All along the way, Satoru Gojo never tired of scaring Ijichi, and Ijichi fell for it every single time. Ever since yesterday, Sherlock had noticed something off about the slightly bizarre way those two interacted.
After observing them today, Sherlock was certain: Satoru Gojo, that Dickhead Cat, was just fucking playing with Ijichi like a cat teaser.
Sherlock found their strange relationship so distasteful that he could not be bothered with either of them. He opened the window and stuck his hand outside, quietly enjoying how it felt bigger at higher speeds and smaller at lower ones.
After bullying Ijichi for a while, Satoru Gojo noticed Sherlock had gone quiet and spotted what he was doing. A little puzzled, he copied him, but the sheltered Six Eyes noticed nothing amiss. Instead, he started mocking Sherlock for being childish and even offered to buy him a little pinwheel.
Sherlock answered Satoru Gojo with nothing more than a look reserved for a virgin, ignoring his taunts the entire time. That left Dickhead Cat unusually furious, but he could find no way to argue back, so he could only sit beside Sherlock and sulk like a cat, planning to ask Shoko about it once he got back today.
As Satoru Gojo sulked, the car gradually quieted down. Once they entered central Tokyo, Sherlock closed the window; at city driving speeds, he could hardly feel anything anyway.
As they drove on, however, Sherlock gradually began noticing something wrong.
Fuck, this route looks familiar. When I first transmigrated, didn't I keep coming this way out of morbid curiosity whenever I had the chance?
Satoru Gojo's mission is actually out this way?
Sherlock turned toward Satoru Gojo with utter disbelief on his face, seemingly wondering whether Gojo was forced to come here for a mission or had some fucking secret hobby.
What? You wanted to know why Sherlock reacted like that?
The reason was simple: in the direction they were driving lay a street famous throughout the world-the renowned Kabukicho!
Not only did it have soaplands with all sorts of young women offering borderline services, it also had countless host clubs and all manner of establishments brimming with uniquely Japanese character, fully carrying on the street's original tradition as Tokyo's "pleasure quarter."
By the time Ijichi parked at the entrance to Kabukicho, Sherlock's expression had begun to twist.
Wrong. This is nine-tenths of ten-tenths wrong.
Given how sheltered Satoru Gojo and his Six Eyes were, the odds of him having awakened to such things and coming here for some "activities" were virtually zero. Besides, Sherlock was certain the Dickhead Cat before him was absolutely still a fucking virgin, or he could not possibly have missed even the most basic joke about bigger at higher speeds and smaller at lower ones.
So...
For some inexplicable reason, Sherlock developed an extremely bad feeling, and that feeling reached its peak when Satoru Gojo brought him to the entrance of a host club.
"All right, Xia-chan, here's the location for today's mission. According to our intel, this place is closely connected to a Curse User called 'Loan Shark.' It seems someone here has entered into a partnership with him."
"Let me stop you there. What abilities does this Curse User nicknamed 'Loan Shark' have?"
Sherlock interrupted Satoru Gojo midway through his explanation. Compared to that background information, he was more concerned about this Curse User's Cursed Technique.
Satoru Gojo was not the least bit annoyed at being interrupted. On the contrary, after hearing Sherlock's question, he raised a finger and explained with a look that said his pupil showed promise.
"Loan Shark's Cursed Technique is called 'Nine Lent, Thirteen Repaid.' It's a particularly interesting technique. He can lend Cursed Energy to others, and that lent energy acts more like a cure-all ointment. It can improve their looks, or even enhance physical fitness, alcohol tolerance, and other personal abilities.
"Of course, since he's called 'Loan Shark,' those loans obviously come with a time limit. Borrowers must obtain fresh Cursed Energy from the technique's holder every month. Otherwise, once the time runs out, not only will everything they gained through the loan be repossessed, even what was originally theirs will be taken as interest.
"And ordinary people don't have much Cursed Energy. There's only one thing they can give."
"Their lives."
Sherlock supplied the price those under Loan Shark's control would pay for defaulting. He could even imagine the interest they had to pay each month.
It was simple: this Curse User, codenamed Loan Shark, was using his Cursed Technique to make money. As for what Loan Shark did with the "lives" he collected, Sherlock did not know.
But Satoru Gojo's next words made Sherlock's brow furrow reflexively.
"Our mission is to investigate exactly what Mr. Loan Shark is doing with ordinary people's 'lives.'"
???
Three enormous question marks appeared over Sherlock's head. Wait, is this fucking right?
A Curse User is using his Cursed Technique to rake in money in the ordinary world, and those old fossils aren't concerned about him brutalizing ordinary people, but about what he's doing with their 'lives'?
Seeing Sherlock's tightly furrowed brow, Satoru Gojo patted him on the shoulder, pulled him into a one-armed embrace, and spoke cheerfully.
"All right, don't overthink it. Those old fossils among the Higher-Ups are just like that. They're rotten through and through!"
After saying that, Satoru Gojo took out his phone and checked the time before continuing.
"All right, it's almost time for our appointment. Xia-chan, our mission today is to pass the interview, infiltrate the place to gather information on Loan Shark, then find the man himself and figure out exactly what he's up to. That's it!"
"Sou desu ne~~ my ass!! Explain what the fuck you mean by passing the interview! What the fuck are you interviewing for?"
Sherlock practically jumped ten feet in the air trying to wriggle out from under Satoru Gojo's arm. Unfortunately, Gojo's arm was like an iron clamp; no matter how hard Sherlock tried, he could not budge it an inch.
"To be hosts, of course! Don't worry, Xia-chan. This job will be much more exciting than some fan festival, and all the women you'll be dealing with are rich ladies~"
Satoru Gojo cheerfully spoke to Sherlock as he hauled him toward the host club's back door.
"No! Let me go! Matte, matte, matte~ Help! An upstanding man is being trafficked!!!!"
Unfortunately, Sherlock's struggles attracted absolutely no attention, and Satoru Gojo forcibly dragged him to the host club's back door.
Seeing that escape was impossible, Sherlock felt anger surge through his heart and malice steel his nerve the instant Satoru Gojo opened the door. He immediately latched onto Gojo like an octopus.
Because they were going undercover, Satoru Gojo had his Limitless running at its lowest output. Caught off guard, he really did let Sherlock latch onto him.
The instant the host club's manager opened the door, Sherlock spoke first, before Satoru Gojo could say anything, addressing the manager who was staring at them in surprise.
"Hello, manager. My older brother is just too shy and feels a little embarrassed about interviewing with me. Besides, I think he has even more advantages than I do! Please, you must let us brothers work here together!"
!!!
Three enormous exclamation marks appeared over Satoru Gojo's head. He had originally planned to dump Sherlock here, and now he stared in disbelief at Sherlock hanging from his body.
Sherlock, meanwhile, looked smug, as though everything had gone exactly as he had expected.
This move-this is what you call predicting your prediction!