Chapter 49 (Patreon)

April 2017.

Five months had passed since Yuta Okkotsu and Rika Orimoto enrolled at Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Thanks to her overwhelming strength and extraordinary cursed energy, Rika passed her evaluation without any trouble and was promoted straight to Grade 1 sorcerer.

Compared to her, Yuta’s results were a little less eye-catching.

Even though he had worked just as hard, his own cursed energy reserves were nowhere near Rika’s level, so he was ultimately ranked Semi-Grade 1.

For most people, that would already be an incredible result.

But Yuta himself was still not satisfied.

Ragnar Kagenou patted him on the shoulder.

“I told you to stop messing around with katanas. See? You ended up weaker than Rika.”

Yuta scratched his cheek helplessly. “Does that really have anything to do with me using a katana?”

Ragnar opened the Gate of Babylon and pulled out a gleaming weapon.

“Of course it does.”

Yuta stared at the thing in Ragnar’s hand. “What even is that?”

Ragnar threw two practice punches into the air, looking completely serious.

“Ditch that cheap katana already. Use punch daggers instead. Land three clean hits and your teacher’s whole sword fantasy shatters on the spot.”

Yuta went quiet for a second, then gave him a tired look.

“…No thanks, Ragnar. I’m sticking with the katana.”

Ragnar clicked his tongue, then glanced toward Gojo.

“By the way, Gojo. I heard you found Toji Fushiguro’s son. Megumi Fushiguro, right?”

Gojo turned his head, suddenly interested.

“Yeah. Why? Don’t tell me you’re trying to steal my student.”

He immediately pointed a finger at Ragnar in mock accusation.

“No chance. You already took Yuta and Rika under your wing, and both of them are monsters. Don’t even think about poaching mine too.”

Ragnar stared at him, speechless.

“Who said anything about stealing your student? I was just asking.”

Then he frowned slightly.

“If you already found the kid, why not just bring him straight into Jujutsu High?”

Gojo rubbed his chin and thought for a moment.

“Well… I figured someone with your personality might not be too fond of his background.”

Before he could finish, Ragnar cut in.

“Hold on. What exactly do you think of me?”

He shot Gojo an annoyed glare.

Gojo laughed without the slightest bit of guilt.

“That’s hard to say. I mean, wasn’t there someone who started talking about wiping out the entire higher-up council just because they said something he didn’t like?”

Ragnar rolled his eyes.

“That’s completely different. Don’t lump everything together.”

“Alright, alright.” Gojo raised both hands with a grin. “My bad.”

Then his tone relaxed a little.

“Anyway, Megumi’s still got a bit of resistance toward sorcerers. It’s less hatred and more that he just doesn’t want anything to do with our world.”

Ragnar nodded thoughtfully.

“So you’re waiting for him to experience something himself first. A curse, a cursed spirit, something that forces the issue. Then you step in.”

Gojo smiled.

“Exactly. Once that happens, he’ll choose this path himself.”

Ragnar looked at him for a moment.

“And if he dies before that?”

His voice was calm, but the question was not light.

“This isn’t some harmless test.”

Gojo waved a hand, completely unconcerned.

“He won’t die.”

The confidence in his voice was absolute.

“He’s one of the students I’ve already decided on.”

Ragnar sighed.

“You really are full of yourself.”

Gojo grabbed a bottle of soda from nearby and tossed it over.

“What? You want to go see him?”

Ragnar caught it with one hand, cracked it open with a soft hiss, and took a sip.

Cold. Sharp. Refreshing.

He had no desire to take another one.

“…Well, if he’s someone you picked out yourself, I guess I can take a look.”

Gojo gave him a lazy shrug.

“Just don’t expect him to be as easy to deal with as Yuta or Rika.”

Ragnar raised a brow.

“What, he’s a delinquent?”

Gojo smirked.

“Pretty much.”

Near Urami Higashi Junior High.

As usual, Megumi Fushiguro was in the middle of a fight with a group of delinquents from his school.

Even though there were more than a dozen of them, there was not the slightest trace of fear on his face.

He moved cleanly through the crowd, ducking, weaving, and striking without hesitation.

Every punch landed where it hurt.

Every kick was fast, sharp, and precise.

The delinquents who had started out all loud and aggressive were quickly dropped one after another, sprawled out on the ground groaning in pain.

Before long, all of them had been beaten flat by Megumi alone.

And Megumi just sat there on top of the human pile like it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

From a distance, Ragnar and Gojo watched the scene in silence.

After a moment, Ragnar spoke first.

“Not bad.”

His eyes stayed on Megumi.

“He took down that many by himself and didn’t panic once.”

Gojo grinned, clearly pleased.

“Right? He’s already got the instincts for it. Once he becomes a sorcerer, he’ll be even better.”

Ragnar folded his arms.

“Yeah. He’s got promise.”

Gojo tilted his head slightly and added, almost casually, “By the way, he’s got Zenin blood. One of the Big Three Families.”

Ragnar glanced at him.

“So Toji was originally from the Zenin clan.”

Gojo nodded.

“Exactly.”

Ragnar looked back at Megumi.

“Let’s go talk to him tonight.”

Gojo paused, then shrugged.

“We can try. But honestly? I don’t think it’ll work.”

He slipped both hands into his pockets.

“Asking him to suddenly step into the jujutsu world now is a long shot. If he’s going to become a sorcerer, he’ll need a reason he can accept for himself.”

Ragnar started walking off.

“That’s fine. Trying costs nothing.”

The Fushiguro household

Megumi sat on the sofa with his usual blank expression.

Tsumiki Fushiguro walked over and looked at him with helpless concern.

“Megu, didn’t you promise you’d stop getting into fights?”

Megumi did not even look up.

“Don’t give me that guardian act.”

Megumi hated bad people.

He hated the way they swaggered around, empty-headed and rotten to the core, acting like they were worth something.

But he did not like good people much either.

The kind who excused everything, forgave anything, and acted morally superior while doing it.

That sort of thing disgusted him just as much.

“…Makes me sick,” Megumi muttered.

Thump.

Tsumiki smacked a carton of milk right onto his head.

Megumi froze.

A beat later, milk dripped down the side.

Tsumiki yawned. “Ah… sorry. I didn’t think it would spill.”

Megumi slowly looked up at her, deadpan.

The room fell quiet for a while after that.

Then Tsumiki’s phone suddenly rang.

She glanced at the screen and answered.

“Hello?”

A voice came through the other end.

“Tsumiki? Are you free tonight?”

She thought about it for a moment.

“No. Well… not really. Why?”

The other side hesitated, then continued.

“It’s about that test of courage I mentioned before. Have you decided yet?”

A trace of hesitation appeared on Tsumiki’s face.

She had clearly been worrying about it.

But after a brief pause, she made up her mind.

“To be honest, I didn’t really want to go.”

Her voice softened slightly.

“But everyone else is going, so if I’m the only one who backs out, it’ll feel awkward.”

She glanced down, still uneasy.

“And… I don’t know. I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”

After a moment, she let out a quiet breath.

“But I decided I’ll go anyway.”