A Face-Changing Pro

No way… no way?

Even Cursed Spirits are surfing the web at lightning speed now?

Before Lin Ge could say anything, Jogo kept explaining: “Honestly, I’m not even that close with the guy.”

Like Mahito said, before the black-haired dude reached out, other Curse Users had sent Jogo team-up invites too.

But those guys were either too weak or too full of themselves.

Treating him like an idiot to scam.

Barely a few words in, they’d try to con Jogo into leading the Cursed Spirits as the frontline cannon fodder, sounding the charge against the Jujutsu world.

Yeah, right.

If the four of them Special Grade Cursed Spirits combined could wipe out the Jujutsu world, would they even need to team up with these losers?

Those wannabe Curse Users? Jogo roasted every single one.

Easy peasy.

Just a bunch of boring, laughable clowns.

Compared to them, the former Special Grade Sorcerer waiting outside the barrier stood out like a crane among chickens, pretty much winning Jogo’s heart.

But next to the mighty Nidie, that guy’s usefulness was kinda… optional.

Recalling the detailed plan the Curse User had once shared, Jogo curled his lip.

All schemes and tricks were just showing off in front of raw power.

Jogo had mad faith in the new Special Grade.

One look, and it was love for a lifetime.

With that in mind, he was ready to burn the bridge before even crossing it, saying bluntly: “If you don’t like this guy, I can just kill him.”

His tone was as casual as asking what’s for lunch.

Lin Ge: “?”

One second they’re planning to team up, and now he’s ready to off the guy?

…Little volcano’s a face-changing pro!

“How do you wanna kill him? Roast him? Feed him to the fish? Or turn him into flower fertilizer?” Not noticing the shift in Jogo’s eyes, Jogo got all hyped, getting more excited the more he talked.

Diving into his expertise, his whole Cursed Spirit vibe lit up, his energy levels doubling.

Jogo grinned, baring his teeth: “Oh, and if you want Mahito to join, I can team up with him. His stuff’s a bit more… twisted, so it’d be more entertaining to watch…”

After all, Mahito was freshly born, with next to no combat experience, and his overall strength might not match a Special Grade Curse User.

No biggie—if Nidie wanted Mahito in, Jogo was cool playing support.

Fighting’s no shame.

Perfect chance to flex their skills for Nidie.

—

Hearing his name, Mahito, who was refilling tea, perked up his ears.

He whipped his head around, all smiles, volunteering: “What’s that? A fight? Pick me, pick me!”

Mahito zipped right up to Lin Ge, his mismatched eyes brimming with fiery eagerness.

“Nidie, what do you want to turn him into? A talking gold coin? Or a portable little figurine?”

“A talking gold coin might be a tad tricky—I haven’t tried it yet—but… a figurine? I tested that out when I was messing around the other day!”

He reached into his throat, digging around, and spat out two grayish-brown clay-like things, beaming with pride like he was waiting for praise: “Cute, right? These two humans kept yapping during a movie, annoying me so bad… Turning them into this shut them right up!”

Pretty genius, huh?

Praise me, quick, praise me!

He couldn’t hold back anymore.

He was the one who introduced Nidie to everyone, but Nidie kept chatting with Jogo, praising Jogo for being smart and awesome and whatever.

Mahito couldn’t figure out what he did wrong.

Maybe it was the heat of the moment, but the blueberry-yam scent on him got even stronger. Lin Ge held his breath, forcing a tiny smile: “…Wow, Mahito, you’re really something.”

Did he have to pull stuff outta his mouth?

Blueberry yam’s got some weird quirks.

Hearing the Cursed Spirits casually toss around talk of human lives, Lin Ge felt a chill crawl up his spine, spreading through his whole body.

If he couldn’t slip away later…

Lin Ge clenched his fists.

He’d be done for.

Ignoring Mahito’s clumsy show-off attempt, Jogo’s eyes gleamed with excitement: “So, we killing him or what?!”

He was weirdly fired up!

Come on, let Nidie see his and Mahito’s epic combo move!

Mahito stuck out his tongue, elbowing the hyped-up Jogo: “Jogo, you violence freak~”

Why’s it gotta be killing? Turning him into a little weapon to toss out and go boom when you need it would be way better.

Jogo: “…”

Do I have to slap you when I’m at my happiest?

—

Tokyo Jujutsu High School.

First-year classroom.

It’s foreign language class, taught by some outsider hire. Super boring.

Forty minutes per class, and more than half was spent bragging about her daughter studying abroad and her high-flying exec husband at a state-owned company. The rest? Ten minutes for actual teaching, ten for them to do worksheets on their own.

Yuji Itadori wiggled his fingers at Megumi Fushiguro.

Megumi looked confused, mouthing: What’re you doing?

