The so-called “Global Panic Incident”, triggered by none other than Zenin Kyūjō, was ultimately brought under control—thanks to the intervention of Gojo Satoru.

Almost no one in the world of Jujutsu knew the true cause behind the event… except for the first-years at Tokyo Jujutsu High.

So why didn’t Gojo report Zenin Kyūjō to the higher-ups?

Well, there were several reasons.

First, he knew the moment those corrupt old men in the Supervisory Council found out, they’d jump to conclusions—and probably do something reckless.

And if that pissed off Kyūjō… guess who’d have to clean up the mess? Exactly. Him.

Second, the world of Jujutsu was full of maniacs and schemers.

If they ever learned the true extent of Kyūjō’s power, Gojo was certain they’d try to manipulate him. Some would use him for selfish ambition. Others… for their twisted ideals.

Take Geto Suguru, for example.

A former Special Grade sorcerer. His dream? “Eradicate all non-sorcerers and create a world without Cursed Spirits—only for true Jujutsu users.”

Yeah. That insane idea was something Geto had genuinely pursued.

As someone who once called him a friend, Gojo knew better than anyone just how dangerous Geto Suguru truly was—not just for his power, but for his mind.

He could weave entire scenarios like a master playwright. Brilliant, meticulous, and utterly unhinged.

That’s why Gojo chose silence.

For the sake of the Jujutsu world’s fragile peace… and to save himself some trouble… he decided to keep Zenin Kyūjō’s existence under wraps.

— — —

August, 2017

It was a quiet afternoon in the schoolyard of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Zenin Kyūjō stood under the open sky, guiding Yuta Okkotsu and the other first-years through a round of physical training. The sun cast long shadows across the field, and everything seemed normal—until Kyūjō’s brow furrowed.

Trouble was coming.

He turned just in time to see a brash, blond-haired teen striding across the yard, his aura loud and obnoxious. Despite only being seventeen, his face gave off a slightly older, delinquent vibe.

“Zenin Kyūjō! Your senpai’s here for another round!” Hakari Kinji shouted, rushing toward him with a grin.

Kyūjō’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

Here we go again.

Hakari, a second-year, wasn’t weak by any means. But compared to Kyūjō, the gap was like earth and sky. The problem was… Hakari didn’t seem to notice.

Ever since he suffered a humiliating defeat three months ago during their first bout, Hakari had made it his mission to show up every few days—for another beating.

It was honestly kind of impressive… in a pathetic sort of way.

Without saying a word, Kyūjō sidestepped Hakari’s punch and caught him by the wrist with ease.

Then, with a single, casual motion, he swung him around like a rag doll and slammed him into the ground.

The dull thud echoed across the training field.

But Kyūjō didn’t stop there.

Knowing just how absurd Hakari’s durability was, he hoisted the poor guy again and repeated the same throw—five more times.

Six craters. All shaped like Hakari Kinji.

Finally, Kyūjō released his grip, letting Hakari sprawl flat on his back like a discarded piece of trash.

Off in the distance, Gojo Satoru peeked lazily from under the shade of a tree. He lifted the edge of his blindfold slightly… then lowered it again.

Clearly not his problem.

“Alright. Let’s continue,” Kyūjō said, turning back to Yuta and the others.

— — —

But before training could resume, the unexpected happened.

Hakari—who had just been knocked unconscious—stood up.

Kyūjō blinked, mildly surprised.

“Heh… You really are something else, little freshman,” Hakari muttered, grinning as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.

Then, out of nowhere, he stripped off the top half of his black uniform, revealing well-defined muscles beneath.

He began twisting and swaying his body… like he was dancing.

Or maybe partying.

“What’s wrong with that guy? He looks drunk,” Zenin Mai muttered, frowning as she glanced at her older sister.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if he was. And for the record, Mai, even when you’re older—no clubbing,” Maki said sternly, pushing her glasses up with a glare.

But before anyone could respond further, Hakari shouted something that silenced the entire field.

“Domain Expansion—Idle Death Gamble!”

— — —

Idle Death Gamble.

