"Thank goodness! Do you know how I've been worrying about you?"
An agitated cry erupted from the teacher's mouth the moment she spotted Yoichi alive and kicking. Although his white coat had been stashed away, his uniform blazer was another story, looking noticeably drenched in soot and grime.
The teacher had been so consumed by worry that she was on the verge of calling the authorities. By the time Yoichi finally arrived, a huge sigh of relief escaped from her lips, her shoulders slumping as the tension broke.
"I'm very sorry, Sensei! I was just helping a grandma right here who was lost," a quick, sheepish excuse was offered by Yoichi to explain his overtime.
"I'm very thankful for this child..." The grandmother laughed, her voice warm and authentic.
"No, grandma! I'm just glad that he could be helpful to you," A polite response was returned from the teacher, her concern replaced by a sense of pride in her student.
The back-and-forth excessive politeness ensued between the elderly and the sensei.
While they were occupied, a pensive hand was used by Yoichi to stroke his chin, his mind already drifting back to the earlier incident.
Though he was somewhat curious about the Oni's appearance, a wave of physical fatigue settled over him.
Yoichi had expended a massive amount of Demonic Energy in the fight against the Oni, burning through over 70% of his stored reserves just to ensure the creature was overwhelmed in every possible aspect.
The regeneration of this energy was a taxing grind.
Unlike Cursed Energy, which flowed from negative emotions, this primal force required his mind to act as a conversion table, a mental processing task that left him feeling drained.
In his case, Stylish Showtime functioned as his Cursed Technique.
Under normal circumstances, he could manifest the predetermined styles and weapons of the legendary Devil Hunter through Cursed Energy, but the output was effectively nerfed—the "lite" version of a god-tier power.
However, the game changed when the CT was augmented by Demonic Energy.
This primal power granted him staggering benefits in every category: strength, speed, perception, and a level of physical regeneration so potent it made RCT look like a basic first-aid kit.
To Yoichi, the internal logic followed a specific chart: Yoichi's RCT = (CE x CE) = DE -> Augmentation of CT -> Demonic Output.
For sure, a potential mitigation for this mental strain existed. He could cycle his energy to refresh his brain 24/7, much like the technique Satoru Gojo perfected with his own CT and RCT.
But in his defense, the current limitations were merely a hurdle on the path to something greater. It wouldn't be too long before a complete unlock of the styles, granting him the true, unfiltered power of the Son of Sparda bloodline.
The simulation studio still had plenty of secrets to offer, and each battle brought him closer to the Demonic state that lay dormant in his origins.
Now... you've gone and done it. It won't be too long until the big fish find you.
Inside the Wonderspace, Toji lounged with a lazy posture, though his voice carried an edge of amusement.
That's the goal, isn't it? Yoichi replied inwardly, his mental voice sounding far more tired than he let on. Gojo-sensei should be the first to pick up the scent. I need him to know.
Sensei? A skeptical eyebrow was raised by Toji. I thought you'd be cocky as usual... Now you're looking for a teacher?
There are many more things to learn in this world, even for someone like me.
As they say, you can't lay all your eggs in one basket. Am I right... Toji-sensei?
Yoichi countered, a faint smirk appearing.
A brief silence followed the remark.
Toji blinked, the title hanging in the air like a challenge before a laugh escaped from his chest.
It wasn't a kind laugh, but one of genuine, begrudging respect.
Don't get sentimental on me, kid. It's disgusting.
A collective nod was shared among the Wonderspace's residents; it was a typical moment of unity, born from their long association with Yoichi's peculiar brand of madness.
Soon enough, the field trip concluded after four grueling hours. The radiant sun continually lost its afternoon anger, its harsh glare softening into a bruised amber glow that painted the ancient, beautiful constructs of Kyoto in shifting shadows.
A weary but satisfied energy permeated the atmosphere as the group began the trek back to the inn.
...
...
...
"Why didn't you chase him?"
A grating growl escaped from Gakuganji's throat as he turned his gaze toward Satoru.
He stood amidst the wreckage, his fingers twitching near the strings of his guitar case.
Immense energy fluctuations and frantic reports drew them to the coordinates.
Gojo arrived first, his Six Eyes taking in a sight that defied his vast knowledge: Yoichi was dismantling a mythological entity that existed merely on the annals of history.
