Seeing Ryomen Sukuna, Lin Ge smiled and greeted him warmly, “You’re as lively as ever, Ghost King bro.”

Ryomen Sukuna sneered, clearly unwilling to engage. His crimson eyes rolled upward before he retreated smoothly from Itadori Yūji’s face.

From this seamless little sequence, Lin Ge could practically read three bold characters:

–So annoying.

Hahaha.

Ryomen Sukuna’s disdain was brutally clear.

Itadori Yūji, on the other hand, was a bit surprised.

This was the first time Ryomen Sukuna had disappeared so decisively. Usually, whenever he appeared, he wouldn’t leave without throwing in a few jabs or saying something infuriating.

It seemed he really didn’t like Lin Ge…

In the end, they decided to eat at a place called “Ueno Self-Service BBQ”, which was chosen by Itadori Yūji.

His reasoning? It was the closest to Jujutsu High, had decent reviews on food apps, and, most importantly… it was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

The pricing was reasonable too, with the basic set at 3,888 yen per person and the premium selection at 5,888 yen.

Gojo Satoru had no objections and casually pulled out his phone. He didn’t have any particular dietary restrictions—he just had a soft spot for desserts. “Alright, sounds good. Is this restaurant reservation-only? Yūji, I’ll transfer the money to you.”

Before he could finish, Lin Ge jumped in, “No need.” He held up his phone screen. “I already bought it.”

The bold words “Purchase Successful” were displayed clearly on the screen.

And he had bought the premium selection.

Of course! There was no way he was going to let himself appear as a broke nobody in front of Gojo Satoru.

As for why he felt this way… Lin Ge hadn’t figured it out yet.

Some questions didn’t need answers. Thinking too much could be exhausting.

Gojo Satoru raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

When did he manage to do that?

Such efficiency for something so random.

Gojo Satoru gave Lin Ge a skeptical glance. Surprisingly prideful.

The intel he’d received had indicated Lin Ge didn’t have much in savings. Could the report have been wrong?

Now that he thought about it, the report had been vague—so vague it didn’t even document Lin Ge’s “unique abilities.”

But for their financial assessment to also be off… wasn’t that a bit much?

Is this the quality of the intelligence network the Gojo family spends a fortune maintaining every year?

Maybe they’d gotten too comfortable. Or perhaps some parasites had snuck in while he wasn’t paying attention.

After all, Gojo Satoru didn’t like poring over those dense financial reports. He’d skim them at best before handing them off to the family’s long-serving financial managers.

While musing about cutting some of the intelligence group’s funding, Gojo Satoru stared intently at Lin Ge’s back, lost in thought.

What a strange guy.

His gaze was so intense that Lin Ge couldn’t even pretend not to notice. Turning halfway around, Lin Ge asked, “What’s up?”

Gojo Satoru shook his head and said, “Just reminded me of something.”

Lin Ge blinked in confusion.

Huh?

Before he could ask further, Itadori Yūji chimed in enthusiastically, “Oh, I know! It’s that saying, isn’t it?” He beamed brightly and continued, “A man paying the bill is the best cosmetic surgery.”

He nodded approvingly at Lin Ge and gave him a big thumbs-up. “Honestly, the way you paid just now was so cool!”

To him, Lin Ge was officially the coolest guy at the table.

Then he added, “Once I get my first paycheck, I’ll treat everyone to a meal too!”

Jujutsu sorcerers did get paid. Their salaries were based on rank and mission frequency, disbursed monthly.

Itadori Yūji wasn’t officially a sorcerer yet, but Gojo Satoru had secured a special allowance for him. Until his rank was determined, he would temporarily receive the salary of a Grade 4 sorcerer.

Lin Ge: “…”

Ouch.

That felt like an arrow to the knee.

No, it didn’t feel like a compliment at all!

Was this the natural charm of someone oblivious to their words’ impact?

What kind of mindset does it take to call this face “cool”?

“Ueno Self-Service BBQ – Restroom”

The sound of running water flowed from the automatic faucet.

Lin Ge scrubbed at a spot of sauce on his shirt while glancing in the mirror and slicking back his hair. He let out a sigh.

The stain was from an accidental spill during the BBQ earlier.

Ah, youth. So full of energy.

And after dinner, they were even planning to hit karaoke.

KTV…

Lin Ge was terrible at singing.

Despite the “Ge” (song) in his name, he was hopelessly tone-deaf. The only song he could sing on key was “Brother, Give Me a Hug.”

He wasn’t sure if this world even had his go-to song.

