See You Tomorrow

“The incident occurred around two in the morning, presumed to be a Level 2 cursed spirit.”

“Three fatalities, one injured—all guests staying that day. Based on the autopsy, the victims’ times of death were…”

Kiyotaka Ijichi  hung his head, reciting the report mechanically, his glasses reflecting a cold glint.

“This is the guest information provided: Miyagi Hasegawa, 31, male. Nozomu Iwata, 26…”

He listed the victims one by one, calm on the surface but internally freaking out.

Arghhh!

A twisted, shadowy scream echoed in his mind.

This is bad.

Really bad!

A cursed spirit incident right near  Jujutsu High School?

It’s like a blatant slap in the face to the school!

He nervously glanced at the man standing in front of him, shivering under the icy aura radiating from him.

Mr.  Gojo  looks really upset!

So rare.

The guy who’s always grinning suddenly turning this serious…

That killer contrast is deadly.

I wanna run, I wanna run!

For the 10,086th time, he regretted getting tangled up with the jujutsu world.

“That’s all the victims from this incident.”

Closing the folder,  Kiyotaka Ijichi  pursed his lips, his toes curling nervously in his shoes.

After what felt like forever…

“That’s it?”

Kiyotaka Ijichi  jolted. “…Yes.”

So fragile.

I feel like a piece of seaweed.

Any trouble could crush me.

“What about missing persons?”  Gojo Satoru  turned around.

He wasn’t wearing anything to cover his eyes, his  Six Eyes  feeding information to his brain unfiltered.

As he spoke, his lips flattened, not a trace of a smile.

“The investigation report didn’t mention any.”  Kiyotaka Ijichi  swallowed hard. “But there was a witness who said they saw a bright pillar of light briefly appear… Here’s the photo.”

He handed his phone to  Gojo Satoru.

In the pitch-black night sky, a golden pillar stood out of nowhere, like it connected heaven and earth. The photo was blurry—probably because the person taking it was shaking with excitement.

Silently staring at the image for five or six seconds,  Gojo Satoru  returned the phone to the assistant supervisor. “Send it to me.”

With that, he stepped into the wrecked lobby of the homestay, crouching down and thoughtfully picking up a piece of black flesh.

When a cursed spirit is exorcised, it typically dissolves into nothing.

This one was an exception…

It “died” gruesomely, its body shredded into countless near-uniform chunks, its blood mixing with dirt and starting to congeal.

The three victims died at different times.

But there was a pattern—every half hour, one person died. The survivor was both a witness and the lucky one who made it.

He was terrified, rambling incoherently. It took dozens of minutes of counseling to get him calm enough to give a shaky statement.

—

According to the survivor, at ten past two, he checked in a skinny guy.

The guy said some weird stuff, but he thought it was a prank and brushed it off.

Then the monster—aka the cursed spirit—showed up.

The next second, from the entrance to where the guy stood, it was like someone blasted the place with a rocket launcher. The floor tiles were ripped up, and the cursed spirit was instantly torn into countless pieces.

Gojo Satoru  lowered his lashes, long and thick white eyelashes casting shadows on his face.

His  Six Eyes  couldn’t pick up any residual traces.

It was like this was just some ordinary brawl.

But the scattered chunks of flesh and splattered purple blood told a different story.

Some blood had hit the ceiling, some stained the beige walls, now dried. It wasn’t hard to imagine how horrific the scene had been.

His eyes darkened.

If it was  Lin Ge… he’d probably swallow it whole.

Wouldn’t make such a mess.

Was it those two guys with swords?

Impressive destructive power.

The question is…

Where were they now?

“Mr.  Gojo, did you find something?”  Kiyotaka Ijichi  jogged up, grimacing for a moment at the cursed spirit’s remains.

Talk about R-rated.

He’d been an assistant supervisor for years and thought his mental fortitude was solid.

But this was pushing his limits.

Noticing  Gojo Satoru’s  hand was stained from touching the flesh, he quickly offered a tissue.

“Thanks.”

Getting no useful info,  Gojo Satoru  thanked him absently, wiping his hand halfheartedly. He pulled his usual blindfold from his pocket and tied it on with practiced ease.

Turning his head, he said, “Nothing much.  Ijichi, have the others come clean this up and send the cursed spirit’s ‘body’ to  Shoko.”

“Ms.  Ieiri?”  Kiyotaka Ijichi’s  face flushed instantly.

The grossed-out feeling vanished, replaced by pure joy at the thought of seeing his crush soon.

Last time was two days ago.

“Problem?”

“No! No problem! Absolutely none!”  Kiyotaka Ijichi  practically thumped his chest in assurance.

He’d deliver it safely, no question!

On his honor!

“Oh, right, Mr.  Gojo, one more thing… These gold nuggets were found by the investigators while combing the scene. Since there’s no cursed energy residue, we’re guessing they’re just regular gold…”

Kiyotaka Ijichi  pulled out a small cloth bag like a magic trick, respectfully handing it to the moody  Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer.

“Gold?”

Loosening the bag’s drawstring,  Gojo Satoru  looked thoughtful.

