A little over an hour later, the helicopter landed on the helipad atop a high-rise building in Tokyo.
"Mr. Fushiguro, I'll take you to the lowest underground level now—eh? That area is dangerous! Mr. Fushiguro, please don't stand there!"
A man in a suit, who had been waiting early to greet him, put on a standard polite smile and walked over.
Before he could finish speaking, he saw Mukuro step off the helicopter and walk straight to the very edge of the rooftop, looking down below.
At the base of the building, a white-haired man with his eyes wrapped in bandages, hands in his pockets, was following another suited man toward the entrance.
"How high is this place?" Mukuro ignored the warning and asked calmly.
"Huh? Around one hundred and fifty meters, I think. I'm not completely sure of the exact number…"
The man was a bit stunned but answered from memory.
"I'll go down first and wait for you."
The number "4" appeared in Mukuro's right eye. In the man's wide-eyed stare, he stepped forward and fell straight down with his hands still in his pockets.
* * *
"Hm?"
Below, Satoru sensed something and looked up, just in time to see Mukuro dropping from the sky.
Right before hitting the ground, Mukuro lightly stepped on empty air. A powerful reverse force twisted the airflow, crushing the floor beneath him.
He actually stopped in midair, less than thirty centimeters above the ground.
"Th-this…"
The suited man was completely stunned by the scene and couldn't get a word out.
"Hey, hey. You bastard, why are you here too?"
Satoru straightened up and looked through the bandages at the friend he hadn't seen in a while.
"That kid caused a pretty big mess. Right now, the only special grade sorcerers still active in the country are you and me. What do you think?"
Yuki was still wandering overseas. As for Suguru, he was traveling the world with his two "adopted daughters," teaching them how to exorcise curses along the way.
"Hahahaha. Looks like they couldn't convince me, so they called you instead."
Satoru covered his face and laughed in mockery.
That kid had massive potential, enough to even catch his attention. Ordinary sorcerers couldn't handle him, which was why Satoru, who was already in Tokyo, had been called in by the higher-ups first.
But afterward, those people realized he was known for protecting promising youngsters. So they brought in Mukuro, someone outsiders saw more like a hired gun.
After all, his methods were famously ruthless.
"Who knows."
Mukuro shrugged his shoulders.
The two walked side by side into the building and took an elevator down to the deepest underground level.
When the doors opened into the conference room, the atmosphere was completely different from the modern building above. It felt like something preserved from a much older era.
The space was dim. They walked toward the center, lit by dull yellow lights.
On both sides stood several booth-like compartments, each about the size of a phone booth.
The true decision-makers of the jujutsu world were already seated inside, waiting.
"The boy has agreed to a secret execution. Which special grade sorcerer will carry it out?"
A voice came from one of the booths, skipping any attempt to ask their opinions.
"Who decided that? I was only told to come discuss the boy's punishment. When did I ever agree to carry out an execution for you?"
Mukuro spoke first, scanning the booths with clear displeasure.
"But… it was his own—"
"He's not even an adult. He's only sixteen. If you kill him like that, who knows how many people will end up cursed as a result."
Before the higher-ups could argue, Satoru cut in.
"So far, three grade 2 sorcerers and one grade 1 were injured trying to deal with him, right? That's exactly why the two of us are here."
His hands stayed in his pockets. Confidence filled his voice.
"Then… are you saying…"
After a brief silence, someone among the higher-ups finally backed down, changing the execution ruling to hear their decision.
"Have Jujutsu High take custody and supervise him."
Satoru glanced at Mukuro and stated his view.
"And you, special grade sorcerer Fushiguro?"
The higher-ups shifted their focus to Mukuro, hoping for a different answer.
"Unfortunately, I agree with this white-haired idiot."
Mukuro's words landed, and someone in one of the booths froze but said nothing.
"Since you both agree, that settles it. The meeting is over. Someone outside will take you to see the 'criminal.'"
With two special grade sorcerers backing him, there was no reason to continue the meeting.
The so-called higher-ups were only powerful compared to ordinary sorcerers.
Within the system, grade 1 sorcerers were the true backbone.
Special grade sorcerers stood entirely outside that structure. They stood at the top of the world.
As long as they didn't break fundamental laws, they were, in a sense, the sky of the jujutsu world.
As long as they stood, the sky wouldn't fall.
"Oh, right. Think before you speak next time. Am I someone you can order around? Do you even qualify?"
As the doors reopened and they prepared to leave, Mukuro glanced at one booth, the one belonging to the man who spoke first.
Silence filled the room. No one dared respond.
"What a pathetic bunch." Satoru mocked openly.
The two left and followed the suited man outside, taking the elevator back to ground level.
* * *
"Hey! What is this supposed to mean? I paid you to deal with that brat! He crippled my son!"
When the elevator doors opened, a man in a suit, surrounded by bodyguards, glared at Mukuro. In his anger, he even reached out to grab Mukuro's arm.
"First, when you paid me, you only asked that I intervene. Whether I do, how I do it, and the outcome are all my decisions. Second—"
Snap.
Without warning, and with no one but Satoru seeing what happened, the man's outstretched arm fell to the ground.
"Don't touch me with your filthy hands. This is a warning."
Mukuro's emotionless gaze made the man swallow his scream.
Fear flooded his mind. Once the anger faded, he finally remembered just how dangerous the man in front of him was.
The two didn't slow down. At the man's order, the bodyguards retreated to both sides, clearing a path.
"You're really bold, doing that here."
"If just anything could trouble a special grade sorcerer, those old fools would've died long ago. This works well as a warning example."
As they spoke, the two boarded another helicopter, heading toward their next destination.
The prison holding their target.
**
**
**
Thank you for reading! If you'd like access to extra chapters and want to support my work, you can visit my P@treon:
P@treon/SilverShark769
Vote with Power Stones for Bonus Chapters!
Your support means a lot, thank you!