"I understand. I'll help you bring the Culling Game under control."
Kinji Hakari's voice steadied, as though he had finally found a loose end in a tangled mess.
"But I'm not doing this out of sentiment. This is a deal. Once the Culling Game is over, you'll help me in return."
"You want a say in revising the jujutsu regulations." Kento Nanami stood with his arms folded, his tone as flat as if he were stating a fact that needed no confirmation.
"That's fine," Nanami continued. "The existence of cursed spirits is public knowledge now, so revisions are inevitable. And I have no objections to your ideas."
He paused, and a sharp gleam suddenly flashed through his perpetually weary eyes.
"After all..."
"Jujutsu sorcerers are shit!"
He said it earnestly-so earnestly that everyone present felt a simultaneous pang of embarrassment.
The air seemed to catch in its throat. Itadori's mouth twitched, Megumi Fushiguro's brow gave an almost imperceptible jump, and Kirara Hoshi turned his head, pretending to admire the distant scenery.
Kinji Hakari suddenly rose and strode forward. His back was straight and resolute, like a blade freshly drawn from its sheath.
Megumi Fushiguro watched him, then suddenly spoke. His voice was quiet, but every word rang clear across the rooftop swept by the night breeze.
"Actually, whatever you have in mind, I don't think it'll be that difficult."
"Huh?" Kinji Hakari whipped his head around, his brows knitting as he glared at Megumi Fushiguro. "What do you know, brat? Spiky head, spit it out."
"I'm the head of the Zenin Clan." Megumi Fushiguro walked toward him at an unhurried pace, his soles striking the rooftop concrete with steady, rhythmic footsteps. His expression was as calm as a windless lake, but the light in his eyes was certain.
Kirara Hoshi