Yuji Itadori?!

The lights were still on in the Time Vessel Association's temple.

Manami Suda sat on the sofa. Hearing footsteps, she looked up and glanced past Suguru Geto's shoulder toward the doorway, but saw nothing.

"You're back, Lord Suguru Geto."

She closed the tablet in her hands, her tone neutral, as though she were commenting on something entirely expected.

But she still couldn't help glancing toward the door again.

Suguru Geto walked over to an armchair and sat down.

He reached out and poured himself a cup of tea, his movements unhurried.

"Stop looking, Manami."

"He didn't agree."

At that, Manami Suda actually seemed relieved.

She leaned back against the sofa and folded her arms. "I told you a guy like that would never agree."

She paused, a hint of pain at the loss entering her voice. "Sigh... what a waste of a very fine Special Grade Cursed Spirit, Lord Suguru Geto."

"It wasn't entirely a waste." Suguru Geto lifted his teacup and took a sip.

"At least I got to see him in action firsthand."

"Then what did you think of him?"

Suguru Geto set his cup down and lightly rubbed a fingertip along its rim.

"Strong!"

"Extremely strong! And as a person..."

"He's very interesting."

"Although we couldn't agree on a price this time, we might have a chance to work together in the future."

"A price?" Manami Suda's brow furrowed again. "He named a price?"

"He did."

"How much?"

"Six hundred billion," Suguru Geto said evenly. "Yen. In cash."

Manami Suda's mouth fell open and stayed that way for a long while. "...Is he insane?"

"Does he think we're a bank?"

"He probably didn't expect me to come up with it."

Suguru Geto smiled faintly, a trace of contemplation in his expression. "It was more like... he was testing me."

Manami didn't pursue that remark. She picked up her tablet and swiped twice, moving on to business.

"By the way, Lord Suguru Geto, we've squeezed another few million dollars out of those monkeys."

"Oh?" Suguru Geto raised his eyebrows.

"A biotech company was willing to pay a high price for our special consulting services."

The corners of Manami's mouth curved slightly.

"They thought it was some sort of high-end crisis management, when all we actually did was handle a few inexplicable accidents for them."

Suguru Geto nodded.

He tapped his fingers lightly against the armrest twice.

"Not bad."

"That's about all those monkeys who can't use Jujutsu are good for. Providing funds, providing cover, providing... resources we can sacrifice when necessary."

His tone was flat as he said this, as though stating some objective fact.

"Manami."

"Yes."

"Contact Miguel and Larue. Have them come to Japan."

Manami Suda tilted her head. "Hmm? Are the Cursed Spirits you've subdued lately... still not enough, Lord Suguru Geto?"

"There are too few." Suguru Geto shook his head.

His gaze turned toward the outline of the old pine outside the window, its branches stained a deep, inky black by the night.

"And there's one more uncertain factor now."

"You mean Wangchuan?"

"If he could exorcise Hōzō so easily today, he could dispose of any Cursed Spirit in my possession in even less time tomorrow."

Suguru Geto's voice remained gentle, but his words were very concrete.

"If he decides to interfere, our plan will face a major obstacle."

"So you want to..."

"It would be best to get him away from Jujutsu High." Suguru Geto narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Whatever the method, whether it's keeping him busy with other missions or distracting him."

"As long as he isn't in Tokyo, isn't by Satoru's side, our operation will go much more smoothly."

Manami Suda nodded. "Understood. I'll make the arrangements."

She stood, straightened her skirt, and walked toward the door.

At the doorway, she glanced back. "Get some rest early, Lord Suguru Geto."

"Mm."

The door was gently pulled shut.

The room fell quiet, with only a few wisps of steam slowly dissipating above the tea beneath the light.

Suguru Geto lay on his side, propping his head on one hand, his gaze resting on the glass lamp beside the teacup. Its shade filtered the light into a soft, warm orange.

He didn't close his eyes, the scene from earlier turning over in his mind.

Wangchuan had stood amid the ruins after the dust settled and said those words without context.

"You used to be so gentle."

Suguru Geto briefly closed his eyes.

"...Did you tell him, Satoru?"

"Otherwise... he couldn't have known."

June 23, 2017, Sendai.

The afternoon sunlight passed through the tiny leaves of the roadside trees.

On the sidewalk.

Wangchuan walked through the shade along the road, his phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, an iced coffee from a convenience store raised in his other hand.

"What is it, Gojo?"

Satoru Gojo's drawn-out voice came through the phone. "Chuan, where are you?"

"Sendai."

"Sendai? What are you doing in Sendai?"

"On a mission."

Wangchuan took a sip of coffee. "A graded Cursed Spirit has been hanging around a school for days. I was passing through, so I came to deal with it."

"Passing through? You passed all the way from Tokyo to Sendai? That's one hell of a detour."

"None of your damn business."

Satoru Gojo clicked his tongue on the other end. "Okay, okay. So how much does this mission pay? Did Jujutsu High send you?"

"Yeah. A mission from the higher-ups."

There was obvious disdain in Wangchuan's voice. "The pay's too low. If I hadn't happened to be passing through, I wouldn't even have taken it."

"How much?"

"Only a little under ten million."

"Enough to buy you two meals."

"Then that's really not much," Satoru Gojo concluded before quickly changing the subject.

"Forget that. Tell me, what exactly did you say to Yuta Okkotsu?"

Wangchuan's steps faltered. "...What do you mean, what did I say?"

"He's been training like a madman lately! Every day, he gets up before dawn to practice Cursed Energy control, then trains until midnight."

"Even Maki's struggling to keep up with him."

"I asked him what was wrong, and all he said was, 'I want to get stronger. I want to make money.'"

"He never used to push himself this hard, and he wasn't that into money, either."

Satoru Gojo's voice carried the certainty that Wangchuan knew the inside story.

"You must have said something to him, right?"

Wangchuan stopped outside a school.

The school gate was the usual iron-barred kind, with a sign on its pillar reading "Sendai Municipal Sugisawa Third High School."

The lunch break had just ended.

A handful of students were coming and going at the gate, their uniforms worn loosely.

Their schoolbags hung from one shoulder, and the sounds of chatter and horseplay drifted out from inside.

Looking at the gate, Wangchuan pictured Yuta Okkotsu's face with its dark circles.

The obsession with resurrecting Rika must have taken root in Yuta Okkotsu's heart.

Yuta Okkotsu in the original story was already a formidable fighter.

But if that motivation becomes making money to resurrect someone important to him, then the Yuta Okkotsu of the future...