Looking out over the cratered, utterly annihilated ruins of the Zenin estate, Naobito stared at the small back of his six-year-old adopted son.
His heart had never beaten so fast.
He wanted to violently retract every conservative, cautious assessment he had ever made about the boy. A feat that no Ten Shadows user in the history of the Zenin clan had ever accomplished—taming Mahoraga—had just occurred right in front of his eyes.
A profound wave of emotion welled up in Naobito's chest. It is truly a blessing to be born in this era. This is the era of Zenin Mirai!
Mirai had successfully subjugated Mahoraga and possessed a second, equally terrifying Shikigami to match. There was no longer any room for debate. The boy was unequivocally the strongest entity in the jujutsu world!
And the Zenin clan had bought the strongest sorcerer in history for a measly ten billion yen!
Naobito felt like the greatest businessman who had ever lived. Imagining the sour, regretful expressions of those pompous old fools in the Gojo clan when they inevitably learned of Mirai's true strength... Naobito couldn't contain himself. He threw his head back and laughed maniacally.
"Come to think of it, the Three Great Families' Exchange Event is in a few days, isn't it?" Naobito muttered, a feral grin spreading across his bruised face.
"He's going! He absolutely has to go! We're going to flex on them so hard!"
"Hahahahahahaha!!!"
Though he had no intention of keeping Mirai a secret forever, Naobito immediately issued a strict gag order to the entire Zenin clan. No one was to leak the details of the Mahoraga subjugation until the Exchange Event.
With a sweep of his torn sleeves, Naobito walked away looking ten years younger. He moved with the vigorous swagger of a dragon, utterly unbothered by the dust and debris of his ruined home.
Meanwhile, in Tokyo.
Sitting under the umbrella of an open-air cafe, a man with a distinct ring of stitches across his forehead was peacefully drinking tea and reading a newspaper, watching the world go by.
Suddenly, he set down his steaming cup of coffee. His placid expression froze.
He turned his head, looking off into the distance. To the eyes of a normal human, there was nothing but the dark night. But to the eyes of a master sorcerer, a beacon of cursed energy as bright as a miniature sun had just flared in the direction of the Zenin estate.
"Oh?" The mysterious man muttered to himself. "A commotion large enough to send shockwaves through the entire jujutsu world. It seems... another anomaly has been born."
He let out a soft, dismissive sneer.
"Well, the jujutsu world has always had a surplus of so-called 'geniuses' acting like carp trying to leap the dragon gate. Many 'Strongest' sorcerers have been born, but in the end, none can escape the rot of time. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."
He stood up, adjusting his collar. "Still, my plans are reaching a critical juncture. I'd rather not deal with another unpredictable variable like the Six Eyes. Just to be safe, I should go take a look."
As the words left his lips, the stitched man vanished from his seat, leaving no trace behind in the crowded street.
"Sir, your change... wait, where did he go?" The waitress, dressed in a black skirt and blue-and-white striped apron, stared at the steaming coffee with a bewildered expression.
Back at the Zenin Estate.
Inside an obscenely large, gold-and-jade inlaid luxury bathroom, Mirai was having his hair gently washed by Takayanagi Mieko.
Scrub, scrub, scrub!
"Honestly, Mirai-sama~" Mieko chided softly. "How can the young master of the clan come to the dinner table covered in so much dirt and blood? If you don't develop good hygiene habits now, no girls will like you when you grow up~"
"Hmph." Mirai tilted his arrogant little head up, his face painted with absolute disdain. "I don't care about being liked by those filthy, insignificant female monkeys. They cake their faces in cheap rouge and powder to hide their mediocrity."
He closed his eyes, leaning back into her hands. "None of them can compare to a single strand of Auntie Mieko's hair."
Because Mieko's innate Heavenly Restriction granted her a perpetually flawless, ageless beauty, Mirai's words weren't an exaggeration—they were an objective truth.
