Gojo immediately felt Kumadori's attack coming head-on toward him, and without hesitation, he turned slightly and took the staff strike head-on. Kumadori's staff and Gojo's sword collided with a sharp clang that echoed through the air. As Gojo hadn't put much force behind his defense, the impact pushed him back—he slid across a few feet, boots scraping against the ground, before finally stabilizing himself.
He straightened, lifting his gaze. Ahead of him, both Kumadori and Blueno were staring at him, their eyes filled with murderous intent, clearly ready for their next attack. The air felt heavier, charged with killing intent.
Gojo felt it… and a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Come on."
The moment the words left his mouth, Kumadori and Blueno moved at the same time. Their attacks came in perfect sync, their coordination flawless. Not bad… Gojo thought as their movements overlapped seamlessly.
After all, they were both members of CP9—elite assassins who knew how to function as a unit when required.
And right now, Blueno and Kumadori were proving exactly that.
Gojo also started giving his all. Right now, his "all" meant using his full physical strength along with Observation Haki at its peak. His senses stretched outward, every movement around him becoming clearer, sharper. Of course, he wasn't using his Limitless—nor was he using any other form of Haki. He remained on pure defense.
He knew he wouldn't be able to defeat them based on physical strength alone… but that was never his goal. I just need to see more… understand more. He wanted to watch them perform the Six Powers again and again, to break down every motion, every shift in their bodies, so he could learn them.
And soon, he got exactly what he was expecting.
Kumadori and Blueno kept attacking him relentlessly, their assaults coming in waves without pause. At times, they used Finger Pistol, their strikes piercing through the air with deadly precision. Gojo would tilt his body or shift a step aside, narrowly dodging, before retaliating with a swift sword strike aimed to pressure them back.
Then, in the next instant, they would evade using Paper Arts, their bodies going unnaturally limp and fluid, bending and slipping away from his blade as if they were weightless sheets caught in the wind.
And if ever they didn't have enough time to use Paper Arts to dodge Gojo's attack, they would harden themselves instantly—Iron Body. His blade would strike against them with a dull thud, sparks sometimes flickering at the point of contact, yet failing to cut through.
So that's the timing… the shift in muscle tension…
Like this, the intense battle continued for the next five minutes without a single moment of rest. The dining hall of the hotel was thrown into chaos—tables overturned, chairs shattered, fragments scattered across the floor. The entire area seemed filled with rushing air currents created by their continuous high-speed movements, their steps cracking against the ground, their clashes sending sharp shockwaves through the room.
Each collision echoed loudly, the air itself trembling from the force of their exchanges, as the three of them moved like blurs within the confined space.
Gojo watched them perform the Six Powers flawlessly, his eyes tracking every movement, every subtle shift. So far, they had used Finger Pistol, Paper Arts, Iron Body, and Shave for high-speed movement. Each technique flowed into the next without hesitation, as if it were second nature to them.
And Gojo… was observing everything.
At the same time, he pushed himself to his limits—Observation Haki fully active, his physical strength pushed to its peak, his body moving at top speed just to keep up. Every dodge, every block, every counter demanded precision. Faster… sharper… don't miss a single detail.
This was also a very good training for him. Right now, he wasn't relying on his Limitless. If he had been using it, he could have ended this battle long ago without much effort. But he chose not to.
And because of that, Gojo was feeling the pressure.
The constant barrage of attacks, the flawless coordination, the relentless pace—it all weighed on him. His muscles tensed, his breaths grew heavier with each passing second. Clearly, both Kumadori and Blueno were highly skilled fighters.
The battle continued like this for five minutes straight.
Then, finally, there was a pause.
Gojo, Blueno, and Kumadori separated, sliding back across the ground before coming to a stop, standing once again facing each other. For a brief moment, no one moved. The only sound in the ruined dining hall was the heavy breathing from both sides, echoing faintly in the disrupted space. Their chests rose and fell as they caught their breath, the tension still thick in the air.
Kumadori's eyes shifted for a moment—and he noticed it.
A large chunk of meat resting on one of the tables. Clearly, before all this chaos, the people in the hotel had been eating.
Without hesitation, Kumadori activated his Life Return technique.
His hair began to move.
It writhed and extended unnaturally, strands lengthening and twisting as if they had a will of their own. Then, it took shape—forming something like a hand. The hair-hand shot forward, grabbed the chunk of meat, and brought it back to Kumadori.
In one gulp, Kumadori swallowed the entire piece.
But he didn't stop there.
Other strands of his hair spread out in multiple directions, sweeping across the nearby tables, grabbing whatever food remained—meat, dishes, anything edible—and pulling it all back toward him. One after another, he consumed everything without pause.