A moment later, he asked, “What about the shop’s security footage?”

“Well… the attack was so intense that the cameras broke the moment the cursed spirit was exorcised.”

—

Honmaru No. 666

After a dizzying whirl, familiar scenery appeared.

Lin Ge’s  face was pale, and he stuck out his tongue in agony.

Wanna puke!

If  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  hadn’t been holding him up, he’d probably have collapsed and bowed to the ground.

It felt like plunging into an icy river, getting fished out, and then running a fever for three days and nights.

His limbs ached, his head spun, and he was seeing double.

The teleportation effect was cool as heck.

But maybe because he was too weak, it always left him miserable for a bit.

This teleport was way too rough.

Lin Ge  felt like he needed to file a complaint with the government.

Zero stars, zero stars!

Compared to Strawberry Shortcake, it was night and day.

“Hold on, I’ll take you to the repair room.” Supporting his arm,  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  looked worried.

The repair room was originally just for healing  tsukumogami, but after new government rules required  Saniwa  to join missions and risk injury, they added a treatment pod for  Saniwa.

500 coins a pop, claiming it could reattach a severed arm good as new—part of the government’s employee benefits.

Lin Ge  zoned out for a moment, mumbling, “Repair room?”

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  explained, “Basically a treatment room.”

Lin Ge  pointed at himself skeptically.

Treatment?

For me?

I’m not hurt!

Tsurumaru Kuninaga  was still sulking over his lost gold nuggets, strolling idly to the side. He snorted, “If you don’t go soon, you can kiss that arm goodbye.”

Even if it could be fixed, the corruption process would hurt, right?

Catching his drift,  Lin Ge  glanced blankly at his right hand.

Whoa, painless tanning.

And black nail polish to boot.

Lifting his hand to sniff,  Lin Ge  looked baffled.

Why did his hand smell like tomatoes?

Did black nails spread like a virus?!

—

Seeing  Lin Ge  freeze, worried the resentment would cause worse effects,  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  didn’t want to waste time. “Please come with—”

Before he could finish, he was startled by the  Saniwa’s  actions, his expression shifting dramatically as he rushed to stop him.

“What are you doing?!”

The  Saniwa  had lost it, licking his resentment-tainted hand like it was some gourmet treat.

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  couldn’t even wrestle it away.

Why’s he always eating random stuff?!

Devouring  Retrograde Troops  was one thing, but now himself?

Had the resentment already invaded the  Saniwa’s  brain?!

—

Total chaos.

Tsurumaru Kuninaga’s  jaw dropped, stunned.

Was there something wrong with the  Saniwa’s  head?

It hit him late.

Had he been pranking a disabled person?

Not cool.

Tsurumaru Kuninaga  felt a pang in his nonexistent conscience.

At this rate, the  Saniwa  could off himself without any help.

—

Knowing the golden angel was worried, seeing him insist on dragging him to the repair room,  Lin Ge  quickly showed him his hand.

Spotting the glistening saliva left on it, he felt a bit guilty, wiping it on his clothes a few times before saying, “No need for treatment! Really.”

He bounced in place three times to prove he was perfectly fine.

“Actually… I’ve got a special way of exorcising stuff.”

These tomatoes were delicious!

Such a shame there wasn’t more—he barely got a taste before it was gone.

Sigh.

What a waste!

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro: “…”

Huh?

He looked over skeptically.

But he only saw the half-blackened arm, after being licked clean by the  Saniwa, actually return to normal.

His face went blank, brain struggling to process the scene. “How did you do that…”

Was it an illusion?

Or the  Saniwa’s  special ability?

So, so impressive.

Wait.

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  clenched his teeth.

Did he mess up?

Recalling how he’d teleported them back without asking, and how  Tsurumaru  had caused a huge scene,  Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  panicked internally.

“That’s not important right now—it’s a long story. I’ll make a PPT to explain it later when I’ve got time.”  Lin Ge  scratched his head, brushing it off. He glanced around, testing the waters. “Uh, can you send me back first?”

Sigh… this was partly his fault for not checking with his team beforehand.

But he’d promised Strawberry Shortcake he’d see him tomorrow.

So awkward.

The goodwill he’d built up—would it reset to zero over one broken promise?

Though Strawberry Shortcake probably wasn’t that type…

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro  was silent for a moment.

Avoiding the  Saniwa’s  hopeful gaze, he lowered his head, voice barely a whisper. “Sorry…”

“Not possible right now.”

Lin Ge  tilted his head. “Huh?”

Why not?

“There’s a cooldown on teleportation.”

It was  Tsurumaru Kuninaga’s  voice.

He looked at  Lin Ge  with what could only be called pity. “It needs time to recharge—usually 48 hours.”

He’d been thinking wrong before.

Why hold a grudge against someone disabled?

Lin Ge  got chills. “…Your eyes are super weird.”

Like he was looking at an idiot.

Tsurumaru Kuninaga  didn’t speak, his pitying gaze paired with his overly saintly face making  Lin Ge  feel like he was about to be purified. Goosebumps erupted all over him.