CHAPTER 11: STROLL WITH THE DEVIL

The world stood still.

Suguru Geto's hand rested lightly on Yuta's shoulder—not with force, but with the disarming gentleness of someone who believed they'd already won.

Around them, the courtyard remained tense. Panda had shifted into a combat stance. Maki gripped her weapon. Inumaki's lips twitched with cursed syllables, just waiting for the order.

But Geto only smiled.

"No need for theatrics. I'm not here to fight."

His eyes turned to Yuta. "Not yet."

Yuta froze, unsure whether to move or cry out. But something in Geto's presence—the eerie calm, the confidence—felt like a thread wrapped around his throat.

"Come," Geto said smoothly. "Just a walk."

And before anyone could stop them, he guided Yuta gently through the stone archways of Jujutsu High—toward the garden path under the camphor trees.

—

"YUTA!"

A flash of white—Satoru Gojo appeared behind them in a heartbeat, blindfold pushed up, eyes narrowed with cold fury.

He stood only feet away.

"Geto," Gojo said, voice devoid of amusement. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

Geto didn't even glance back.

"Relax, Satoru. I'm just having a conversation with my successor."

Yuta's breath caught. "Successor…?"

Geto turned, finally acknowledging Gojo, but not removing his hand from Yuta's shoulder.

"You see, this boy carries the future of cursed energy in his hands. And the girl bound to him… she's divine. A being of limitless potential. A curse so strong, it defies death itself."

He leaned closer to Yuta. "Tell me, Yuta… wouldn't you like to live in a world where you're not feared? Where you make the rules?"

Yuta looked away. "What are you talking about…?"

Geto's eyes glittered. "A new world, free of non-sorcerers. Free of weakness. I will gather every curse and sorcerer who believes in our cause. And with your help—no—with Rika's help, we will purify this world."

Gojo's jaw clenched. "You haven't changed."

"I've evolved," Geto replied. "This world is rotting, Satoru. You cling to balance, but balance is stagnation. I'm offering rebirth."

Yuta stepped back slightly, unease swirling in his chest.

"You want to use Rika… as a weapon?"

Geto gave a quiet laugh.

"No. I want to honor her. Shape the world through her."

Gojo stepped between them. "That's enough."

Their gazes locked—two former allies, now standing on opposite sides of ideology.

"Leave," Gojo said. "Now. Or I'll end it here."

Geto's smile faded into something colder, darker. His hand finally fell from Yuta's shoulder.

"We'll meet again, Yuta," he said softly. "You'll have to choose eventually. Them… or the truth."

With that, he turned. The cursed spirits that had lingered in the shadows slithered back into the void with him.

And he vanished, leaving behind a silence heavier than any scream.

Yuta stood trembling.

Gojo placed a hand on his shoulder—this time filled with warmth, not pressure.

"You okay?"

Yuta nodded, barely.

But deep in his heart, something had shifted.

He had seen the enemy. And the enemy had called him a successor.