At that moment, a snow-white stuffed rabbit appeared like a magic trick in Yaga Masamichi’s hand.

“A meeting gift,” he said.

The stuffed rabbit was exquisitely made, with long, soft fur and two ruby-like eyes inlaid on its face. Around its neck was a red lace collar, neatly tied with a silk ribbon, and a few snow-white pearls were attached to the ends.

It was weirdly girly.

Lin Ge, though he wasn’t sure why the principal wanted to give him a gift, had a simple life philosophy: if it’s given to me, I’ll take it. Without hesitation, he extended his hand confidently and accepted it.

“Thanks.”

He gently played with the rabbit’s long ears with his fingers.

The texture was great.

“This stuffed toy was handmade by Principal Yaga himself. Cute, isn’t it?” Gojo Satoru added from the side.

Lin Ge: “!”

His pupils quaked in shock.

For real?

A tough guy with a tender heart?!

Suddenly, the rabbit in his hand felt overwhelmingly heavy.

“Satoru, I’ve told you many times—it’s not a stuffed toy. It’s a Cursed Corpse,” Yaga Masamichi corrected, rubbing his temples as if nursing a headache. His tone was serious.

Don’t doubt his professionalism.

Lin Ge let out a surprised “Wow” and looked delighted. “The kind that moves?”

This wasn’t much different from having a pet!

And on top of that, this rabbit was so pretty and didn’t poop.

The principal’s technique was amazing. If he ever ventured into a business like companion pets, he’d make a fortune!

Yaga Masamichi nodded. “Once you inject cursed energy, it can move.”

Hearing that, Lin Ge suddenly felt a pang of disappointment. His excitement also cooled down a little. Still, he sincerely thanked Yaga Masamichi once again.

Sigh.

Whether it was cursed energy or spiritual energy, he had neither.

Maybe Little Cake had told the principal that he was a wild jujutsu sorcerer she found out in the field?

Made sense. Otherwise, how else could they explain why he was tagging along?

It seemed Yaga Masamichi was just here to greet him and give a gift. They only chatted briefly before his phone rang a few times.

After answering, Yaga Masamichi’s expression turned sour.

Lin Ge glanced at him and felt that the principal’s sheer frustration could probably punch a hole through the Earth.

Once the person on the other end of the line finished speaking and hung up, Yaga Masamichi excused himself, saying he had to attend a meeting.

He seemed extremely low-spirited.

Lin Ge felt an immediate sense of shared suffering.

Meetings, huh.

Nothing in the world is duller than a meeting.

It seemed even the principal had to grind for a living.

After Yaga Masamichi left, Gojo Satoru casually asked as they walked, “What does Principal Yaga smell like?”

Lin Ge shrugged, cautiously scanned their surroundings, and whispered, “Pineapple.”

Somehow, it didn’t seem like the most perfect answer.

Gojo Satoru paused for a moment. His lips twitched slightly, but he couldn’t hold back in the end. Meeting Lin Ge’s gaze, he burst out laughing.

“Hahahaha, pineapple?!”

He had imagined things like tempura or takoyaki, but pineapple was the last thing he expected Yaga Masamichi to smell like.

Picturing the principal’s reaction upon learning this, Gojo Satoru’s smile stretched wider than an AK rifle could suppress.

Would Yaga shave his head on the spot?

Lin Ge didn’t quite get what was so funny.

Still, seeing Gojo Satoru laugh so heartily, Lin Ge couldn’t help but tug at the corners of his mouth in a polite smile.

“Heh heh.”

A smile is a form of courtesy.

But right after smiling, he felt a familiar sensation by his face.

It was Gojo Satoru poking his cheek again.

Ever since doing it once, he seemed to have discovered a new, amusing toy.

The next second, Gojo Satoru said, “Your smile doesn’t feel genuine at all.”

Lin Ge: “…How is it not?”

Was this karma for that single bark of laughter earlier?

Little Cake really seemed to be treating him like a dog now.

Still, he didn’t feel upset. Since Gojo Satoru said his smile wasn’t sincere, he decided he wouldn’t smile anymore.

After all, when someone feeds you or gives you something, you can’t complain.