The signature domain of the gambling maniac himself, Hakari Kinji.

Once activated, a slot machine themed after a romantic high school train drama would materialize—and Hakari would begin spinning.

If he hit the jackpot, he’d gain temporary buffs like Instant Regeneration, Infinite Cursed Energy, Supercharged Strikes, and more.

All buffs lasted precisely 4 minutes and 11 seconds.

The base odds of winning? 1 in 239.

Sounds like a scam. But inside the domain, Hakari gained a special “luck aura”—which drastically boosted his win rate beyond what statistics could explain.

— — —

“Alright! Let’s see what we’ve got this time—Wahahaha! Infinite Cursed Energy!” Hakari bellowed, flexing as his body surged with cursed power. “It’s over for you, little freshman! I’ll repay every beating you gave me!”

Zenin Kyūjō didn’t even flinch.

He quietly activated his Infinity Perception, analyzing the domain with a calm, curious gaze.

This domain was definitely… unique.

It wasn’t like the usual types that guaranteed a hit. It was more of a “special rule” domain. An anomaly.

Still, it took Kyūjō only a few seconds to grasp its fatal flaw.

If the opponent was equal—or even slightly weaker—it might work.

But against someone far stronger, like Kyūjō?

If Hakari failed to hit the jackpot on the first spin… then this entire domain was nothing more than a flashy, pointless light show.

Of course, if his luck kept firing, and he managed to chain multiple Instant Regenerations, then yeah—he might survive for a while.

But defeating Zenin Kyūjō?

Let’s be real.

No matter what jackpot he pulled… the outcome would never change.

— — —

Empowered by Infinite Cursed Energy, Hakari Kinji unleashed his full strength without hesitation, as if completely disregarding efficiency or control. His entire body was wrapped in cursed energy, and in the blink of an eye, he shot forward with a wild punch.

But Zenin Kyūjō didn’t even flinch.

Without using a single cursed technique, he calmly clenched his fist and drove it straight into Hakari’s chest with overwhelming force.

The blow sent Hakari flying backward, blood gushing from his mouth as his body spun mid-air before crashing into the ground.

Fortunately, the Infinite Cursed Energy granted by his jackpot allowed Hakari to instinctively master the Reverse Cursed Technique, and his wounds quickly began to heal.

He charged again, even faster than before.

But what happened next went far beyond anything Hakari could have imagined.

No—it was downright cruel.

With nothing but his bare fists, Zenin Kyūjō began pounding Hakari into the ground like a relentless machine.

For three full minutes, punch after punch landed without pause. And while Hakari did his best to keep healing himself with Reverse Cursed Technique, it was no longer a fight. It was a beatdown.

A one-sided massacre.

By the time the effect of Idle Death Gamble was even close to ending, Hakari had already lost all strength to stand.

He lay sprawled on the ground like a gutted fish, eyes unfocused and empty. The sheer difference in power had shattered his will to continue.

Eventually, Hakari dispelled his Domain Expansion on his own.

Kyūjō walked over, calm and composed, then lifted Hakari from the ground with one hand.

“If you can activate a domain, that means you’re not just some nobody,” he said softly. “But don’t get the wrong idea.”

He gently patted his own shoulder.

“Do you have any idea how many people in this world could beat me? Not many. I’m seriously strong, you know? So don’t act like you’re supposed to win against me.”

His voice lowered, becoming more sincere.

“Kid… I know that being ‘the strongest’ isn’t your goal. So stop chasing me like this. Chase your own dream.”

“I believe someday, you’ll become the kind of sorcerer you want to be.”

After dumping a whole motivational speech with a generous side of sarcasm, Zenin Kyūjō turned away and rejoined the rest of the first-years.

From behind, Panda leaned toward Toge Inumaki and whispered with awe in his voice.

“Kyūjō-san is amazing… Even Hakari-senpai, the strongest second-year, didn’t stand a chance!”

Toge simply nodded in silence.

To them, Zenin Kyūjō felt like something from another dimension entirely.

And what made it even scarier… was that he wasn’t the only monster among the first-years.

Toge’s gaze shifted to Yuta Okkotsu.

