With Gojo's guidance, Yuta gradually regained his confidence and began blending into life at Jujutsu High.
Under the leadership of the other three first-years, Yuta trained hard — and improved quickly.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Geto, who had been amassing wealth through the Star Religious Group, discovered the existence of Rika. And from that moment, he began plotting to claim her for himself.
Inside the Star Religious Group's compound, blood stained the floor. Geto sat on the central dais, dressed in loose monk robes, surrounded by his followers — all sorcerers who shared his ideology.
He had just finished draining a rich man's fortune dry and was now holding Yuta's student ID, thinking about how best to lure the boy in.
The Queen of Curses — if he could obtain her, his plans would accelerate dramatically. After all, if the higher-ups had already labeled Yuta a Special Grade solely because of Rika, that meant she was no ordinary cursed spirit.
A faint smile appeared on Geto's face.
"Let's go. Time to meet this little one in person."
He already had a plan. If Yuta was willing to cooperate, there'd be no need for bloodshed. If not — he'd simply take what he wanted by force.
Without hesitation, Geto summoned a flying curse and, along with a few followers, set off toward Jujutsu High.
At that very moment, inside Jujutsu High…
Several teachers were in the middle of a staff meeting, discussing Gojo's latest proposal — introducing a hand-to-hand combat class for students.
"I think sorcerers should develop in all areas," Gojo said confidently. "Both technique and physical skill are essential. In battle, that balance gives you an edge.
When your cursed energy runs dry, physical ability is what keeps you alive.
After all, no powerful sorcerer is bad at hand-to-hand combat.
Instead of having students develop their body techniques only through experience in the field, why not establish an official course? We can build their foundation here — so that in real fights, they'll adapt faster.
It's for the sake of Jujutsu High's future, Principal Yaga. What do you think?"
Gojo spoke with such conviction that he almost sounded sincere. Beside him, Riko was trying hard not to laugh.
Yaga rubbed his temples in frustration. He glanced at Gojo, then at Riko's barely contained grin, and finally at Jinsuke — who looked utterly exasperated.
It was obvious what this was really about: Gojo just wanted to make someone do more work.
"Nanami, what do you think?" Yaga turned toward Nanami, who had recently returned to Jujutsu High as a professional sorcerer.
Compared to his student days, Nanami looked far more put-together — clean haircut, sharp suit, upright posture. He looked more like a successful salaryman than a jujutsu sorcerer.
He calmly took a sip of tea, glanced at Jinsuke — who was giving him a "agree and I'll kill you" kind of stare — and cleared his throat.
"I think... this is the kind of decision the principal should make. I'm just an ordinary sorcerer."
Yaga's mouth twitched. "What a wonderfully useless answer."
"Then, Jinsuke-sensei, what about you?" Yaga turned to the real target. If the course was approved, Jinsuke would obviously be the one teaching it — the school's resident martial arts master and close-combat specialist.
"I'll follow whatever decision the principal makes," Jinsuke said evenly.
"Huh?" Gojo blinked. "He didn't refuse?"
He'd fully expected Jinsuke to push back. Even though Gojo was going to make it happen either way, the total lack of reaction threw him off.
Wasn't this guy supposed to hate unnecessary work?
"Ahem," Yaga said. "In that case, I think it's a good idea to introduce this course. Jinsuke-sensei, you'll be in charge. Don't worry — I'll report to the higher-ups and triple your salary. How does that sound?"
Seeing that Jinsuke hadn't refused, Yaga finalized the decision.
Sure, Gojo's motives weren't exactly noble, but his logic wasn't wrong. A sorcerer shouldn't rely solely on cursed techniques — physical skill was vital too.
And since they happened to have a martial arts master on staff, why not use him?
"I have no objections," Jinsuke said calmly.
He wasn't actually against teaching the class — he just didn't like Gojo's smug face.
Besides, with Maki now studying at Tokyo Jujutsu High and Mai off in Kyoto, things at home were quiet. Soon, Megumi would enroll too, and it wouldn't hurt to spend more time on campus to keep an eye on things.
Also… the plot was about to kick off again. He wasn't about to miss any opportunities.
"Wow, old man, you've really turned over a new leaf!" Riko said brightly.
"Hey, that's not fair!" Gojo protested. "Principal Yaga, you're giving him a raise? His salary's almost higher than mine—and I'm the strongest!"
"The matter's settled," Yaga said flatly, ignoring him.
He couldn't overpower Gojo, sure — but as Gojo's former teacher, he had no qualms about shutting him down.
"Hey! Principal! You can't just ignore me! I'm filing a complaint!" Gojo nearly slammed the table in frustration.
He'd wanted Jinsuke to work harder—not get paid more!
"You're such a child. Grow up already. Even Nanami's more mature than you," Jinsuke said with a faint smile.
"What'd you say? You wanna fight?!"
"Fight him! Fight him, old man!" Riko shouted gleefully, cheering them on.
"Typical brat. Who even duels anymore?" Jinsuke scoffed.
Nanami quietly adjusted his tie and took another sip of tea.
Yaga just sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"These people… do they even remember they're teachers? What would the students think if they saw this?"
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, everyone sensed it — a strange aura.
A curse had breached the school barrier.
"He's back," Gojo muttered, his expression sharpening. In an instant, he vanished from the room.
"Geto?"
Riko and Yaga exchanged glances, quickly following after him.
"So, the kid's come to make a statement, huh?" Jinsuke mused, stretching lazily. "Figures — it's about that time of year again."
He turned to Nanami. "Wanna go meet your favorite senpai?"
Nanami checked his watch. "It's past working hours. I'll pass."
"Fair enough."
Jinsuke stood, hands in his pockets, and strolled toward the door, muttering to himself,
"Another one driven mad by the curse of overwork."