And then—
His body began to swell.
His figure expanded rapidly, his stomach ballooning outward as if he had been inflated from within. In mere moments, Kumadori appeared like a balloon after devouring such a massive amount of food. The tables around him were left completely empty, stripped clean of anything edible, as he stood there, now visibly bulked up from everything he had just consumed.
Kumadori used Life Return once again, and in an instant, his swollen body began to shrink. The excess mass receded rapidly, his form returning to its original size as if nothing had happened. At the same time, the stamina he had lost while fighting Gojo recovered completely. His breathing steadied, his posture straightened—once again, Kumadori stood at his peak.
With a sudden flourish, Kumadori began his strange, rhythmic dance, his body swaying as he pointed his staff toward Gojo.
"YOYOI! Let's do round two."
Gojo chuckled softly upon hearing Kumadori's words, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted his grip on his sword. A faint glint of excitement flickered in his eyes.
"Well then, let's do round two."
The moment the words left his mouth, Kumadori and Blueno moved again—this time even faster, their coordination just as sharp as before. The air cracked under the force of their acceleration as they attacked Gojo simultaneously.
Kumadori stepped in first, using his technique—Finger Gun Q. His staff thrust forward with piercing speed, mimicking the deadly precision of Finger Pistol, the tip cutting through the air toward Gojo.
At the same time, Blueno launched a new technique—Tempest Kick. With a swift, powerful motion, he released a compressed air slash that tore through the space between them, slicing forward with lethal intent.
The two attacks converged on Gojo from different angles.
And yet—
As soon as Gojo saw this, a smile appeared on his face.
"Well then," he said calmly, "I've been watching you both use this martial arts technique. Let me use it."
The instant he finished speaking, Gojo moved.
His body shifted—no, it flowed. He bent and slipped between the attacks with an unnatural softness, his form becoming light, almost weightless. Kumadori's staff thrust passed by him, missing by a hair's breadth, while Blueno's air slash sliced through empty space.
He had dodged both attacks effortlessly.
For a split second, everything seemed to freeze.
Kumadori and Blueno's eyes widened, their mouths parting in shock and disbelief. Their movements halted, their expressions twisting into a mixture of horror and confusion as they processed what they had just witnessed.
Because Gojo… had used Paper Arts.
Both of them slowly turned their heads toward each other, their shock evident, before snapping their gazes back to Gojo.
"How?"
Gojo said, "Why are you both so surprised? Didn't I say earlier that if I fight you and give you enough pressure, then you will definitely use all your martial arts techniques? And you've done exactly that…"
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze calm yet sharp.
"I was—am—observing you perform all those techniques. Till now, you've used five techniques, right?" A faint smile appeared on his face. "I think I've mastered all of them."
Before either of them could respond—
Gojo vanished.
The ground beneath him cracked lightly from the sudden burst of speed, and in the next instant, he appeared right in front of Blueno. His finger was already inches away.
Then—
Thrust.
His finger drove into Blueno's shoulder with precision.
Blueno's body jerked, his eyes widening as pain shot through him. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as he staggered slightly, clutching his shoulder.
But what truly shook both Blueno and Kumadori wasn't the injury.
It was how Gojo had done it.
Shave… and Finger Pistol—used together, seamlessly.
Their eyes widened in horror.
Gojo, however, didn't follow up. He didn't press the advantage. Instead, he stepped back, retreating casually as if nothing significant had happened. His footsteps were slow, almost relaxed, as he moved away from them.
"How about it?" Gojo said, walking backward with an easy smile. "Do you still think I'm lying or something like that?"
A brief silence followed.
What could they even say in response?
They were certain—absolutely certain—they had all the information on Gojo. They knew very well that Gojo had never met anyone, nor had anyone who could have taught him the Six Powers. These techniques were exclusive, something only the Marines and World Government agents could use.
And yet—
Here he was.
Using them.
And worse… they could tell he wasn't lying.
Because although Gojo was using Shave, Finger Pistol, and Paper Arts, it was clear he didn't have complete mastery over them. There were slight imperfections—tiny delays, subtle inefficiencies.
But even that level of proficiency—
—was something that had taken them years to achieve.
And Gojo… had reached it just by fighting them. Just by observing.
A cold realization settled in.
By now, both Blueno and Kumadori knew they had fucked up.
A very low chance remained that they would be able to win against Gojo. They weren't ignorant of the fact that Gojo still hadn't used his Devil Fruit powers—not even once since both of them had started attacking him together.
He was fighting purely with his physical strength… and basic swordsmanship.
Not even his advanced techniques.
And that alone was the only reason they were still standing.
Otherwise—
They would have already been defeated.
----
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