Noon, July 18, 2017.
Inside the Jujutsu Higher-Ups' council chamber.
The light was dim. Seven or eight figures sat with their faces hidden in shadow, and only when they occasionally turned their heads did the light catch them.
As the light skimmed the edges of their profiles, their aged, wrinkle-covered faces could barely be made out.
An old man seated at the head of the table tapped his fingers lightly against its surface twice.
"The abandoned shrine area on Mount Yoshida in Kyoto."
He spoke, his voice low and hoarse.
"Last night, a Window observed abnormal cursed energy fluctuations."
"Our preliminary assessment is that a cursed womb is forming."
He paused, his fingertips ceasing their tapping.
"Its estimated grade... is somewhere between Semi-Grade 1 and Grade 1."
An old man seated to his left frowned slightly.
"A cursed womb of that grade,"
His tone held a trace of dismissal. "Does that really need to be brought before a higher-ups' meeting?"
"The circumstances are somewhat unusual."
The old man at the head of the table lifted his eyelids and swept his gaze around the table.
"That mountain is less than ten kilometers from Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High as the crow flies."
"Furthermore, according to the Window's report, that cursed womb's cursed energy fluctuations are rather unstable."
"Fluctuations?"
"Sometimes they suddenly spike to nearly Special Grade, then drop back down."
After those words, the air in the council chamber seemed to freeze for an instant.
Another old man, who had remained silent all this time, slowly opened his eyes.
His eyes were deeply sunken, and the gaze that shot out from beneath his lids carried an uncomfortable sense of scrutiny.
"You suspect..."
The old man at the head of the table met his eyes for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes."
"I believe there may be a Special Grade Cursed Object nearby."
His intonation did not change as he spoke those words, but several figures at the table shifted their posture slightly.
"Sukuna's Finger."
After a few seconds of silence, someone spoke, his voice carrying a suggestion he considered self-evident.
"Then just send Satoru Gojo."
The old man at the head of the table shook his head slightly, the corners of his mouth turning downward.
"He refused."
"He refused again?"
"Satoru Gojo has been growing more and more insolent lately." A shrill voice came from the far end of the table, like a rooster crowing with its throat being squeezed.
"The last mission we assigned him, he passed off to the students below him without so much as a word. Now he's doing it again."
"Does he even remember that he..."
"Enough."
A deep, authoritative voice rang out from the other end of the table, suppressing the shrill voice.
The speaker was an old man seated at the very end.
His build was noticeably more imposing than the others'. Even in his old age, his shoulders were still broad enough to fill out his dark kimono.
His fingers rested interlaced on the table.
"We all know where things stand with Satoru Gojo."
"Our priority now is not complaining about him. It's that cursed womb."
"Someone still needs to deal with it."
The table fell silent for a few seconds.
Then the third person seated on the left spoke.
His voice sounded somewhat younger than the others'.
"Why not have Wangchuan go?"
The moment that name was mentioned, another faint stir ran through those at the table.
The imposing old man narrowed his eyes slightly. "...Wangchuan?"
"Yes."
"He's no weaker than Satoru Gojo. Even handling a Special Grade would be well within his abilities."
"And besides..."
He paused, tapping the tabletop lightly with his fingers.
"He happens to be operating in Kyoto at the moment."
"That fellow," the shrill voice rang out again, carrying obvious displeasure.
"Doesn't he disregard us just as much as Satoru Gojo does?"
"But that fellow cares about money." Another voice picked up the thread, its tone carrying a calculating note.
"Just pay him. Arrogant as he is, he never turns down paying work."
"Are you certain? Last time I sent someone to contact him about dealing with that one in Fukuoka."
"That was because your offer was too low."
"My offer wasn't too low. His price was outrageous!"
Arguments began erupting from every corner of the table, like a pot of cold water slowly heating up, bubbles rising and burbling from different spots.
"People like him have simply been spoiled."
"But he certainly is efficient."
"No amount of efficiency justifies charging a billion."
"But that Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer you hired last time!"
"That was different!"
"Enough."
The imposing old man raised a hand, stopping the increasingly heated argument.
His gaze swept from left to right before settling on the person who had made the suggestion.
"Wangchuan is in Kyoto now?"
"Yes. According to the report, he's with Utahime Iori of Kyoto Jujutsu High."
"Utahime Iori..." The old man pondered for a moment, slowly rubbing his fingers against the tabletop. "A teacher at Kyoto Jujutsu High."
"Yes."
He fell silent for a few seconds. His cloudy yet still sharp eyes shifted slightly, as though he were fitting several puzzle pieces into place in his mind.
Then the corners of his mouth pressed downward, forming a faint curve that carried a calculating air.
"Wangchuan and Utahime Iori are on good terms?"
"Yes."
"And..."
The man paused, lowering his voice a little.
"According to several Kyoto students, their behavior is rather intimate."
The atmosphere around the table changed subtly.
The imposing old man leaned back slightly, interlaced his hands, and lifted his chin a little.
"Then there's no need to send Wangchuan."
He spoke very evenly, but his voice carried an implication everyone present understood.
"Have Utahime Iori's students handle it."
"Send people from Kyoto Jujutsu High."
"This is a matter within Kyoto's jurisdiction to begin with. Having Kyoto handle it themselves is entirely proper."
"And if they encounter danger, he'll naturally step in."
"Then shall we send Aoi Todo and Noritoshi Kamo?"
"What did you say?"
Several of them looked distinctly displeased at hearing the name Kamo.
"A slip of the tongue."
"Then send some of the others."
The table fell silent for two seconds.
Then the shrill voice rang out again, this time with the pleased tone of someone who had suddenly understood.
"I see... have Utahime Iori's students deal with that cursed womb."
"If anything happens... Utahime Iori will naturally feel the pressure as their teacher."
"And Wangchuan..."
"If he truly cares about Utahime Iori, he won't stand idly by."
"And if he intervenes," the imposing old man said mildly.
"We won't have to go out of our way to approach him."
"If he doesn't act..."
"Then his relationship with Utahime Iori amounts to no more than that."
A brief silence fell over the council chamber.
Then a low chuckle came from a corner of the table, like sandpaper scraping the bark of an old tree.
"That's a good idea."
"A very thoughtful arrangement."
"We won't spend a single penny, and we'll be able to test Wangchuan's true attitude."
"And." The imposing old man lowered his eyelids, his gaze falling on his interlaced hands.
"We'll let that perpetually arrogant fellow learn that some things aren't his to get involved in just because he wishes to."
He raised a hand and tapped the table lightly, delivering his conclusion.
"It's settled, then. Have Kyoto send Momo Nishimiya, Kasumi Miwa, and Mai Zenin to deal with the cursed womb on Mount Yoshida."
"Yes."
"Meeting adjourned."
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