Yuji didn’t say a word, just wiggled his fingers again, his face screaming I’ve got big news.

Megumi: “…”

Glancing at the teacher fiddling with her phone at the podium, he tilted his head left.

Lowering his voice, Yuji whispered: “Did you see Gojo sensei’s outfit today?”

Man, it nearly blinded him.

Better looking than the male celebs on magazine covers.

He’d tried signaling Nobara Kugisaki too, but she was sneaking a peek at a makeup mag under her desk, totally ignoring him.

Megumi: “.”

That’s it?

Sighing internally, he whispered back: “Nope.”

Gojo sensei rarely switched up his style, usually rocking the Jujutsu High uniform. Nothing new there.

Then he added: “Stop leaning so close…”

Your head’s practically in my lap…

Not scared of the foreign language teacher at all?

Missing Megumi’s subtle warning, Yuji’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide, bursting to share: “You didn’t see? Such a shame… I’m telling you, he looked so cool today…”

“Itadori.”

The foreign language teacher nailed Yuji’s forehead with a chalk stub.

She’d put her phone away at some point, radiating low-key rage: “Finished your worksheet already? Or do you have some unique insights for this class? Why don’t you teach it?”

Clutching his head, Yuji flashed an awkward grin: “Sensei, not yet!”

Sighing, Megumi facepalmed.

Told you, caught red-handed.

No clue what Gojo sensei wore today to make Yuji so obsessed he had to share during class.

—

The Gojo sensei who’d wowed Yuji was chilling on the field, sitting side-by-side with Masamichi Yaga, soaking up the sun.

Masamichi Yaga kept sneaking glances at Gojo Satoru.

So… so shiny!

“Satoru.”

He couldn’t hold back.

Gojo Satoru curved his eyes, in a great mood: “Hm?”

Masamichi Yaga: “…”

Not normal.

Definitely not normal.

After a long pause, he tested the waters: “You’re… looking sharp today.”

Gojo Satoru hummed, brushing aside his bangs: “Doesn’t it make me look super young?”

He’d actually put in some effort to spruce himself up.

Guess it wasn’t for nothing.

Masamichi Yaga: “…”

Your babyface would look youthful even in a sack.

But that’s not what he meant.

Forget it, no point beating around the bush. Just ask.

Masamichi Yaga, face all tangled, said: “So, you’re dressed like this… for a blind date or something?”

Yeah, Satoru’s about that age, right?

But him agreeing to a family-arranged blind date? And dressing up for it?

Masamichi Yaga found Gojo Satoru scarily unfamiliar.

What happened to “men stay boys forever”?

Gojo Satoru blinked, confused: “What’re you talking about, Yaga?”

So weird.

Today he was wearing a black crew-neck tee with a white casual jacket, sleeves rolled up loosely to show off his pale, smooth skin and wrist bones.

The outfit itself wasn’t that fancy, but he’d added a trendy double-layer metal chain necklace—super popular with the youth—and even swapped his black sunglasses for ones with hollowed-out gold-rimmed temples.

Masamichi Yaga slung an arm around him, teasing: “Still playing dumb.”

He felt a bit reluctant inside.

Time flies, huh.

Gojo Satoru, puzzled: “…You get plastered last night or something?”

He pulled a mock-disgusted face.

“Middle-aged guys who drink too much get side-eyed, you know.”

Masamichi Yaga: “.”

Still pretending, huh!

He chuckled, grabbing Gojo Satoru’s left hand. The pricey wristwatch gleamed with the scent of money, sparkling under the sun: “Satoru, you’re even rocking a Rolex.”

Come on, we go way back—I know you.

Normally, you’d find a hair tie too annoying, let alone a Rolex.

Letting go, Masamichi Yaga zipped his lips with a gesture, signaling he’d keep it hush-hush: “Spill it quietly. I won’t blab.”

Gojo Satoru: “…”

Gojo Satoru was kinda speechless: “There’s really nothing.”

“Why would you even think that?”

He shoved Masamichi Yaga off, and the next second, his phone pinged with a new message, his lips curving up again: “Oh, I’ve got plans today. If the Supervisory Department has any urgent issues this afternoon and you really can’t handle it, then pass it to me.”

With that, he stood up smoothly, waving over his shoulder at Masamichi Yaga: “Catch ya later.”

Even his back radiated a bouncy vibe.

Masamichi Yaga: “…”

You totally fooled me.

But Satoru wasn’t one to lie—if he said there’s nothing, there’s nothing.

So who’s he all dolled up to meet?

Masamichi Yaga racked his brain, running through everyone they both knew, but couldn’t think of anyone worth Gojo Satoru dressing to the nines with a Rolex for.

Could it be…

Someone he didn’t even know?

Masamichi Yaga suddenly felt a twinge of worry.

He covered his face.

What’s going on?

It’s like… like the prized cabbage he’d painstakingly raised was about to run off with some yellow-haired punk on a motorcycle.

He shook his head fast.

Terrifying!

That mental image was way too terrifying!

—

After leaving the field, Gojo Satoru finally pulled his phone out.

Casually unlocking the screen and opening the app, he saw two little red dots next to Lin Ge’s chat.

Without clicking in, the preview only showed the latest message.

“AA Desert Lone Wolf: 【Location Info】”

Location?

Gojo Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle.

Is he asking me to come find him? Or is he already near Jujutsu High?

With a tap of his thumb, the screen jumped to their chat.

The second he saw the photo above the location message, he froze like a log, his mind blank.

The smile on his lips stiffened, his heart pounding hard.

Letting out a short breath, Gojo Satoru stared at the picture, even zooming in with his fingers, stubbornly looking for any sign the photo was fake.

—

Yellow-haired Ge, all worried, stood inside the barrier.

He had no clue who this Curse User outside was. After sending Gojo Satoru the photo, he found a moment to forward the location info too, figuring with the guy’s smarts, he’d connect the dots and rally Jujutsu Sorcerers to sweep the place ASAP.

Lin Ge was kinda torn.

He wanted backup, but also didn’t.

He was scared Strawberry Shortcake might get hurt in the fight.

To buy time for help to arrive, Lin Ge pretended to talk Jogo out of killing anyone for now, tricking him into going out to deal with the Curse User.

Saying stuff like, “Why not hear what kinda plan the Curse User has? If it’s good, we can yoink it and then kill him.”

Jogo thought it made sense, hesitated a few seconds, and agreed.

So, he headed out alone, leaving Lin Ge and Mahito to eavesdrop from inside the barrier.

Hanami was sipping tea, and Dagon was backstroking—neither cared one bit.

Lin Ge thought they were like those low-level workers who didn’t get a say in big decisions, just doing the grunt work.

Something poked his leg.

Looking down, it was Mahito.

“What’re you thinking about?” Mahito squatted on the ground. Seeing he’d nabbed Lin Ge’s attention, he started pulling the hair ties off his head one by one, his blue hair spilling over his back.

Tilting his head up, he offered the ties: “Can you tie hair?”

Lin Ge shook his head firmly: “Nope.”

Even if he could, he wouldn’t admit it.

Mahito looked disappointed but perked up: “Then I’ll teach you.”

Lin Ge: “…”

I! Don’t! Wanna! Learn!

Seeing Lin Ge not respond, Mahito took it as a yes, grabbing a small strand of hair and demonstrating: “Like this… then like that…”

His fingers were nimble, weaving through the strands with ease, and soon his hair was back to normal.

“Got it?” Mahito asked.

“Nope.”

Mahito wasn’t thrilled.

But then, realizing Nidie couldn’t do something he could, he grinned: “I’ll show you again.”

He let his hair down once more.

Lin Ge thought he was bored outta his mind.

—

Outside the barrier, Jogo’s voice mixed with the Curse User’s.

Lin Ge focused to listen.

The Curse User’s voice was nice—gentle and refined, like he had a great temper. He greeted Jogo with a smile: “Just you, Jogo?”

Jogo’s lips turned down, looking like the Curse User owed him eight million: “What, that a problem? Should I roll out a red carpet and line up a welcome team for you?”

His tone was pure gunpowder.

Hands itching to roast someone.

How could that stirred-up killing intent just vanish?

The Curse User’s smile faltered.

He mentally cursed Jogo as a dead Cursed Spirit twice, then steadied himself: “Why so fired up? Someone piss you off?”

Pissing me off, huh? You’re done! Done!

Just a Cursed Spirit, daring to talk to me like that…

Once I’m done using you, I’ll end! You!!

End you!!!

Mark my words!

Jogo snorted, holding out his hand: “Cut the crap, Geto. Didn’t you say you’d bring a plan today to convince me? Hand it over.”

Gimme.

Kensaku: “…”

I owe you or something?

He gritted his back teeth.

Hold it…

Clashing with Jogo right now would be dumb.

His big plan wasn’t done yet—he had to hold it…

This new body he’d taken was really useful, and he didn’t want to wreck it unless he had to.

After a pause, Kensaku softened his tone: “Jogo, you…”

Mid-sentence, a hand landed on his right shoulder.

Light, but heavy.

It pinned him in place.

“Hey.”

The voice he least wanted to hear rang in his ear.

Stiff as a board, he turned his head and met the sky-blue eyes of the strongest of this era.

No, no way?

“What are you?”

To Kensaku, it sounded like a call from hell itself.