By the time the others caught up, the performance had ended, leaving an environment of utter devastation.
"Chase him?" Gojo asked, a playful hum vibrating in his chest. "I memorized his appearance in my mind. Now, we need to set the net and wait for the fish to bite."
I'm left with no choice, Yoichi-kun... you're such a massive troublemaker.
"Stop playing around!" Gakuganji's voice rose over the settling dust. "This is our chance to capture this anomaly! This energy... this creature! Nothing makes sense regarding that boy's appearance!"
At this point, Gakuganji felt exasperated.
Between the remains of the beast and the reports from the surviving sorcerers, he knew this matter would spiral.
The anomaly they had been chasing for a long time finally left blatant tracks right before his eyes.
The appearance of an Oni added to the confusion. Though Gakuganji had lived for decades, this was his first time witnessing the remains of a mythological creature documented in the ancient annals of history.
The logic of their world was failing.
"Spill it... you know about a thing or two, right?"
A nudge was delivered by Utahime, her elbow striking Satoru's arm.
Shock colored her features as she looked at the remains; this event was subverting her knowledge of the Jujutsu world.
"Me? Really? I don't know either," Satoru replied, though his tone remained suspiciously light. "But we could deduce facts and gather information about the child. Maybe he has some clues?"
Ever since Satoru met the kid, he knew that Yoichi would be extraordinary.
Expectations were exceeded, however.
Mythological creatures were now reborn in the boy's presence, a development that left Gojo with a singular path.
He had to capture Yoichi-kun.
This event marked the arrival of something different and archaic, to the point where the environment itself leaked a suffocating energy.
A heavy silence followed as frigid winds blew across what used to be a forest, now reduced to a patch of dirty, scorched grasslands.
"Lock this perimeter first, then we'll go. Let's confront this...anomaly before he escapes."
A hardened look appeared through Gakuganji's face as he surveyed the devastation.
Suspicion toward Satoru still simmered in his mind, but he recognized that all necessary information resided with the anomaly itself.
He couldn't afford to let such a volatile variable wander freely through Kyoto.
"Oohh, how scary~ the old man is fired up."
Gojo replied as he followed Gakuganji, his hands behind his head in a relaxed posture.
"Stop being a brat! This isn't one of your field trips," Utahime snapped, her footsteps quickening to keep pace with the elder.
"A creature of that magnitude appearing in the heart of Kyoto is a catastrophic failure of security. You're acting like it's a parade!"
"Maybe it is a parade! A one-man show with excellent catering," Satoru quipped, a playful grin appearing on his face.
"An anomaly that uses unknown energy is a threat to the foundation of the Jujutsu world..."
"I'm warning you, if I find any evidence that you have an involvement in this... I'll report every detail back to the higher-ups personally!"
Gakuganji stopped suddenly and turned his head as his gaze felt piercing through any form of lies and deceit.
Satoru merely laughed, the sound echoing through the desolate, scorched grasslands.
A wave of genuine amusement escaped from his throat as he doubled over.
"The higher-ups? Who cares about that?"
"They can write as many reports as they want. It won't change the fact that the world is getting bigger than their little reports can handle. Now, are we going to stand here and talk about paperwork, or are we going to catch our 'chef'?"
Soon enough, the three arrived at the inn, fully prepared for a peaceful confrontation.
A group of sorcerers stood ready, positioned to cover every exit while personnel remained on standby outside, effectively turning the peaceful lodging into a fortified cage.
The tension in the air was thick enough to choke the regular students, though most remained oblivious to the surrounding of their building.
"Is Yoichi Murakami here?"
The stern voice of a Kyoto official cut through the evening calm.
A heavy silence filled the hallway as the teacher gave a hesitant nod of approval, her face pale with confusion and apprehension.
Upon hearing the summons, a playful smile appeared on Yoichi's face. He stood up from his seat, brushing a few stray crumbs from his uniform as if he were simply being called for a routine head-count.
You really know how to draw a crowd, kid.
Let's just say that it was... a welcoming surprise, Toji-Sensei.
"Yoichi, isn't? Please come with us," an official said, his voice authoritative.
Yoichi stepped out into the hallway, his golden eyes meeting Gojo's hidden gaze.
The hallway felt narrow under the collective pressure of the high-ranking sorcerers, yet the boy walked with a nonchalant stride that bordered on a taunt.