The Special Grade first-year who’d already made a name for himself the moment he enrolled.

He possessed nearly unlimited Cursed Energy, a unique innate ability called Copy Technique, and even had a Special Grade Cursed Spirit as his personal guardian.

But even with all that…

Compared to Zenin Kyūjō, Yuta still felt like an ordinary person.

— — —

That afternoon, after the training session had wrapped up, Gojo Satoru finally made his appearance—having vanished for the entire day as usual.

“Well, well~ No wonder they call you the strongest first-years in Tokyo Jujutsu High history! Your energy is off the charts!”

Zenin Kyūjō rolled his eyes and shot him a sharp glare.

“Gojo Satoru, your salary should go to me. Seriously—how many months has it been since you actually taught anything? I came here to study, not to replace you as a teacher!”

“Eh? Speaking of which, I heard there’s a new dessert place that just opened in Ginza~ They say it’s really good! I happen to be free tonight, so… how about a little celebration trip? Who’s in?”

Immediately, all the first-years raised their hands without hesitation.

Including… Zenin Kyūjō.

With a threatening glare, Kyūjō raised his hand and declared:

“You’re paying for everyone tonight.”

“For real!? Long live Kyūjō-san—uh, I mean, Gojo-sensei! You’re the best!!” Panda shouted with glee, raising both arms in the air.

“You really are amazing, big bro…” Zenin Mai added in awe, glancing at her older sister Zenin Maki with admiration.

But Maki just sighed, dark lines forming on her face.

“Big bro, my ass… You’re seriously gonna walk around Ginza with him? You’ve got no shame, Mai.”

But the real finishing blow came from Yuta Okkotsu.

“Actually, Panda… Even if we can go to Ginza, are you sure you can walk around in public without causing a panic?”

“If you show up there, the next day’s headline might be: ‘Panda escapes from national zoo—sighting reported in downtown Ginza.'”

“Full title: ‘Foreign-loaned panda suspected to have fled Tokyo Zoo—international incident feared.'”

Zenin Kyūjō: “…”

Zenin Maki: “…”

Zenin Mai: “…”

Toge Inumaki: “…Salmon.”

Gojo Satoru: “…”

Panda (crushed): “Ugh… I’m going home… to find my dad… You’re all so mean…”

Tears in his eyes, Panda sprinted away toward the dorms.

Zenin Mai sighed. “That was a little harsh, Okkotsu-kun…”

That night, the rest of the first-years and Gojo Satoru had a great time in Ginza—while Panda spent the evening alone in the Jujutsu High dorms.

— — —

One week later.

Inside the first-year classroom, everyone was present.

Even three second-year students had entered the room: Hakari Kinji, along with two others who weren’t particularly well-known.

Standing at the front, Gojo Satoru clapped his hands to grab their attention.

“Alright, listen up! In three days, the annual Exchange Event between Tokyo and Kyoto Jujutsu High will kick off! As usual, the event will be held here in Tokyo. So do your best to win—because if we lose, we’ll be the ones hauling our butts to annoying old Kyoto next year.”

He paused for effect, then continued.

“After discussing it thoroughly with Principal Yaga, we’ve decided that this year’s representatives will all be from the first-year class. You second-years don’t mind, right?”

“Of course, you’re still welcome to join… if you really want to.”

The three second-years just quietly shook their heads.

They’d participated last year, and honestly, if not for Hakari’s efforts back then, they probably would’ve lost and been forced to go to Kyoto this year anyway.

Seeing that no one objected, Gojo nodded and turned back to the first-years.

“Alright then! It’s all up to you guys. Don’t embarrass Tokyo Jujutsu High. If you lose to Kyoto, well… hehehe.”

His gaze turned oddly menacing.

But then he added, in a suddenly cheerful tone:

“Oh, by the way! Zenin Kyūjō hasn’t been feeling well lately—so! He won’t be participating this time. I’m leaving everything in your hands: Yuta, Toge, Panda, Maki, Mai… Give it your best!”

Zenin Kyūjō: “…Huh?”

Since when was I sick?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep