Inside the Jujutsu Higher-Ups' chamber.
The room was dim, filled with shadowy figures seated around a long table, their voices hushed yet heavy with authority.
"That brat Satoru Gojo's Cursed Technique has finally awakened. At this rate, it won't be long before he becomes the strongest sorcerer of his generation."
An old man's voice echoed faintly in the darkness.
Gojo's power was undeniable—but that power had already thrown the world's balance into chaos. Stronger Curses were appearing everywhere as a result.
And on top of that, Gojo's reputation among the higher-ups was terrible. Arrogant, insubordinate, loud—he was everything they hated.
A headache in human form.
"If it were up to me," one elder sneered, "I'd make sure Gojo and that other brat learn what happens when you defy orders. Tengen-sama's far too soft."
The others turned to him silently, their expressions flat. Their stares seemed to say, You do realize how ridiculous you sound, right?
"Ahem... what? Did I say something wrong?" the man muttered, face reddening but still insisting he was right.
"Enough. Let's end the Gojo discussion here," another voice said curtly. "What's done is done."
Silence followed, until someone changed the topic.
"The Zenin family's black sheep is back—and Naobito even got him appointed as a teacher at Jujutsu High. Thoughts?"
"Oh? You mean that tyrant?"
Clearly, even among the Higher-Ups, the legend of what had happened in the Zenin Clan years ago was well known.
"No Cursed Energy, yet strength on par with a Grade 1 Sorcerer... what a freak."
"A teacher at Jujutsu High, though? That's got to be a joke."
"Well, the Zenin Clan still holds some weight. Just think of it as charity—feeding another useless bum. It's not like Jujutsu High doesn't already have plenty of those."
They were referring, of course, to Special Grade Sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo—another powerful eccentric the Higher-Ups preferred to ignore.
One more freeloader wouldn't hurt.
At least the Zenin Clan would owe them a favor.
--
A year passed in a blink.
Summer arrived again.
Jinsuke spent nearly all of it training, occasionally checking in on his niece and nephew to make sure they were doing alright.
As for Jujutsu High? He hadn't stepped foot there even once.
Why bother, when the paycheck kept rolling in every month anyway?
During that year, though, he'd shown Toji something important—
the right way to use Heavenly Restriction.
"So that's why you're stronger than me, even though we both have Heavenly Restriction?"
Toji, drenched in sweat, stared at his brother in surprise.
He could feel something unfamiliar stirring inside him—a faint warmth spreading through his body.
He'd always relied purely on instinct and talent.
Physical power, resistance to Cursed Energy, heightened perception—he was born with it all.
Training? Never saw the need.
He'd spent his life refining his killing skills instead—speed, precision, efficiency.
"Not done yet. Focus your mind. Feel that flow and guide it here" Jinsuke tapped the side of his own head, "..left hemisphere."
He didn't want Toji wasting the Qi and Blood Power he'd just managed to refine.
Following Jinsuke's instructions, Toji steadied his breathing and channeled the energy as told.
For the first time, he truly felt it—the distinct, vibrant power that only someone with Heavenly Restriction could cultivate.
It was like a door opening.
Heavenly Restriction wasn't just a limitation.
It had its own kind of strength—one not inferior to Cursed Energy at all.
"You figured this out yourself?" Toji asked, impressed.
"Of course."
Jinsuke didn't even blink.
It was his golden cheat, after all—claiming he'd "discovered" it sounded perfectly reasonable.
"Keep training. Stop wasting time thinking about revenge against the Jujutsu World. You want to shut them up? Get stronger. That's all that matters."
Insults, mockery—none of that meant anything.
Power did.
"Who said anything about revenge?" Toji grumbled. "I don't care about any of that anymore."
He had two kids to look after now and a job to keep food on the table.
He barely had time to breathe, let alone hold grudges.
Maybe it was Jinsuke's influence, but Toji had stopped giving a damn about pride or status long ago.
Words couldn't define him. Strength could.
Who needed Cursed Energy anyway? His brother didn't have any either.
"Riiing—"
Jinsuke's phone buzzed.
"Yeah?"
"Moshi moshi~ recognize my voice?"
Yuki Tsukumo's lazy tone came through the line.
"Oh, it's you. Got the money ready?"
"Hey, that hurts, y'know? Is that all we ever talk about?"
"Oh? So the interest's paid up then?"
"..."
Yuki went silent.
"Anyway," she sighed, "Tokyo Jujutsu High. I'll be waiting."
Then—click.
She'd hung up, clearly pissed.
Jinsuke didn't care in the slightest.
Turning to Toji, he said, "Once you fill your first acupoint completely, I'll teach you what comes next."
He listed a few key reminders.
Training the Eight Inner Gates came with countless risks—get it wrong, and the backlash could destroy the body.
He wasn't sure how far Toji would make it, but he knew one thing: the further you went, the harder it got.
He'd spent a full year pushing himself and still hadn't fully opened the Fourth Gate.
Compared to using chakra like in the old stories, this was several times harder.
"You're heading to Jujutsu High?" Toji asked after memorizing the instructions.
He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but with senses as sharp as his, overhearing was unavoidable.
"Of course," Jinsuke said matter-of-factly. "I'm a special physical arts instructor at Jujutsu High. It's normal for me to show up once in a while."
"Huh?"
Toji blinked, dumbfounded.
"You? A teacher at Jujutsu High?"
"What's the problem?"
Jinsuke brushed off some dust and pulled on the black short-sleeved shirt the school had issued him. His muscles strained the fabric tight—it looked more like a threat than a uniform.
"Alright, I'm off."
He had money to collect—and if he showed up late, Yuki might bolt.
That same summer, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto officially rose to the rank of Special Grade Sorcerers.
Satoru, the strongest of the era.
After that, the two no longer worked as a pair. Each took on solo missions, their paths slowly diverging.
Inside Jujutsu High, Suguru Geto sat slumped on a bench, dark circles under his eyes.
The entire summer, he'd been exorcising and consuming Curses nonstop—day after day, like a machine programmed to protect humanity.
But were those people... really worth protecting?
He thought back on the year's missions—the ignorant civilians, the ugliness of human hearts—and felt something heavy twist in his chest.
Why am I even doing this?
Why protect them?
The taste of Curses sickened him.
"Haibara," he said suddenly, glancing at his junior beside him, "do you ever think... maybe we're not cut out to be sorcerers?"
"Hmm…" Yu Haibara pondered, resting his chin in his hand. Then he smiled brightly.
"I've never really thought about it. But as long as I'm doing what I can, it makes me happy."
"...I see."
That simple answer made Geto pause—and for a brief moment, the noise in his head went quiet.