Chapter 93: The New World Awaits You
Following a dazzling flash of red light, Gojo Satoru stood before Geto Suguru. His Azure Eyes held none of the usual wildness or mockery, only cold scrutiny and a hint of deep-seated pain.
The cold wind swept across the silent training grounds, kicking up fine dust and carrying faint cries from the distance.
"Toho, why didn't he appear?"
Gojo Satoru's voice was calm but carried an undeniable accusation, "With his ability, if he truly wanted to stop you, you wouldn't have even had the chance to step into Jujutsu High. This Night Parade of One Hundred Demons was tacitly approved by him, wasn't it?"
Geto Suguru lay on the cold ground, his life rapidly draining away with his blood.
Hearing his sworn friend's question, the scattered light in his eyes weakly refocused. He struggled to pull his lips into a complex curve, mixing mockery, relief, and a certain indescribable anticipation.
"Satoru... you truly... have grown."
He gasped, his voice faint yet clear, "You are no longer easily misled by appearances..."
He neither directly denied nor admitted anything.
A violent cough interrupted his words, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
He caught his breath, his gaze seemingly piercing through Gojo Satoru toward a more distant dimension, one unreachable by ordinary people.
"But... the answer... no longer matters."
Geto Suguru's eyes gradually became vacant, yet held a strange certainty, "My path... reaches its end... at this moment. But your paths... are only just beginning to diverge..."
Using his last ounce of strength, he focused on Gojo Satoru's eyes, which seemed capable of seeing through everything, and said deliberately, word by word, "I will be waiting for you... in the New World."
This sentence was like a final curse, carrying the nature of an ominous prophecy.
It did not explain Toho Hiroshi's absence but instead directed everything toward a larger, more unknown "New World."
This was both Geto Suguru's final interpretation of his ideals and a declaration to everyone, including Gojo Satoru and perhaps Toho Hiroshi.
Gojo Satoru's pupils slightly contracted.
"The New World?"
He repeated the term, his mind instantly flashing back to the occasional fragments Toho Hiroshi had revealed—words that transcended the current structure of the Jujutsu World—and the almost devout anticipation in Geto Suguru's eyes at this moment.
A vague and terrifying conjecture formed in his mind—Geto Suguru's madness might not have stemmed solely from his own "great cause," but could be tied to Toho Hiroshi's even more unfathomable plan.
He wanted to ask more, but Geto Suguru's breath was already like a flickering candle in the wind, and the light in his eyes rapidly dimmed.
The complex smile finally froze on his face, carrying a sense of fulfilled peace, and leaving endless mysteries for the living.
Gojo Satoru stood silently, watching the gradually cooling body of his former sworn friend, surrounded by the chaotic sounds of the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons that had yet to fully subside.
Snowflakes quietly drifted down, covering Geto Suguru, as if trying to cleanse the bloodshed and sorrow of the place.
"The New World..."
Gojo Satoru muttered softly, frost coalescing in his Azure Eyes, and an unprecedented sense of solemnity and resolve quietly arose.
He knew that Geto Suguru's death was far from the end, but rather the prelude to a much greater storm.
And what role was the figure wearing the swirl mask and possessing the Rinnegan playing in this impending storm?
He raised his head, looking toward the gray sky, as if trying to pierce the clouds and stare directly into the abyss hidden behind the scenes.
"Suguru, what exactly is this 'New World' you wanted?"
And what did Geto Suguru's final promise of waiting mean?
All answers pointed toward Toho Hiroshi, the man who had never shown his face throughout the entire incident.
The cold wind, carrying scattered snowflakes, swept across the silent Jujutsu High.
Gojo Satoru stood rooted to the spot like a cold sculpture. Only his Six Eyes detected the Residual Cursed Energy that had not yet fully dispersed in the air, along with the trace of Geto Suguru's final life flow.
Footsteps approached from the distance, carrying a hint of imperceptible exhaustion.
Ieiri Shoko walked over, wearing a white coat stained with specks of blood.
She had clearly just finished a frantic race against death, and her body still carried the mixed scent of disinfectant and faint tobacco. Her gaze swept over Geto Suguru's remains on the ground; her expression was complex—pity, numbness, and finally, a nearly inaudible sigh.
She walked up beside Gojo Satoru, not looking at his face, but gazing down at their deceased former companion. Her voice was slightly hoarse as she asked, "Do you want me to handle his body?"
Customarily, the remains of a Special Grade Curse User, especially one of Geto Suguru's caliber, would need to be handled by her—the Jujutsu World's top doctor—for autopsy, analysis, and possibly sealing or special disposal, just in case.
Gojo Satoru was silent for a few seconds before slowly shaking his head. His voice was low but unusually firm: "No, Shoko. Geto's remains... I will handle them myself."
Hearing this, Shoko finally turned her head to look at Gojo Satoru. His sunglasses obscured his eyes, but she could sense that what lay behind them was far from calm.
She frowned, seemingly wanting to say something—that this didn't follow regulations, perhaps, or that there might be risks—but in the end, she simply hummed softly, choosing to respect the decision of the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer, and to respect their former bond as classmates.
She understood Gojo Satoru; when he spoke in that tone, it meant there was no room for negotiation.
"Alright, have it your way."
Shoko pulled a cigarette pack from her pocket, shook one out, lit it, and took a deep drag, as if trying to dispel the heaviness in her chest.
White smoke curled upward in the cold air.
She watched Gojo Satoru bend down and, with an almost gentle movement, lift Geto Suguru's now-cold body into his arms.
Geto Suguru, who always smiled like a fox and spoke of strange great causes, was now terrifyingly quiet.
Just as Gojo Satoru was about to turn and leave, Shoko suddenly spoke. Her voice was very soft, yet it pierced the solidified air like a needle: "Satoru."
Gojo Satoru paused his steps.
"What about Toho?"
Shoko exhaled a smoke ring, her gaze unfocused as she looked toward the still chaotic sky in the distance, "How do you... view him now?"
This was a question she had held back for a long time.
From Geto Suguru's defection to Toho Hiroshi's mysterious disappearance, and now to today's Night Parade of One Hundred Demons—an unprecedented but bizarre event initiated by Geto Suguru—the man possessing the Rinnegan, who should have had the power to stop it all, never showed up.
As one of the formerly closest quartet, and as someone who had shared intimacy and brief warmth with Toho Hiroshi, Shoko couldn't help but ponder this question.
More than anyone else, she could feel that Toho Hiroshi's shadow was definitely behind Geto Suguru's actions today.
Gojo Satoru, holding Geto Suguru's corpse and with his back to Shoko, remained silent for a moment.
Snowflakes fell on his white hair and Geto Suguru's dark monk robes, quickly melting away.
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