"My, my, Mirai-sama~"
Mieko was already well-accustomed to Mirai's shockingly sophisticated vocabulary and blatant arrogance, but this time, she didn't playfully rebuke him. Instead, a bittersweet smile touched her lips.
She raised her delicate hand, gently caressing his temples as if holding the most precious treasure in the world.
Eternal youth... Sometimes, she wished she didn't have it.
I was born long before you came into this world. You will grow old, but I am destined to remain exactly as I am...
Two and a half days later. Early morning.
At the main gates of the Zenin estate, a long, luxurious black sedan idled quietly.
Mirai, securely carried in Mieko's arms, rubbed his sleepy eyes and grumbled impatiently. "What kind of stupid Exchange Event requires us to wake up before the sun is even out? I'm not going!"
Hearing her young master's decree, Mieko—who operated entirely on the principle that Mirai's comfort was the only law that mattered—immediately turned on her heel to carry him back to bed.
"Wait! Don't! Don't go back!"
Naobito rushed forward, waving his arms frantically to block their path. "Mirai, this is the annual Exchange Banquet for the Three Great Families! The brightest talents from the Zenin, Gojo, and Kamo clans—as well as notable outsiders—will be there to exchange jujutsu theories! It's a vital opportunity to broaden your horizons and recruit retainers!"
Mirai yawned loudly. On his left and right, the faint, illusory outlines of Mahoraga and Jedora flickered in the morning light.
"Do you want to repeat that to them?" Mirai sneered, gesturing to his immortal Shikigami. "Does a literal god like me look like someone who needs to 'network'? Give me one good reason to go."
Naobito wiped cold sweat from his forehead. "Gojo Satoru will be making his debut! The Six Eyes!"
"Boring. He has Six Eyes, I have Six Eyes. Big deal." Mirai waved a dismissive hand. "Auntie Mieko, back to bed."
"Wait!" Desperate, Naobito played his absolute trump card. "Yukino Mafuyu will be there!"
"Oh?!"
Mirai's sleepy eyes snapped open, suddenly brimming with life.
Mafuyu—his birth mother. Because of her delicate constitution and worsening illness following the traumatic birth of the twins, she rarely ever participated in public, high-profile events.
In Mirai's mind, he possessed a very strict, personal metric for evaluating the women of the jujutsu world. He rated them using a unit of measurement he called "Sukuna's Fingers." If Auntie Mieko was the absolute benchmark—a perfect 20 Fingers—then Mafuyu easily scored an 18.
The reason she lost two fingers wasn't because her face was lacking. Frankly, in terms of pure facial aesthetics, Mafuyu was even more ethereal than Mieko; she possessed a fragile, otherworldly beauty that didn't even seem human. But Mieko's flawless devotion and voluptuous perfection gave her the absolute edge.
Still... an 18-Finger rating was astronomically high.
To put it into perspective, Mirai had mentally evaluated every single named female character he could remember from the original anime. Aside from Mieko and Mafuyu, almost no one else broke the 15-Finger threshold.
His mental tier list was ruthlessly precise:
Zenin Maki: 12 Fingers.
Zenin Mai: 12 Fingers.
Iori Utahime: 12 Fingers.
Ieiri Shoko (Adult): 12 Fingers.
Kugisaki Nobara: 12 Fingers.
Tsukumo Yuki: 13 Fingers.
Mei Mei: 14 Fingers.
Ieiri Shoko (Jujutsu High Era): 15 Fingers.
Hoshi Kirara: 15 Fingers. (Wait, is Kirara a guy? Doesn't matter. 15 Fingers.)
Yoshino Nagi: 15 Fingers.
In Mirai's absolute ranking system:
12 Fingers was a passing grade.
15 Fingers was excellent.
18 Fingers was transcendent.
20 Fingers was absolute, undisputed perfection.
A/N: For this week, every 100 Powerstones will get ya'll an extra chapter! Thank you!