Chapter 81: Young Itadori
Itadori Wasuke didn't give chase; he simply walked up to his grandson, roughly ruffled his pink hair, and, though his tone was still sharp, it carried an almost imperceptible concern: "Idiot! If someone bullies you, don't you know to run? You just stand there like a fool!"
When Itadori Yuji saw his grandfather, all the grievances he had just felt welled up, and he said with a sob, "Grandpa! They said I'm a monster..."
"Nonsense!"
Itadori Wasuke's voice grew louder, "You are my grandson, Itadori Wasuke's grandson! You are a man who stands tall! Being strong is a good thing! Don't listen to those useless people talk nonsense!"
He took his grandson's hand, about to leave, but his gaze sharply swept over Toho Hiroshi, who was standing not far away, wearing a hood and quietly watching them.
The old man had lived for many years and experienced many storms; his intuition was exceptionally sharp. Although Toho Hiroshi had reined in all his aura and looked like an ordinary young man on the street, Itadori Wasuke felt an indescribable, profound sense of oppression from him, like a giant beast lurking beneath a calm sea.
This kind of temperament was definitely not that of an ordinary person.
He pulled his grandson behind him, looked at Toho Hiroshi warily, and asked in a deep voice, "Young man, can I help you?"
Toho Hiroshi silently watched the grandfather and grandson.
He saw Itadori Wasuke's protective stance and the innocent, bright eyes of little Yuji, despite his grievances. A string in his heart, long frozen, seemed to be subtly plucked.
He remembered the old man's dying wish in another timeline and the cruel fate Itadori Yuji would have to bear in the future.
This child, at this moment, was just an ordinary boy who would feel wronged when bullied, yet he was destined to become the breeding ground for the King of Curses' revival, embroiled in countless bloody battles and massacres.
And behind all of this, Kenjaku's dark hand was very likely pulling the strings.
"Nothing."
Toho Hiroshi finally spoke, his voice coming through the hood, sounding somewhat deep and hoarse, "Just passing by."
His gaze lingered on Itadori Yuji for a moment, deep and complex, making little Yuji instinctively clutch his grandfather's clothes.
Then, Toho Hiroshi said no more and turned to leave.
"Wait."
Itadori Wasuke suddenly called out to him.
The old man took a few steps forward, keeping some distance, and looked at Toho Hiroshi's retreating back, saying in a serious tone, "Kid, I don't know who you are, but you have a... an unusual aura about you. I've lived most of my life, and I'm a pretty good judge of character."
He paused, then continued, "No matter who you are or what you want, stay away from my grandson. We are just ordinary people and want to live ordinary lives."
Toho Hiroshi's footsteps stopped again.
He didn't turn around, only replied faintly, his voice so soft it almost dissipated in the wind:
"An ordinary life... perhaps that's the hardest thing to obtain."
After speaking, he didn't linger and quickly disappeared around the street corner.
Itadori Wasuke stood rooted to the spot, his brows tightly furrowed, staring in the direction where Toho Hiroshi had vanished, remaining motionless for a long time. The uneasy feeling in his heart had not dissipated.
"Grandpa, who was that big brother?" Little Yuji asked, looking up.
"A passerby."
Itadori Wasuke withdrew his gaze and firmly squeezed his grandson's hand, "Let's go, home. Remember, Yuji, you must become stronger in the future, strong enough to protect yourself, and also to help others when you can. But most importantly, you must distinguish who is worth helping and who you shouldn't provoke."
"Yes! I understand, Grandpa!"
Little Yuji nodded vigorously, quickly forgetting the unpleasantness and regaining his usual energy.
Meanwhile, the departing Toho Hiroshi walked through the streets of Sendai, his eyes under the hood still cold.
The unexpected encounter with the Itadori grandfather and grandson had not changed his plan; it only further confirmed the far-reaching nature of Kenjaku's scheme.
This seemingly peaceful city might have already been enveloped by shadows.
While Toho Hiroshi was sensing Kenjaku's traces on the streets of Sendai and coincidentally met the Itadori grandfather and grandson, in a certain unknown, hidden stronghold.
Inside a tea room filled with Japanese Aesthetic and Zen Tranquility, yet faintly exuding an old, eerie atmosphere.
Kenjaku was currently parasitizing the brain of a gentle-mannered woman, elegantly kneeling on a Zabuton. Her pale fingers were turning over a document containing top-secret intelligence, which had just arrived through a special channel.
The content was a detailed report about Toho Hiroshi single-handedly slaughtering The Higher-Ups of the Jujutsu World and his defection from Tokyo Jujutsu High after a fierce battle with Gojo Satoru.
As she read it carefully, her usual, perfect, gentle smile, like a Noh Mask, gradually faded, and her slender eyebrows furrowed almost imperceptibly, revealing a trace of genuine, unfeigned surprise.
"Oh? This is a completely unexpected development."
Her voice was soft, with the inherent charm of a female body, but the contemplation and calculation in her tone remained as cold as ever.
"Toho Hiroshi, Gojo Satoru's peer, the young man with strange eyes. He actually reached this point? Slaughtering The Higher-Ups, breaking with Gojo Satoru... This is far more intense and thorough than Suguru Geto's 'defection' was predicted to be."
She put down the scroll, her fingertips lightly tapping the table, falling into rapid thought.
"What was the motive? According to the intelligence, he seemed to have pointed out the corruption of The Higher-Ups and some kind of 'infiltration'."
"Did he sense something? Or did his eyes see more 'truths', leading him to take such extreme measures?"
Just then, the sliding door of the tea room was silently pushed open, and a short figure, dressed in a traditional kimono, with a delicate but expressionless face, exuding a chilling aura, and sporting a bob haircut—Uraume—slowly walked in.
Uraume's gaze fell directly on the scroll in Kenjaku's hand, and her cold voice was like shattering ice: "Judging by your reaction, you've received interesting news? About that sensational Special Grade Curse User, Toho Hiroshi?"
Kenjaku looked up, gently pushing the scroll towards Uraume, a mysterious, faint smile returning to her face: "Yes, Uraume. On our chessboard, an uncontrolled but incredibly powerful piece has suddenly appeared. His actions have disrupted many established rhythms."
Uraume quickly scanned the contents, and even on her perpetually frozen face, a subtle ripple of emotion flickered.
"Massacring The Higher-Ups, that is indeed ruthless. His eyes truly hide extraordinary power. To be able to escape after a direct confrontation with Gojo Satoru, his strength has probably far surpassed Special Grade."
Uraume analyzed calmly, then looked at Kenjaku, "You don't seem entirely worried?"
"Worried? Of course, somewhat."
Kenjaku admitted frankly, taking a sip of tea, "Such a powerful variable, whose actions are unpredictable, could disrupt some of our long-established plans."
"Even the cursed womb: death paintings I left behind 150 years ago were taken by him, which makes me wonder what he intends to do, and if he knows some things about me."
Her tone shifted, and a glint of intrigued light flashed in her eyes: "But from another perspective, this might also be an excellent opportunity. The Jujutsu World's Higher-Ups have suffered severe damage, the old order is crumbling, and the prelude to chaos has already begun. This is much earlier than we anticipated, but chaos is the breeding ground we are most familiar with."
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