As the sharp whistle signaling the end of the group battle pierced the forest sky, the massive "Curtain" began to slowly dissipate. Students from both sides walked out of the dim woodlands one after another, their conditions contrasting like clouds and mud.
The students from the Kyoto School were mostly in a sorry state. Their clothes were torn, their bodies bore varying degrees of abrasions and traces of Cursed Energy impact, and their faces were written with exhaustion, humiliation, and a deep sense of defeat.
Teacher Kurosaki Hiroki's face was livid as he hurried forward to check on the students' conditions, questioning them in a low voice.
On the high platform, Principal Gakuganji Yoshinobu's face was so gloomy it could practically wring out water. The peculiarly shaped cane in his hand cracked under his grip, clearly indicating his extreme rage.
The rules he had deliberately added became a pale, powerless joke in the face of Tokyo School's completely unreasonable absolute strength.
Kamo Kenji panted slightly, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked at the Tokyo School group not far away, whose breathing was steady as if they had just finished a morning exercise—especially the calm-faced Mukyoku Nagi—and his gaze became extremely complicated.
There was undisguised dread, the shock of having his tactics completely seen through, and the humiliation of being utterly suppressed despite being from one of the Big Three Families. Yet, even deeper, a strong unwillingness and increasingly intense curiosity surged—those eyes, that power, what exactly was going on?
Nishimura Kenta lowered his head deeply, fists clenched tightly, nails nearly digging into his palms.
The crushing defeat in the group battle was like a basin of ice water, chilling all his confidence and determination to the core. It made him realize with incomparable clarity the despairing chasm between himself and truly top-tier geniuses. That gap wasn't merely in the strength of their Cursed Techniques, but a fundamental, all-encompassing crushing.
The atmosphere on the Tokyo School side was relaxed, even a bit playful.
"Easy peasy~"
Gojo Satoru stretched lazily, the word "bored" written all over his face beneath his sunglasses. "Kyoto School was even weaker than I imagined. It was like bullying little kids, right, Suguru?"
Geto Suguru was silently inspecting his "harvest" from this trip—a considerable number of Cursed Spirit orbs. His usual gentle smile seemed somewhat stiff and green—mostly because he had already begun to mentally taste that terrible "rag" flavor in advance.
He subconsciously reached into his pocket again but came up empty. The candy was exhausted. He couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh filled with despair.
"Good job! Although it looked completely like you three were just messing around..."
Iori Utahime tried hard to put on the reserved appearance of a senior, but the joy hiding in the corners of her eyes and brows betrayed her.
Mei Mei smiled, her gaze lingering on Geto Suguru for two extra seconds: "Very efficient 'resource recovery' strategy, Geto-student. Impressive."
Her tone sounded like sincere praise, but it always gave the impression she was calculating how much commission those Cursed Spirits could be converted into.
Ieiri Shoko walked up to Nagi, looked him up and down, and asked casually: "Didn't lose an arm or a leg, right?"
Nagi shook his head, but his gaze was cast toward the retreating Kyoto School team, sweeping over Kamo Kenji and Nishimura Kenta, who wore different expressions. His eyes were deep, pondering something unknown.
The referee began to read the final score statistics expressionlessly and announced the identity of the "Special Value Team Member." As expected, this setting aimed at increasing variables proved meaningless, even somewhat comical, in the face of Tokyo School's crushing shutout victory (Kyoto School failed to eliminate a single person from Tokyo School).
"Group Battle Final Result: Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School, Victory."
A relaxed cheer erupted from the Tokyo School side (mainly Gojo Satoru and Utahime), while the Kyoto School side fell into a deathly silence.
Principal Gakuganji stood up abruptly, the wooden platform creaking under the strain.
He looked at Yaga Masamichi with a sinister gaze, squeezing a sentence through his teeth: "Principal Yaga, truly... excellent teaching. I hope in the upcoming individual battles, these 'outstanding' students of yours can maintain this 'ease'!"
The chill in his words could almost cause frostbite. After speaking, without waiting for a response, he slammed his cane down heavily and stormed off.
The Kyoto School students followed him, leaving dejectedly like defeated roosters.
When Kamo Kenji passed in front of the Tokyo School group, his steps paused imperceptibly.
