Ch.167 Was This Part of Your Calculations Too?

"Teach, what does it take for someone to get others to willingly follow them, to fight for them?"

"Lots of stuff, I guess. Strength? Charisma? A goal? Ideals? Respect? Oh, and pay—duh. If they can't even eat, who's gonna risk their neck for you? Ideals don't fill stomachs."

"…"

"What's with that face?"

"Didn't expect you to get it so well."

Gojo Satoru's rocking the legit OP protagonist template—born with a golden spoon, top-tier lineage, unmatched talent, strongest by a mile, destined to sit at the pyramid's peak, and still so young. How's a guy like that supposed to understand the common folk's struggles?

To that, he just flashed a calm smile, different from his usual smirk.

"Didn't get it before I was an adult. Started picking it up after meeting little Megumi."

That chance encounter came on a whim, but it taught Gojo Satoru a ton.

A kid barely in elementary school already grasping dignity—rejecting pity, refusing to be a pawn, but not outright shutting out kindness either.

No money meant he and his sister couldn't survive.

In the end, Gojo Satoru went with a student loan setup—gave Megumi a path to fend for himself through effort. Earned his respect and loyalty that way.

Don't let the perma-scowl fool you—if Gojo Satoru's in real trouble, Megumi's the first one freaking out.

Not father and son, but closer than most.

Out of nowhere, Akira recalled something Cynthia-nee (Sinnoh Champ Cynthia) used to say:

Every life meeting another sparks something new.

She'd said it to Ash and Paul, those two knuckleheads. Anyone thinking dirty can go face the wall.

Akira wouldn't twist it anyway. He nodded, "Since you get it, this'll be easy—let's break down what these old geezers can offer.

Strength? No contest. Unless they cheat with some off-board tricks, even tied together they're not beating us.

Charisma? Maybe they've got some, but I'm not feeling it.

Goals, ideals? Keeping the status quo's their big dream—ours trump theirs any day.

Respect? Hilarious. They're the poster boys for hierarchy and rank. They only respect fists and folks above them.

And then there's pay—"

Akira paused on purpose, glancing at Maki, then at his bio mom.

"—Here, the conservatives have a slight edge, but not much. Find a savvy bro willing to splash cash, and it's no issue. Play the capitalist card—Kyoto can't outspend Tokyo."

"That's the weird part," Gojo Satoru said, arms crossed, frowning. "Sounds like we've got the upper hand, so why's reality flipped?"

"You missed the big one: upward mobility. Jujutsu world or anywhere else—small company or whole nation—long-term growth boils down to that. No mobility, no hope. And mobility hinges on the system.

Take a company that tanks. What's a manager, supervisor, or director mean then?"

"Nothing, obviously."

"Same with the Jujutsu Alliance. Sorcerers' promotions, pay—everything rides on it. Even us, fighting against it, we're still eating its dividends. If the system's gone, what do you think sorcerers'll feel? Or the grunts serving it?"

"They'd come for my head. Can't win, but they'd try," Gojo Satoru said straight. "Got it. I've been off-track from the start."

"Not wrong, just fuzzy. The Alliance is run by conservatives, so you lumped 'Alliance' and 'conservatives' together. Smashing the conservatives became smashing the Alliance. Maybe not your intent, but that's the vibe you gave off. Even Nanami misread it—imagine the other sorcerers."

Simple logic: you can stop one or two from eating, but flip the whole table, and nobody eats.

That's the real clash.

Compared to that, no Alliance meaning unchecked Cursed Spirits and bigger civilian body counts? Barely a blip.

Humans are selfish at heart. I'm starving—why should I care who dies?

"Good thing I'm invincible," Gojo Satoru grinned, all teeth.

Otherwise, he'd be toast—no conservatives needed.

"You should've told me sooner."

"Only clicked for me lately," Akira admitted. "Got dragged into your ditch at first—planned around minimal killing, then it felt off. I'm all for less death, though."

Mostly 'cause I don't have your AOE nuke skills, and I don't want my Pokémon getting their hands dirty. They should just vibe—happy and carefree.

"So the turtle drawings—"

"—That's my OG plan, Plan A.

Most sorcerers don't care who's in charge as long as their lives and climb aren't messed with. That's the perk of a solid system.

Push further—better living, bigger ladders—and they'll back you naturally. Haven't nailed the how yet.

But if addition's out, subtraction works. Chip away at the conservatives' clout and cred, and ours grows. Everything I do next spins off that.

They're all about face and pecking order, right? Their HQ's trashed, everyone's snoozing with turtles on their mugs—word spreads…"

"…and their wrinkly faces scream 'turtle.' Good luck flexing after that," Gojo Satoru cackled. "Not just turtles—I've got other fun ideas. Can I use 'em?"

Akira smirked, "Why not? Free shot—don't waste it. After, hit up the higher-ups for 'compensation.' Face is fake; I can't grab it. Real perks, though—"

"—Like warning 'em to watch for random meteor strikes. I'm on it."

Gojo Satoru got it. He wasn't just a prank master—he was a threat pro. This round, the conservatives wouldn't just lose face; they'd lose their shorts too!

"Oh, you said Plan A. Got a Plan B?"

"Yep. If the higher-ups do nothing—just hold meetings, study curses, play nice—I can't exactly go berserk. At most, I'd dig up dirt on them and map the Alliance's structure. Prep for when we rip the masks off."

The more he knew about the Alliance's gears, the less likely Gojo Satoru's worst-case fears would hit.

As a veteran gacha player, setting a safety net's standard, right?

Akira dared to say it, Gojo Satoru dared to hear it—but his bio mom couldn't stay chill.

Was this part of your calculations too, my sweet boy?

What kind of monster did I birth? Are my genes with the old man's that cracked?

No way—second kid, no, third kid plan's gotta get fast-tracked. Jujutsu Sorcerers have an edge with late pregnancies anyway.