That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B! Chapter 482: A Kiss, a Date, and a Disaster (Patreon)

"It's strange for you to be so wary of a jujutsu sorcerer other than Satoru Gojo."

The quiet, echoing voice belonged to Hanami, the humanoid, plant-like curse. They sat in the corner booth of a brightly lit Shibuya CFC, the greasy scent of fried chicken and cheap salt hanging heavy in the air. To the mundane humans eating their meals just a few tables away, the booth appeared completely empty.

"What's so special about him?" Jogo asked, his single large eye narrowing. The miniature volcano on his head sputtered with a wisp of ash, leaking a palpable, suffocating killing intent. "Is he as strong as Gojo? If he's a threat, I'll just burn him to cinders."

"No, no. The strongest in pure combat is undoubtedly Gojo," the man with the stitched forehead replied, taking a casual sip of his iced cola. The plastic straw crinkled between his lips. "But this one is uniquely interesting. Unlike the traditional clans or the typical jujutsu sorcerers, he operates like a human capitalist. He thinks like a boardroom executive, not a sorcerer."

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Hanami asked.

"It's incredibly troublesome," Kenjaku sighed, rubbing his temples as if fighting off a migraine. Despite his exhausted tone, his dark eyes were cold, harboring a quiet, calculating malice. "Sorcerers are usually simple creatures. They receive a mission, they exorcise a curse, they collect their paycheck, they rest, and they repeat the cycle until they die. But Suzuki Zenin? He isn't playing the game. He's planning to buy the entire board and flip it over, forcing everyone to play by his rules. It severely disrupts our timeline. Having Gojo as an untamed variable is bad enough, but having this capitalist backing him as an ally makes it a nightmare."

Ally.

That was exactly how the jujutsu world viewed their dynamic, especially after Suzuki publicly sent a formal letter declaring the Zenin Clan's full support of Gojo's decision regarding Yuji Itadori.

Furthermore, Kenjaku still needed the corrupt, traditional Elders to maintain the current societal structure for his grand conspiracy. If Suzuki successfully stripped the Elders of their power and modernized the jujutsu world, Kenjaku's centuries of planning would be thrown into chaos.

"Then I will kill him," Jogo declared without a shred of hesitation, the heat around him spiking enough to make the plastic table warp slightly. "Where is he?"

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," Kenjaku smiled, nodding smoothly. "But my scouts say he is currently at the Gojo estate. Let's be patient. We will wait until the perfect time presents itself."

While the curses plotted his demise in a greasy fast-food joint, Suzuki was wrapping up his incredibly heavy conversation with Yuki.

The Special Grade sorcerer sat in a daze, her mind still reeling from the terrifying, apocalyptic logic he had just laid out before her.

"...Let me think it through," she finally murmured, her voice lacking its usual boisterous energy.

"Take your time," Suzuki replied easily.

"But!" Yuki suddenly snapped her head up, her eyes burning with renewed, stubborn determination. She leaned over the table, entirely uncaring as her chest pressed heavily against the glass. "I still want to be your wife! Don't you dare let anyone else take that spot before me!"

"..."

Suzuki just stared at her. Her grand, philosophical ideals had just been shattered, yet her immediate takeaway was securing a marriage certificate? Honestly, looking at her flushed cheeks and eager expression, he couldn't help but wonder if she had just given up on saving the world in favor of becoming the ultimate sugar baby.

She was older than him, sure, but there were no laws against a stunning, older woman living a life of absolute luxury on his dime, right?

Before he could process the thought any further, Yuki lunged across the space between them. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him in, and smashed her lips against his.

"..."

It was a rough, hungry kiss. Suzuki's senses were immediately flooded with the sharp, burning taste of aged brandy mixed with the sugary sweetness of the melon. Her lips were incredibly soft, radiating a flushed heat, and her signature floral perfume wrapped around him like a heavy blanket. She kissed him deeply, lingering just long enough to make his pulse spike, before pulling back with a highly satisfied smirk.

"You like beautiful women, right?" Yuki purred, licking her glossy lips. "Then you should be thrilled that your first kiss was stolen by a woman as gorgeous as me!"

With her bright blonde hair and overwhelming confidence, Suzuki half-expected her to strike a pose like Dio from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure.

"Can I have another?" she teased, her voice dropping into a sultry whisper.

Before he could answer, she leaned in, peppering his lips and jaw with several more soft, lingering kisses, leaving the faint scent of alcohol and perfume lingering on his skin. With a final, victorious giggle, she grabbed her bag and sauntered out of the living room, her hips swaying deliberately. She needed time to think about his brutal theories, but she was entirely satisfied with her parting gift.

As for when she would return? Who knew. Suzuki wasn't in any desperate rush. However, the intoxicating scent of her perfume and the lingering heat on his mouth had undeniably left him with a physical reaction.

He let out a long sigh, closed his eyes, and willed his blood pressure to return to normal.

"Has she left?"

Maki's voice broke the silence, cool and steady. She stepped into the room, her athletic frame relaxed, though her sharp eyes briefly scanned the space Yuki had just vacated.

"Are you finished with the legal department?" Suzuki asked, seamlessly pretending his heart wasn't beating slightly faster than usual.

"Yup." Maki nodded, crossing her arms. "Mei Mei was easy to handle."

Of course she was. As long as Suzuki possessed a bottomless bank account, Mei Mei would be the most loyal dog in the world. And Maki knew better than anyone that Suzuki had everything—except a shortage of cash.

"Let's go out. I'm bored sitting around here," Suzuki declared, standing up and stretching his arms. Even though he had been in Tokyo for a while, his routine had strictly consisted of bouncing between his office and the estate, balancing work and spending time with Maki.

Meanwhile, Maki had spent most of her time alone, rigorously training her Heavenly Restriction and mastering the nuances of her physical prowess.

"Okay," Maki agreed instantly. If he wanted to go out, she wasn't about to argue.

The two of them left the quiet estate and plunged into the bustling heart of Tokyo. They wandered through various districts, but eventually, Suzuki steered them toward the towering, metallic spire of the Tokyo Skytree.

"Why do you want to go to a tourist trap like this?" Maki asked, looking up at the massive structure with a raised eyebrow.

"Kyoto is nothing but ancient shrines and suffocating traditions. I'm bored of the old world. I want to see the tallest modern structure in Japan."

"That's a valid reason, I guess," Maki nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets. "I haven't been up there either."

"Really?" Suzuki looked at her in mild surprise.

"Unlike you, I'm broke," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Every yen I make goes straight into cheap weapons and hospital bills. I'm just lucky the school covers housing and food."

Being a jujutsu sorcerer was practically equivalent to being a glorified, supernatural police officer. The perks were decent, but the mortality rate and medical expenses were astronomical.

"Well, you have me now. Your wallet is the least of your worries," Suzuki smiled, reaching out to take her hand.

"Yeah..." Maki's stern expression melted into a soft, genuinely happy smile. She laced her fingers through his, giving his hand a firm squeeze.

"...Maki, don't hold on too tight. You're going to shatter my metacarpals."

She instantly loosened her grip, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. The sheer raw power of her Heavenly Restriction was no joke.

They spent the next few hours acting like a completely normal couple. They rode the elevator up to the observation deck, looking out over the sprawling, endless concrete ocean of Tokyo. They bought wildly overpriced, viral street food, eating without a single thought about calories. After all, with the grueling, superhuman physical training they both endured, burning off a few crepes and fried skewers was effortless.

"It's so high up..." Maki murmured, leaning against the thick reinforced glass, her green ponytail swaying gently as she stared down at the microscopic cars below.

Suzuki watched her, letting out a quiet, disappointed sigh. He had spotted a high-end kimono rental shop near the base of the tower and suggested they dress up, but she had vehemently refused. He couldn't help it. His imagination was running wild, picturing her athletic, toned body wrapped in a beautiful, traditional floral kimono. With her hair tied up, the delicate, smooth white skin of her nape would have been completely exposed—an incredibly charming contrast to her usual dangerous aura.

Sensing his gaze, Maki turned. Seeing the lingering disappointment on his face, her blush deepened. She looked away, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"When... when we get back home. Okay?" she mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.

Suzuki's face instantly lit up. He silently clenched his fist and raised it in a victorious pump.

"Let's just go home now!" Maki huffed, her face burning red as a few tourists gave them amused looks.

"Not yet," Suzuki chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Let's visit one more place."

Despite her grumbling, Maki was having the time of her life. Her days in Tokyo were usually agonizingly lonely, filled with nothing but the smell of sweat, blood, and cursed spirits. Leaving Mai behind in Kyoto had left a heavy, unresolved burden on her heart. In the original timeline, Maki had only found the strength to fulfill her promise after her sister's tragic death.

But now? She had someone she could lean on. Someone she truly loved.

When they eventually made their way down to Shibuya Crossing, the neon lights of the massive billboards painted the evening streets in vibrant, pulsing colors. Suzuki pulled his smartphone out, wrapping an arm securely around her waist, and snapped a quick selfie. In the photo, against the backdrop of a thousand rushing pedestrians, both of them were smiling brightly.

"Send that to me later," Maki smirked, looking at the screen. "I'm going to forward it to Mai. She'll be so jealous she might actually curse me to death."

"Try not to start a sibling war, okay?" Suzuki sighed, tapping the screen to send her the photo.

As the swoosh sound of the sent message played from his phone, the atmosphere in Shibuya instantly, violently shifted.

The cool evening air vanished, replaced by an oppressive, blistering wave of heat.

"AAAAAHHH! IT'S SO HOT!"

"FIRE! OH GOD, FIRE!"

"HELP ME! I'M BURNING!"

Screams erupted from the crossing. Pedestrians scrambled in absolute terror as a localized inferno spontaneously ignited, the asphalt bubbling and melting under the sheer, supernatural heat of a curse.

But Suzuki didn't look at the flames. He didn't look at the one-eyed, volcano-headed creature manifesting the fire.

Through the panicked, fleeing crowd, his dark eyes instantly locked onto a figure standing calmly near the edge of the intersection. A man in a traditional monk's robe, with a jagged, stitched scar running horizontally across his forehead.

Suzuki's expression went dead flat.

"Wait here for a second, Maki," he said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion.

"Hmm?" Maki blinked, confused.

Before she could even register his movement, Suzuki vanished.

He moved at a speed that utterly shattered the laws of physics, a localized sonic boom tearing the air apart in his wake. Kenjaku hadn't even registered the shift in the air pressure before Suzuki materialized directly in front of him.

The ancient conspirator barely had time to widen his eyes.

CRACK.

Suzuki drove his fist directly into Kenjaku's face with apocalyptic kinetic force.

"GUWEEEEEEEHHHH!!"

Kenjaku's jaw shattered instantly under the impact. The sheer momentum of the blow lifted him completely off the ground, launching his body backward like a human missile. He smashed through the reinforced glass of a department store, tore through three concrete support pillars, and disappeared into the suffocating cloud of dust and rubble on the far side of the building.

Standing amidst the sudden, deafening silence of the destruction, Jogo, Hanami, and Dagon could do absolutely nothing but stare in paralyzed, wide-eyed horror.