Three days later.
When Dio led the others on their "march on the capital," four figures were already waiting quietly before Jujutsu Headquarters' vermilion main gates, symbols of power and authority.
Naobito Zenin, head of the Zenin Clan, one of the Three Great Families, stood with an unfamiliar stoop in his normally tall, upright frame.
Even his mustache, which always pointed upward like sharp blades, drooped slightly.
He seemed to have let go of some tightly held vigor, giving off an uncharacteristic, almost dejected air of slackness, like the stub of a candle about to burn out or a banana ripened until soft.
"Gentlemen, hold your fire." His voice was hoarse, and he came straight to the point. "To be frank, we came as soon as we heard the news today simply to bear witness."
Then Naobito patted his son, Naoya Zenin, on the shoulder and added:
"I only brought this little brat along to broaden his horizons, so he can see for himself the insurmountable gulf between Grade 1 and Special Grade."
Beside him, Naoya stood with his arms folded, his mouth habitually crooked to one side in something between a sneer and a smirk. Yet his eyes kept straying toward the closed vermilion gates, betraying the tension beneath his forced composure.
Noritoshi Kamo, the next head of the Kamo Clan, one of the Three Great Families, looked solemn and stood straight as a pine. Narrowing his eyes, he said in a low voice, "The era of the Three Great Families... had a beginning, and it will have an end. I came to witness it."
Yoshinobu Gakuganji, principal of Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School and a leading conservative with considerable influence and prestige, rested both hands on an old cane that looked as though it had not been replaced in ten years. His eyes lowered, he said nothing, like a dead stump waiting for the final scorching wind.
At the head of the "march on the capital" stood three Special Grade Sorcerers dressed in Marine admiral cosplay.
Dio had naturally claimed Akainu's blazing dark-red suit and stood still as a frozen flame.
Satoru Gojo wore Aokiji's blue-and-white striped suit loosely, as if carrying the languid air of an icy sea.
Suguru Geto had donned Kizaru's warm orange-yellow suit, an ambiguous gleam in his eyes.
The tails of their oversized white coats, which nearly brushed the ground, lifted gently in the breeze. The boldly inked word "Justice" on their backs swayed with them, again and again, like a silent mockery.
"Principal Gakuganji, you came too."
Masamichi Yaga, who had refused to match their look out of sheer embarrassment and still wore his usual clothes, stepped forward and greeted him in a low voice.
His gaze fixed on the other man's face like a nail.
"Now that it's come to this, do you have anything left to say?"
Gakuganji slowly raised his head. Nothing stirred in those aged eyes; there was only the deathly stillness of a deep pool.
His voice was dry and calm, as if he were describing something unrelated to himself:
"Nothing more. I'm a remnant of the old era. There's no ship in the new era that can carry me... Please, get it over with."
"Gentlemen, could you please stop quoting memes at a time like this...?"
Standing farther back, Atsuya Kusakabe pressed a hand to his forehead in anguish, feeling like an audience member who had wandered into a theater rehearsal.
"You're making the whole atmosphere ridiculous!"
"Huh? I think it works pretty well.
"We're the 'three admirals,' and the old man's 'Whitebeard.' Doesn't that fit the occasion?"
Satoru Gojo whistled away Kusakabe's protest.
A brief silence then spread through the group.
Dio could feel everyone's eyes silently settling on him, waiting for his "judgment."
Looking at the conservative leader before him, who had bared his neck for execution and wanted nothing but death, Dio had already made his decision.
"What are you playing at, clown?"
He suddenly stepped forward, went straight up to Gakuganji, and raised his hand. Smack! A slap without a trace of cursed energy struck the old man squarely across the face.
Caught completely off guard, Gakuganji was hurled away by brute physical force like a puppet with severed strings. He briefly lost his balance in midair before crashing onto the cold, hard paving stones.
Several bloodstained teeth flew from his contorted mouth and clattered away.
The old cane he had kept at his side for ten years flew from his hand as well, bounced a few times against the ground, and rolled helplessly aside.
Naoya's pupils abruptly contracted.
Dio had used no cursed energy to enhance that movement, yet his speed had already rivaled Naoya's top speed with Projection Sorcery active!
This was sheer physical superiority!
Gakuganji propped up half his body on trembling arms, blood pouring from the corner of his mouth.
His face showed neither the contortions of anger nor the slightest fear of death. He simply stared fixedly at Dio, strange, rasping sounds bubbling through the bloody froth in his throat.
After taking a moment to gather himself, he finally asked, his words slurred through the gaps in his teeth, "...Why... why didn't you kill me?"
Dio showed none of a victor's arrogance or contempt. He merely gazed at the old man calmly, pityingly, and asked, "What are you saying... Aren't you afraid to die?"
"Sometimes... people live for a sense of 'shame'... and die for that same 'shame.'"
Pressing against the blood still flowing from the corner of his mouth, Gakuganji actually began to chuckle, the sound hoarse and ugly.
"When you attempt something great... you either succeed completely or fail completely. There's never a middle road."
His mouth twisted into a grin mingling blood and madness:
"If I die today, history will surely remember me-'In 2017, a thoroughly rotten old man of Jujutsu Society died outside Jujutsu Headquarters.'