He turned his head, his gaze once again looking straight at Mukyoku Nagi. This time, the formulaic smile on his face was gone. His voice was hoarse from the bitter battle and carried a trace of genuine gravity: "Mukyoku Nagi... you are strong. Your eyes indeed hide secrets. In the individual battle..."
He paused, a strong fighting spirit igniting in his eyes. "I look forward to formally engaging you."
Nishimura Kenta also mustered his courage, raised his head, and gave Nagi a complicated look. He said in a voice that wasn't loud but clear: "You... are very amazing. I saw a huge gap... but I will continue working hard to catch up!" After speaking, as if having exhausted all his courage, he immediately lowered his head and quickly caught up with the team.
Gojo Satoru watched their retreating backs, dug at his ear, and wore an expression of finding it troublesome: "Ha? Look forward to engaging? Who wants to look forward to that? The result will be just as boring anyway."
Geto Suguru finally broke free temporarily from the premonition of "Cursed Spirit Orb Taste Hell," rubbing his aching forehead: "It's finally over... Satoru, next time there's this kind of 'unlimited supply' activity, make sure to notify me in advance... I need to apply for a candy budget."
Shoko scoffed upon hearing this, teasing: "Do you need me to prescribe some special anti-nausea medicine or digestive aids right now? For the sake of being classmates, I can give you a discount."
Nagi silently watched the direction Kamo and Nishimura left, making no comment on their declarations of war and effort. Connections? He didn't deliberately cultivate them, but absolute strength itself was an existence impossible to ignore, naturally attracting followers and inviting challengers like the two poles of a magnet.
Yaga Masamichi watched the noisy retreating backs of his four problem students and raised a hand to rub his aching forehead.
Expect them to be nervous? Prepare for battle? Reflect?
Forget it.
That kid Gojo Satoru had been lawless since his first day of enrollment. His strength was ridiculously high, his personality was terrible, and he just had to have Geto Suguru beside him, sometimes mediating fights, sometimes fanning the flames.
Now there was also Mukyoku Nagi, usually silent but capable of punching the Zenin clan heir into the ICU when exploding... plus Ieiri Shoko, who enjoyed watching the chaos, had superb medical skills but a sharp tongue.
This team... was just unbelievable.
He had intended to give a few words of advice like "don't underestimate the enemy" and "be cautious in individual battles," but he swallowed the words back down.
Underestimate the enemy? Was what they just did underestimating the enemy? That was called rubbing the opponent's dignity and tactics into the ground!
Cautious? That word didn't exist in Gojo Satoru's dictionary!
Geto Suguru looked gentle, but his methods were ruthless!
Mukyoku Nagi... forget it, don't think about it.
Yaga ultimately just sighed heavily. That sigh was filled with powerlessness and a kind of "whatever, I can't control them anyway" resignation.
He muttered a sentence to their backs that only he could hear: "...Do whatever you want. Just don't completely demolish the venue."
What else could he say? The strongest?
These little monsters were more than just the strongest; they were trouble aggregates.
Individual battles? He just hoped no more crazy incidents would occur.
Although he knew this hope was extremely slim.
The four from Tokyo School walked toward the dormitory area. The setting sun stretched their shadows long behind them, intertwining together.
"How about sukiyaki tonight?" Gojo Satoru had one arm around Geto Suguru and tried to hook Nagi's shoulder with the other, proposing enthusiastically, "To celebrate our suspense-free victory..."
"For now... I don't want to eat anything..." Geto Suguru declined with a pale face.
"I just want to go back and catch up on sleep..." Shoko yawned again, tears of sleepiness seeping from the corners of her eyes.
Nagi did not participate in the discussion. He simply looked back subconsciously, taking one last look at the forest gradually returning to calm.
The group battle was over, but the exchange event had not yet concluded. The individual battles seemed likely to bring some different kinds of fun.
He clenched his fist lightly, feeling the Cursed Energy flowing ceaselessly within his body like an extension of his arm. The afterglow of the setting sun fell into his vermilion pupils, flashing with an extremely faint yet sharp light.
A crushing victory, achieved without controversy.
And the strength and unshakability of the Tokyo School first years had been etched into the hearts of all witnesses like a deep brand. In the near future, it would quickly spread throughout the entire Jujutsu world. Undercurrents were already quietly surging.