Chapter 31: The Storm

"Most of those people died on the spot. A few made it to the hospital, but they'll likely be permanently disabled. And though you didn't lay a hand on them… Jujutsu High, based on the survivors' statements, has accused you of deliberately inciting their deaths. They've even considered labeling you as a murder suspect."

Shingen Genichi sat still, watching Gojo Satoru lounge across the sofa, the sunlight catching the edges of his bandaged eyes. There was no anxiety in the strongest Sorcerer's posture, only a familiar, casual arrogance.

Shingen scratched his head and sighed, eyes wide with mock innocence: "How could that be? I clearly handed them over to the Police. I even restrained myself. They were alive when I left them—how was I supposed to know they'd… well, tear each other apart?"

Gojo Satoru leaned back, gaze still hidden but sharp all the same. "You know how it is, Genichi. I've always had 'issues' with the Higher-up at Jujutsu High. Those old fossils are bitter and vindictive. They're not after justice—they're after blood. And they'll use you to get to me. Once you show weakness, they'll swarm like flies to rot."

Silence followed. Shingen Genichi let the words settle, then said softly, "Aren't you going to ask me why I did it?"

Gojo gave a small smile. It wasn't smug, but nostalgic.

"Why bother asking something I already know?" he replied. "I raised you, Genichi. I know you're not some noble warrior fighting for lofty ideals. You don't march under a banner. But you can't stand to look away from something disgusting, can you?"

"I've already handled the fallout. You won't be charged," Gojo added, standing and walking toward the door. "But your First-Grade evaluation? That's going to be delayed."

Then, just as he reached the doorway, he paused. "Oh, and Genichi—what's your view on strength and weakness? I mean the difference between Jujutsu Sorcerers and ordinary people."

Shingen blinked. That wasn't what he expected.

But after a moment of thought, he answered, "In terms of raw power? Sure. Sorcerers are 'strong.' But I think it's a lot like how society works among non-Sorcerers. There's always hierarchy, always gaps between people—some you're born into, others you earn. And those gaps are hard to cross either way. It's just that ours… are bigger."

"But I don't think that makes us better. Sorcerers and non-Sorcerers… we come from each other. Talented Sorcerers can be born from 'ordinary' people, and Sorcerers' kids can be born without a shred of Cursed Energy. So what's the real difference?"

He snapped his fingers, eyes narrowing.

"I remember a saying—'With great power comes great responsibility.' But I think it's more accurate to say, 'With great authority comes great responsibility.' Jujutsu High holds power, so they carry the duty to protect. I get a salary, so I finish my assignments. You and Yuki-san? You're Special Grades. But Yuki didn't accept the system, so she's free. No power, no burden."

Gojo didn't say a word.

His face turned slightly, toward the window.

Then, without warning, his entire demeanor shifted. "Forget it. This conversation will have to wait," he muttered.

Shingen's body tensed. Something had changed.

"Something's wrong. Outsiders are approaching Jujutsu High."

He vanished.

Shingen Genichi wasted no time. He activated his Technique and dashed toward the school gates, the wind rippling around him like distorted glass.

As he arrived, a strange scene unfolded before him.

On the ancient stone path stood a black-haired man draped in a Monk kasaya, speaking calmly to Yuta Okkotsu. Nearby, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki Toge stood on alert. On the opposite side loomed a grotesquely massive pelican-like creature with four wings and an unnatural gleam in its eye. Beside it, several unfamiliar Curse Masters stood silently.

And that's when the man spoke.

"Kill all non-Sorcerers and build a world solely for those with Jujutsu. That is our goal."

Shingen's thoughts were instant.

A Mad man.

But before he could react, Gojo appeared beside him.

"Suguru" Gojo said coldly. "Stop poisoning my students with your delusions."

Suguru Geto.

The name clicked in Shingen's mind. The once-Jujutsu Sorcerer, now Special Grade Curse User.

Geto smiled as if reuniting with an old friend. "It's been a while, Satoru~. So these are your students? Not bad. I heard they're promising."

Gojo didn't answer. He stared at Geto like someone assessing a fatal illness.

And then, unexpectedly, Geto's gaze drifted to Shingen.

"You must be Shingen-Kun, right? I've heard the rumors. What do you say? Haven't you seen enough of the corruption in the Jujutsu world? Come—join us. Build something new."

Shingen smiled, eyes cool.

"I'm not interested in cults. And my classmates feel the same way. Would you mind keeping your creepy philosophies to yourself?"

A sneer twisted the face of one of Geto's followers. "How dare you speak to Geto-sama like that—!"

Shingen casually turned to Gojo. "Sensei, they're all Curse Users, right? Should we just finish this now?"

Geto's smile twitched. But Gojo cut in calmly, "Not now. He's prepared. If we act, he'll unleash every Cursed Spirit under his control. Even with our firepower, someone will die. Some of those spirits are Special Grade."

Shingen said nothing more.

He had no intention of escalating things—but he also wasn't going to stand silent while Geto tried to sway his friends.

When Geto made a remark about Maki's lack of Sorcerer lineage, Yuta stepped forward. "You're wrong. Maki is my friend. She has more strength than anyone I know."

Gojo's presence materialized instantly between them. "What's your real reason for coming here, Suguru?"

Geto looked around.

Then his voice boomed.

"I am here to declare a War!"

"All of you, listen closely. On December 24th, as the sun sets, we will launch the Hyakki Yagyō. The Parade of a Hundred Demons will march across Japan!"

"Cursed Spirits—thousands of them—will be released across two key battlefields: Shinjuku… and Kyoto."

His eyes gleamed. "Unless you want a thousand people to die screaming, come stop us. Let us curse each other to death with joy!"

Just as the tension surged, one of the girls with him tugged on his sleeve. "Geto-sama… the crepe shop is closing."

The moment shattered.

Geto sighed.

"Sorry, Satoru. The girls are demanding snacks. We'll take our leave."

He stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. "Don't get any ideas. Everyone here is within range of my techn. I've grown stronger too."

As he retreated, a tidal wave of monstrous Cursed Spirits surged from behind him, blackening the sky with their forms. Several radiated overwhelming pressure—Special Grades among them.

Shingen clenched his fists but remained still.

With a final smirk, Geto climbed onto the massive four-winged pelican.

"Farewell, everyone."

And they vanished into the sky.

Only silence remained.

Shingen approached Yuta.

"You alright?"

Yuta nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Shingen patted his shoulder.

"That guy's lost it. Don't let him get in your head."

Yes—Shingen had no doubt. Geto was insane. His dream of a Sorcerer-only world was a lie held together by delusion.

What would he do when a Sorcerer gave birth to a powerless child? Or when a Sorcerer had family among civilians? Would they kill their loved ones?

Even if Geto succeeded, he'd be alone in the end—surrounded by the ashes of a world he burned down with his own hands.

Later that night.

In the faculty conference room, Ieiri stood before the others, her voice grim.

"Suguru Geto has over two thousand Cursed Spirits under his control. He's using his religious cult to collect and house them. His Technique—Cursed Spirit Manipulation—lets him absorb naturally occurring spirits without binding rituals."

Yaga Masamichi folded his arms.

"Most are low-grade—Grade 2 and below. And even if he's gathered rogue Sorcerers, they shouldn't exceed fifty in number."

"He can stir chaos," Yaga muttered. "But not annihilate entire cities."

Gojo Satoru leaned against the wall.

"That's the scary part. He knows he can't win… unless he has a trump card."

A cold silence.

Yaga's expression hardened. "Alert all Big Three Families. Reach out to the Ainu Jujutsu Alliance. This will be an all-out war."

"We exorcise Geto this time. No more mercy."

Elsewhere.

Within a shadowed hall, Suguru Geto addressed his Curse Users.

"Just hold off Gojo Satoru. That's all you need to do. They still believe in the version of me that wore their uniform. Let them."

He stared at a gleaming object on the table.

The Totsuka-no-Tsurugi.

"With that sword, I will kill Yuta Okkotsu. And then… Rika Orimoto will be mine."

A towering black man in white—Miguel—stepped forward.

"You're really reviving that thing? What was it called? Shuten-dōji?"

Suguru Geto smiled thinly.

"It's not just a Curse. That's thing has a will. So I can't absorb it directly. But if we revive it with the right vessel…"

He turned to the blade.

"…we'll make it our weapon."

Miguel crossed his arms. "So the legend's true, then? It takes the blood of a descendant to awaken Shuten-dōji?"

Geto gave a slow nod.

"Bring the swords. And bring the girl."

He raised his hand.

"To a New World, Everyone."

"To a world that free of Monkeys."

The wind outside howled like distant laughter.

And the storm began to approach.

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Word Count:1,539