"Heh, infamy... is better than obscurity.
"Leaving a name that stinks for ten thousand years takes a certain 'talent,' too."
"Wrong." Dio's verdict was decisive. "Utterly wrong!
"You're merely fighting history's inevitable choice in vain, calling it some foolish 'loyalty' or 'integrity' so you can feel moved by your own actions!"
He crouched down and treated Gakuganji with Reverse Cursed Technique, meeting his eyes as he did:
"I won't kill you.
"Dying is easy. It ends everything.
"But I would rather you live on-carrying every mistake and sin of your past.
"Use all the time you have left to repay them, and to bear witness.
"Humanity has shed enough blood. The days of killing one another and endless infighting should be over.
"I came into this world not to bring the sword, but to bring peace!"
Gakuganji froze.
As his injuries healed, the expression he had worn-that readiness to die nobly, that attempt to preserve his "last shred of dignity"-cracked apart like ice.
After a long while, he covered his cheek, where a faint trace of redness and swelling remained. An exceedingly weak light actually rekindled in his eyes.
"Mr. Dio... then perhaps... I'm not beyond saving yet..."
"If you've come around, follow us on your own. Or do you need me to give you a hand?"
Gakuganji stiffened slightly, then lowered the hand covering his face and straightened his aging back.
"...No need."
Even disgraced, even shaken, he refused to abandon his reserve entirely.
Gakuganji reached with difficulty for his cane, planted it against the ground, and stood up on his own, unsteady but resolute.
Then he took a deep breath and saluted.
"Loyalty!"
"Finished?" Satoru Gojo, who had been waiting nearby the whole time, flexed his wrist, his voice brimming with barely restrained eagerness. "Then can I get started?"
Dio gave a slight nod.
"I am the necessary pain of this world! You old fossils, I bring you destruction!"
With that shouted declaration, its style points maxed out, Satoru Gojo kicked Jujutsu Headquarters' heavy gates flying!
"Where... did you learn that line?!"
Following just behind him to one side, Atsuya Kusakabe stumbled and nearly tripped over the threshold, his expression a mixture of shock and helplessness.
"Oh, that."
Dio's calm voice rang out.
"When Satoru and I were chatting yesterday, we discussed the 'style points of dialogue,' so I taught him a few lines along the way... ones I thought sounded impressive."
"Don't copy everything you hear!" Kusakabe clutched his forehead in anguish, feeling his capacity for snark rapidly running dry.
Satoru Gojo had already strode inside, his voice echoing through the empty halls. "We need to focus our main efforts on finding and nurturing more talent! Three Special Grades against zero-the advantage is ours!"
"What's that one a reference to?!" Kusakabe realized he could no longer keep up with these wild shifts.
"Haha, Atsuya, don't be so serious." Satoru looked back, his smile as bright as ever beneath his sunglasses.
Kusakabe sighed, placed a hand on the hilt of the katana at his waist, and slowly drew it halfway out, carefully inspecting its edge:
"Overthrowing your superiors... marching on the capital. Getting to do something like this even once in your life is enough to earn a place in your family history.
"I tossed and turned last night and barely slept. I'm still a little nervous..."
Beside him, Kento Nanami adjusted his glasses and commented flatly, "We deliberately left all the children at school to make sure only adults came today.
"And yet... why are you acting most like a restless child?"
"It's normal to be nervous."
The usually easygoing Larue had, for once, put on a neat black jacket. He rubbed his muscular forearm as he spoke.
"To be honest, I'm nervous too.
"After all, what we're doing... is, in a sense, opening a new era for humanity with our own hands."
"Don't worry. Today's operation can actually be regarded as a 'peaceful transfer of power.'"
Dio offered a calm analysis.
"When it comes down to it, Satoru himself is the head of one of the Three Great Families. He belongs to the most privileged ranks of the old system.
"We're only going to 'deal with' the old leadership of Jujutsu Headquarters, that rotten core. The middle- and lower-ranking personnel who make up the vast majority of the system, the ordinary sorcerers, won't necessarily put up fierce resistance.
"Satoru is already universally acknowledged as the 'strongest' in Jujutsu Society. He's a ready-made banner to rally behind."
"Exactly. If Satoru merely wanted to take power himself, all he would have to do is issue a call. Apart from those old men occupying high positions and doing nothing, most people would accept it, even welcome it."
Suguru Geto picked up the thread.
"But if we want Mr. Dio to take that position, the situation is completely different.
"Even if this is only an armed march, the very fact that we've gathered around him to launch a reform backed by force becomes indispensable.
"It's the most direct way for an 'outsider' to establish authority."
Without further conversation, the group headed straight into the depths of Jujutsu Headquarters.
Jujutsu Society's three admirals walked abreast at the front, radiating an intimidating pressure of cursed energy.
At the sight of this deeply ceremonial procession, every sorcerer and staff member they encountered along the way went pale, their breathing briefly catching.
Some trembled as they retreated to the walls, lowering their heads and not daring to look directly at them. Others instinctively shifted their feet and silently joined the rear of the group.
Not a single person dared step forward to stop them. No one even voiced a question.
Silent and oppressive, the procession passed through the shadows of the ancient buildings like a funeral cortege.
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