A demon's face! Schemes!

"Restraint."

Masamichi Yaga rolled the word around in his mouth, the three vertical creases between his brows deepening.

He set his teacup heavily back on the coffee table with a dull thud.

"Your idea of restraint is letting all of Jujutsu Society know about Haibara and Rika Orimoto?"

Wangchuan remained reclined on the sofa, his hands behind his head, his posture unchanged.

At that, he merely tilted his head slightly.

"So you've heard, Principal."

Masamichi Yaga could no longer stay seated.

He stood and walked to the window, his back to Wangchuan. His voice was very low, but the emotion he was suppressing seemed on the verge of spilling out at the ends of his words.

"Heard?"

He turned around, the setting sun shining from behind him, casting his entire figure into a dark silhouette.

"All of Jujutsu Society is talking about it. What do you think?"

"Wangchuan!"

"I don't know whether those things you said are true, but even if they are!"

"Why did you have to spread it everywhere?"

"Don't think I don't know. You had Mei Mei help you spread this information, didn't you?"

Wangchuan kept smiling and did not deny it.

Looking at that smile, Masamichi Yaga felt his temple twitch.

"Do you know what bringing the dead back to life means?"

He took a heavy step toward Wangchuan, his sole striking the floor with a dull sound.

"It would drive all of Jujutsu Society-no! The entire world-mad."

"Those people at the top, those institutions holding power, those forces hiding underground-they'll all set their sights on you."

"Wangchuan!"

He stopped, braced both hands against the edge of his desk, and leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Wangchuan's face.

"What exactly are you thinking?"

Wangchuan met his gaze with the same faint smile.

He shifted position, taking his hands from behind his head to prop an elbow on the sofa's armrest and rest his chin in his hand.

"Hahaha, don't get so worked up, Principal."

"It's not a big deal."

Masamichi Yaga's heart nearly leaped into his throat.

"Not a big deal?"

His voice rose half a pitch, the principal's dignity he had struggled to maintain finally cracking at the end.

"You call this not a big deal?"

He drew a deep breath, the veins on his forehead visible.

Slowly, as though using every ounce of his self-control, he sat back down on the sofa.

The instant his back touched the backrest, he closed his eyes briefly, as though hauling himself back from some extreme state.

After several seconds of silence, he opened his eyes again, his voice returning to its low, steady register.

Yet beneath that steadiness, a deeply suppressed tension still lingered.

"Even if."

He spoke, enunciating each word.

"You want to use that bizarre magic to bring someone back to life, just do it quietly."

"Why stir up such an uproar?"

"You know, once those people at the top learn about this."

"Even if they're only half convinced and don't know whether it's true, that alone is enough to draw their attention to you."

He leaned slightly toward Wangchuan.

"Do you understand what that means?"

Wangchuan quietly listened until he finished, then the curve of his lips deepened a little.

He lowered his head and looked at his fingers, as though admiring something.

"That's exactly the effect I want."

He raised his head and met Masamichi Yaga's eyes.

"Only then can I get what I want."

"The attention of all those people who control ninety percent of this world's resources will turn to me!"

"And that means an endless stream of money."

At the word "money," Masamichi Yaga's brows abruptly knitted.

"Fuck."

His lips moved as though he wanted to say something, but he swallowed the words before they came out.

He leaned back on the sofa, his expression that of someone trying to digest something utterly beyond his comprehension.

Wangchuan watched his expression without explaining.

He could not explain.

Only he knew that the system would ultimately convert that money into Demon Coins, into the fuel that would let him keep moving forward.

Every increase in his integration with the Tso Lan Template required enormous resources.

Progress was secondary. Most importantly, the other seven demons' templates could only be exchanged for Demon Coins.

And in this world.

To obtain money and resources.

The fastest, cleanest way was through those people at the top.

Wangchuan stood, took two steps, and stopped beside the coffee table. He looked at the embryos in the glass jars, his gaze passing through the glass to settle on those curled-up outlines.

"They're not fully convinced yet."

"They're still watching and waiting."

"But once I bring Haibara and Rika Orimoto back to life."

He turned to look at Masamichi Yaga, his smile carrying an indescribable expression, as though he had foreseen something very interesting.

"When that happens, those people will get on their knees and beg me to take their money."

"See?"

"Isn't that interesting, Principal?"

Masamichi Yaga remained silent for a long time.

He sat on the sofa, his hands folded over his knees, his gaze resting on Wangchuan's face.

Then he spoke.

"Wangchuan."

"You'll be in grave danger that way."

He paused, as though weighing his next words, but his voice had already taken on a seriousness that bordered on heaviness.

"Do you think you alone can stand against the entire world?"

The instant those words fell, the light in the room seemed to dim for a moment.

Wangchuan's smile changed.

No!

His face changed!

The corners of his mouth were still curved upward, but that curve was no longer an expression a human could make.

For an instant, the right half of his face took on another form in the lingering light of sunset.

His skin became pale and smooth, the white of his eye turned pure red, and a long tongue lay inside his mouth.

That half of his face bore an utterly calm expression, as though looking down on ants.

Only for an instant.

But Masamichi Yaga saw all of it.

"Danger?"

"Hahahaha..."

His voice still held laughter, but its timbre carried an echo that did not belong to a human.

"If it really comes to that."

"I'll let them feel what a demon's power is."

That half of his face returned to normal, as though it had never changed.

Wangchuan sat back down on the sofa and crossed his legs, his posture as relaxed as though he had just finished a casual chat.

Masamichi Yaga froze in place.

His pupils widened slightly, and the fine hairs on the backs of his hands rose faintly, the sort of subtle reaction that came only when something brushed the edges of his subconscious.

What had he just seen?

"Wangchuan, you...?"

Wangchuan curved his lips at him, his tone returning to its usual languor.

"Don't worry. I've always known my limits."

Masamichi Yaga did not answer.

He simply sat there, looking at the young man before him who was still smiling, and remained silent for a long time.

"Satoru Gojo is called a monster, but what they don't know is that you're the real monster."

"What exactly are you..."

In the end, Masamichi Yaga left that final question unspoken.