With that thought, he eagerly pulled out his phone and searched the music app.

Seconds later, a familiar intro played, and Lin Ge mentally fist-pumped with a resounding “YES!”

This was it!

Alright, time to show Little Cake what mysterious Eastern powers looked like!

Tonight’s BBQ had caught Lin Ge completely off guard.

They’d eaten together twice before, but back then, Gojo Satoru mostly watched him, barely touching his own food. Today, though, he’d devoured meat like it was water.

Even Itadori Yūji’s appetite couldn’t compare to Gojo Satoru’s, though he came close.

Lin Ge’s strange competitive streak kicked in again.

He and Itadori Yūji even had a mini contest over who could eat the most egg tarts in a minute. Lin Ge narrowly won by two tarts.

In the end, Fushiguro Megumi turned out to be the only one with a normal appetite.

A strange noise—sizzle, sizzle—suddenly echoed in the quiet restroom.

The unexpected sound snapped Lin Ge out of his thoughts. He blinked and instinctively looked up.

A golden crack appeared on the ceiling.

It had materialized so suddenly, and within seconds, it expanded into a glowing circular rift.

The entrance looked a lot like something the History Retrograding Army would use.

But Lin Ge’s instincts told him this wasn’t the case.

If not them…

A suspicion flickered in his mind, making his pupils contract slightly.

Under his tense yet expectant gaze, he heard a resounding THUD!

Two figures tumbled out of the glowing circle, landing directly on Lin Ge’s head.

Bullseye.

Lin Ge: “…”

Really?

Prior to this, at Honmaru No. 666

When Tsurumaru Kuninaga suggested going to find the missing Sage, Yamanbagiri Kunihiro hadn’t yet responded. But before he could, a snow-white dove with red eyes flew over to their shoulders.

As the dove shed its feathers, the snow turned into a folded letter before the bird vanished.

This was one of the methods the Government of the Time used to relay messages.

It was mostly used when the Sage wasn’t present at Honmaru.

After all, the Touken Danshi didn’t have any modern communication systems.

Recalling his previous report, Yamanbagiri Kunihiro quickly unfolded the letter.

Scanning it briefly, even his usually somber demeanor gave way to faint joy.

Seeing this, Tsurumaru Kuninaga curiously leaned in. “What does it say?”

“It’s coordinates.”

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro handed him the letter without hesitation, his usual gloom replaced by a vibrant glimmer in his green eyes.

It was the Sage’s location.

He’s safe.

“Ha?”

Tsurumaru Kuninaga was surprised.

Since when was the government this efficient?

But if it was an official letter, it meant the Sage was prepared for them to show up.

No chance to surprise him now.

Tsurumaru Kuninaga sighed in disappointment before a brilliant idea struck him. His mood brightened instantly.

The two didn’t inform their companions about their plans. Yamanbagiri Kunihiro assumed no one else would bother coming, and Tsurumaru Kuninaga… simply didn’t think about it.

In the front courtyard, flowers were in full bloom. A gentle breeze carried a crisp floral scent, soothing and refreshing.

“Tsurumaru-dono,” Yamanbagiri Kunihiro suddenly stopped.

“Hmm? What’s up?” Tsurumaru Kuninaga turned back.

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro’s gaze lingered briefly on a dark stain at the hem of Tsurumaru Kuninaga’s coat. Then, with a serious expression, he said, “…Please don’t scare him.”

The stain had already blackened.

Tsurumaru Kuninaga had existed in this Honmaru longer than Yamanbagiri Kunihiro. Their previous Sage had been malicious, enjoying the act of toying with others.

He would intentionally send inexperienced swords into battle, only to deny them treatment when they returned heavily injured. He’d wait until they were on the verge of shattering before swooping in like a savior.

Always coming up with new ways to torment them.

Under his management, the Honmaru’s blade-breakage rate had been unusually low—an ironic result of his cruelty.

Even after the government discovered his actions and punished him, the damage he’d caused couldn’t be undone.

Since then, this Honmaru had been regarded as a hopeless case.

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro had once thought it would never see a new Sage.

Yet, on one ordinary afternoon, the impossible had happened.

Tsurumaru Kuninaga tilted his head and licked his lips. His voice carried a hint of excitement: “Is that an order?”

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro shook his head. “It’s a request.”

He didn’t have the authority to command anyone.

He couldn’t even beat Tsurumaru Kuninaga in a fight.

Pressing a finger to his lips in mock contemplation, Tsurumaru Kuninaga smirked mischievously.

“Hmm… I’ll do my best.”