Tokyo, Tokyo Jujutsu High.
Only one light was on in the conference room.
Principal Gakuganji sat at the head of the long table, a black landline telephone in front of him and its receiver held to his ear.
His face showed little expression.
The voices on the other end were muddled, as though several people were gathered around a speakerphone. Occasionally, a teacup clinked against the tabletop.
"Gakuganji."
An aged voice spoke first.
"The matter of Yuji Itadori cannot be delayed any longer."
Gakuganji did not respond immediately.
"Keeping Sukuna's vessel at Jujutsu High and raising him there-what kind of conduct is that?"
Another voice cut in, somewhat shriller and tinged with impatience.
"He's already a vessel for three fingers. If he keeps eating them, Sukuna will be fully resurrected sooner or later."
"When that happens, who will take responsibility?"
"You? Or Satoru Gojo?"
Gakuganji tapped a finger against the wooden table, making a faint sound.
"I know."
His voice was level, revealing little emotion.
"But Satoru Gojo will not agree to Yuji Itadori's execution."
The other end went quiet for a beat.
Then the first voice spoke again, its tone somewhat heavier than before.
"Satoru Gojo."
"Does it matter so much whether he agrees?"
"He is a teacher at Jujutsu High, not its decision-maker."
The corner of Gakuganji's mouth moved slightly. It was hard to tell whether it was a bitter smile or something else.
"He's Satoru Gojo."
That was all he said.
The other end fell silent again.
Satoru Gojo.
No one needed to emphasize the weight that name carried in Jujutsu Society: the strongest, the most uncontrollable, the one with the least regard for rules.
He could slaughter the entire Jujutsu Higher-Ups single-handedly, and no one would be able to stop him.
Those higher-ups all knew that