Some time later.
Tokyo.
The gates of Jujutsu High stood open in the afternoon sunlight.
Wangchuan walked down the familiar stone path, a small bag slung over his shoulder, his pace unhurried, like someone returning from a shopping trip.
Then a white figure dropped out of the treetops beside him.
"Chuan!"
Satoru Gojo drew out his name in a bright voice, landing beside Wangchuan like a large cat.
One arm draped naturally over his shoulders, pressing almost half his body weight onto him.
"What took you so long to come back?"
Wangchuan swayed under the arm around his shoulders, but kept walking.
He did not even turn his head, simply continuing forward, his tone carrying a languor born of long familiarity.
"Oh, Gojo."
"Why are you at school at this hour?"
He paused, turning to glance at the smiling face beneath Satoru Gojo's blindfold.
"Shouldn't you be out on a mission from the higher-ups?"
At that, Satoru Gojo released Wangchuan's neck.
He stepped back half a pace and folded his arms, chin slightly raised, wearing the smug air of someone with nothing on his plate.
"The higher-ups? What work can those old geezers give me now?"
"Ever since I handed off most of the missions dealing with Special Grade Cursed Spirits..."
"Well, handed them to you, that is."
He spread his hands.
"Life's been much easier."
Wangchuan raised an eyebrow at him.
Of those difficult Special Grade missions, Wangchuan accepted the well-paying ones he thought could improve his strength.
He had Yuta Okkotsu volunteer for the ones he passed over.
"Besides."
Satoru Gojo abruptly changed the subject, some of the languidness leaving his voice.
It was replaced by a note of satisfaction, the sort he only used when reporting good news.
"Yuta Okkotsu has made astonishing progress."
"His control over that Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit, Rika, is on an entirely different level now."
"The higher-ups used to worry about him losing control, but now..."
He held up a finger and drew a small circle in front of him.
"Perfect."
Wangchuan's steps briefly faltered at that assessment.
He did not rush to respond, simply continuing along the corridor beside Satoru Gojo, waiting for him to finish.
"And the kid's been incredibly motivated lately."
"He's been taking missions like crazy."
"Those Special Grade missions you handed off? He takes them."
"Even the Grade 1 missions-if he can get a slot, he takes every last one."
"Jujutsu High's records room has a separate folder just for him now, containing nothing but records of the missions he's completed."
"Do you know how many he's done in the last two months?"
Satoru Gojo suddenly turned his head toward him.
"Eighty-seven. Two months, eighty-seven."
Wangchuan finally stopped walking.
He fell silent for a moment, then murmured under his breath.
"Eighty-seven?"
"Mm-hmm." Satoru Gojo nodded.
"He's been working Maki and the others to tears."
"Maki Zenin came to me last week and said she'd never been so exhausted in her life. That kid Okkotsu can hit three locations a day, and after a month of accompanying him as backup, she nearly couldn't take it anymore."
A drop of cold sweat slid down Wangchuan's temple.
He closed his eyes briefly, picturing Yuta Okkotsu's face with its dark circles, those once-lost eyes now filled with an almost obsessive resolve.
He had indeed mentioned resurrection to Okkotsu during their earlier conversation, and said money was one of the key conditions, but...
"...This is way too crazy."
He murmured.
Hearing that, Satoru Gojo suddenly fell quiet for a moment.
He stood beside Wangchuan with his hands in his pockets, looking toward the sunlit clearing at the end of the corridor.
After a while, he spoke, his voice a little lower than before, most of its joking air gone.
"Chuan."
"Yeah."
"Honestly, the reason Yuta's pushing himself so hard..."
He turned his head, looking at Wangchuan through his blindfold.
"It's you, isn't it?"
Wangchuan did not deny it.
Satoru Gojo continued, his voice still steady, but with an underlying, almost serious tentativeness that rarely surfaced in him.
"He told me, you know..."
"He told me you could bring Rika back."
"That kid's engraved those words in his mind. Everything he does now, every mission he takes, every payment he earns, it's all for that goal."
He paused.
"I can understand that."
Satoru Gojo's voice softened a little. "But if he gives it everything he's got, only to find that road leads nowhere..."
He stopped, leaving the sentence unfinished.
The corridor was quiet for a few seconds.
Wangchuan glanced at him.
Then he spoke, his tone as languid as ever, but his words settled firmly in the air.
"A road that leads nowhere?"
"You'd have to walk it first to find out."
He turned, took two steps toward the bench beside the corridor, and sat down.
As he leaned against the wooden backrest, he raised a hand and patted the seat beside him.
"Sit."
Satoru Gojo looked at him for two seconds, then walked over and sat beside him.
The bench gave a faint creak under their combined weight.
"Chuan."
"Yeah."
"You're serious?" Satoru Gojo's voice held a rare, almost cautious gravity.
"Bringing back the dead... you've really developed magic like that?"
Wangchuan leaned against the backrest, his gaze resting on the ground ahead, bleached white by the sunlight.
He was silent for a few seconds, as though gathering his words.
"Yeah, I'm serious."
Satoru Gojo's breathing caught slightly.
He could sense the air coming from the person beside him.
It was no joke, no brush-off.
"Really?!"
"That's unbelievable..."
"To be honest..."
Satoru Gojo's voice grew even softer, carrying a candor he himself had not fully noticed, the sort that only emerged when something had moved him.
"I've seen you do those things with what you call magic, but resurrecting humans."
"That's completely beyond my understanding."
"Chuan."
Wangchuan turned his head and glanced at him.
Satoru Gojo's blindfold covered his eyes, but Wangchuan could feel the weight of that gaze through the fabric.
There was no doubt in it, only the dazedness of someone struck by an immense possibility, unsure for the moment how to process it.
"Resurrection is possible," Wangchuan said.
His voice was calm, as though stating an objective fact that had already been verified many times.
"And there's more than one way."
Satoru Gojo's shoulders tensed slightly for an instant.
Then he leaned back against the bench, his body seeming to tilt back slightly under the weight of those words.
He remained silent for a long while before speaking.
"...But."
When he said the word, it was not a question.
He knew Wangchuan's personality. If he said it was possible, conditions were bound to follow.
Wangchuan nodded once.
"But the prerequisite is..."
He raised his hand, extended a finger, and pointed at the sky.
"That person's soul must still be in the soul passage."
Satoru Gojo's brow shifted slightly. Though it was hard to see through the blindfold, Wangchuan could sense the confusion in his gaze.
"The soul passage?"
"People usually call it something else."
"Hell."
Before you continue