it, that had resembled the instinctive struggle of a cat covered in cockleburs rather than any real counterattack.

There were plenty of ways to throw someone off if he genuinely wanted to. A Jujutsu Sorcerer who could use Limitless had a hundred ways to make the burden on his back disappear.

But Satoru Gojo hadn't used a single one.

Was this still just playing around?

Suguru Geto quietly filed that observation away and decided not to comment.

Seeing how firmly Suguru Geto refused, Yan Si showed genuine disappointment.

The disappointed expression was perfectly executed: a slight furrow between his brows, downturned lips, and a dimming of the light in his purple eyes.

Pretty and pitiful.

But a closer look would reveal that he was still smiling deep in his eyes.

"All right."

Yan Si sighed, the disappointment in his voice sounding utterly genuine. "Geto, you really have no sense of adventure at all."

Suguru Geto fell silent for a few seconds, his fingers pausing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The gesture was purely habitual.