So Lin Ge stopped smiling and asked the question that was currently the most important to him.

“What are we eating tonight? My treat.”

He was starting to feel hungry.

He wanted to eat some “Atomic Breath”—wait, no, Cursed Technique.

But considering the long day they had, even though Gojo Satoru didn’t look tired at all, Lin Ge thought it was only polite to show some consideration.

Mutual understanding is the key to a long-lasting friendship!

“What do you want to eat? Normal food, or my technique?” Gojo Satoru asked, raising his tone meaningfully at the last two words.

Hearing that, a few scenes flashed uncontrollably through Lin Ge’s mind.

A flickering candle, the handsome white-haired man in a half-sheer shirt, his voice soft as he spoke:

“Dinner first, or… me first?”

Ahhh, so wrong!

His face instantly turned bright red.

He worked hard to suppress the strange images in his head, and feeling like a total pervert, he mumbled in a somewhat deflated tone, “Normal food. What’s around here?”

This place was so remote.

When they arrived earlier, there weren’t even street vendors selling breakfast.

There were some restaurants, but most were tiny hole-in-the-wall shops. The food was mostly noodles or simple rice bowls, none of which appealed to Lin Ge.

Meat—he craved meat.

If there were a buffet around, he’d teach the owner a lesson.

Gojo Satoru pulled out his phone. “I heard Yūji mention wanting to eat BBQ. I was planning to treat them tomorrow. Want to join us?”

BBQ?

Lin Ge immediately perked up. “Sure, sure!” But then he realized something odd. “Wait, why tomorrow?”

Gojo Satoru’s slender fingers tapped across the screen. After finishing his message, he answered with a lifted tone, “Oh, that’s because tomorrow morning, Yūji, Megumi, and I are going to the city to pick up the third first-year student.”

“It’s a girl,” he added.

Hearing the mention of a “third student,” Lin Ge sensed something off. Raising his hand like a student in class, he asked, “Sensei, I have a question.”

Gojo Satoru: “…”

Is this roleplay now?

Still, he straightened his posture, getting into character with interest. “Alright, student, go ahead.”

Lin Ge’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “What do you mean by ‘third student’?”

After a brief pause, Gojo Satoru replied, “Oh, I didn’t mention it before?”

Lin Ge shook his head.

Gojo Satoru held up three fingers. “It’s just as it sounds. Including the student we’re picking up tomorrow, there will be three first-years.”

Lin Ge: “!?!”

Was this real life?

He even started doubting his ears.

Wait.

Such a huge school… and only three students in one year?

When Lin Ge went to school, his class alone had at least 40 students.

This… this was beyond belief!

“Well, jujutsu sorcerers are rare,” Gojo Satoru said casually, waving at two teenagers approaching from a distance. “Megumi, Yūji~”

It turned out Gojo Satoru’s earlier texting was to call the kids down for dinner.

When the two got closer:

“Are we really having BBQ, Sensei?” Itadori Yūji asked excitedly, like he was in a dream.

Tokyo BBQ—would it be different from the town’s?

Would it be as tear-inducingly delicious as the pictures on Instagram?

Gojo Satoru flashed a cheeky smile. “Nope.”

“Huh?” The smile froze on Itadori Yūji’s face.

“Just kidding.”

Itadori Yūji immediately deflated.

Fushiguro Megumi facepalmed.

Here we go again.

Gojo Satoru’s awful sense of humor, randomly flipping his switch to annoying adult mode.

And Itadori always fell for it.

“But Lin Ge’s treating us, and I’ll cover the bill,” Gojo Satoru added, grinning.

Lin Ge, suddenly dragged into this: “…”

Wait a second.

Wasn’t I supposed to be the one treating?

This doesn’t feel right.

Does Little Cake think I’m broke?

The thought felt weird.

“Wow!” Itadori Yūji’s eyes lit up as his gloomy expression instantly vanished.

Then, bowing respectfully, he said, “Thank you so much!”

Just as he finished, a familiar finger flicked at his forehead.

“Stand up straight,” Gojo Satoru scolded, annoyed.

Itadori Yūji pouted. “Do you have to nitpick at everything?”

Possessive much?