"I'm not like you; I can't carry people with me," Satoru Gojo said with a grin.
"Hahaha, you're truly a piece of work, Satoru. You can tell yourself that lie, but don't actually believe it," Ming said in a sarcastically mocking tone.
"Pfft!"
Hearing this, Shoko almost spat out her drink. "Tell yourself that lie, but don't believe it"—Ming is definitely a master of sarcasm.
"If we're talking about being a 'piece of work,' you're far worse," Gojo countered, unfazed. Then, his tone shifted. "Ming, how about another contest?"
"Oh? I'm listening," Ming asked curiously.
"Guess when Suguru will get here," Gojo proposed.
"Scum," Shoko whispered under her breath.
"That's not right. After all, Suguru is our dear friend," Ming said with a conflicted expression.
Shoko nodded at this. It seemed Ming's "toxicity" was reserved only for Gojo.
"One million yen. Thirty-five minutes," Gojo placed his bet.
"Two million. Thirty minutes," Ming instantly countered the moment Gojo put the money down.
Shoko's eye twitched as she thought to herself: Scum.
Masamichi Yaga watched them with a slight smile, feeling relieved. He hadn't expected them to bond so quickly in just one day. As their teacher, this was exactly what he wanted to see. What satisfied him most was Ming's remark: "Suguru is our dear friend."
It seemed like a simple sentence, but it proved Ming had already accepted Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo. Judging by Gojo's lack of a negative reaction, he had clearly accepted them as well. Despite his carefree attitude, Gojo was incredibly proud. Since birth, he'd had no real friends other than Shoko—not because people didn't try to befriend him, but because he didn't deem them worthy.
Yaga knew that the moment Gojo called Ming and Suguru by their first names, they were in his inner circle.
About thirty-two minutes later, Suguru Geto finally arrived. The moment he walked in and saw the two sitting there, his anger flared.
"Hello, Yaga-sensei," Geto greeted his teacher first, then took an empty seat. But the next sentence he heard sent his blood pressure through the roof.
"Stop! It looks like I win again, Satoru," Ming said, looking at a stopwatch in his hand.
"Wait a second, Ming!" Gojo pulled out his own stopwatch. "Thirty-two minutes and forty-three seconds. No matter how you look at it, I'm the winner."
"Hmph." Looking at Gojo's punchable, smug face, Ming looked genuinely annoyed.
"Hahaha!" Gojo laughed triumphantly.
"What's there to be proud of? It's just one win," Ming said flatly, but the sourness in his voice suggested he was anything but calm.
"You two have had enough, you bastards!" Suguru Geto snarled through gritted teeth.
"Suguru, Satoru was the one who suggested it. I was going to refuse; if you don't believe me, ask Shoko," Ming said with an air of righteous indignation.
"You were definitely not like that at the time!" Gojo protested.
"Both of you... just go die!" Geto's handsome face distorted as he began to manifest Cursed Spirits.
"Knock it off, Suguru! And you two, quiet down!" Yaga felt his headache returning. Dealing with one Satoru Gojo was bad enough, but now he had Ming and Geto adding to the chaos.
Damn those liars! Who wrote these files? "Mature and steady" (Ming)? "Gentle and sensible" (Suguru)? I'm going to kill whoever compiled this data! Yaga roared inwardly.
Seeing Yaga on the verge of an explosion, the three immediately sat up straight, looking like perfectly behaved children.
The food arrived, and everyone began to eat. Soon, the conversation turned back to the day's events.
"By the way, Ming, what was that technique that made you like a ghost?" Geto asked. Everyone turned to look at Ming.
"It's called Kamui," Ming said. The group stared blankly—he had said the name, but it explained nothing.
Seeing their confusion, Ming wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I'll explain it from the beginning." After spending the day with them, Ming had come to respect his classmates and had no intention of hiding his core abilities.
Ming closed his eyes. When he opened them, his black pupils had shifted into the Three-Tomoe Sharingan.
"First, this is the base form of my eyes: the Sharingan. It has three primary abilities."
"Three?" Yaga was intrigued.
"Yes. Some functions are similar to Satoru's Six Eyes. First is Insight. It enhances my dynamic vision and allows me to see the flow of Cursed Energy. It also improves my energy control, though it's not as precise as the Six Eyes, and I don't have Satoru's $360^{\circ}$ field of vision."
"Pfft, so it's just a 'lite' version of my eyes," Gojo said dismissively.
"Shut up, Satoru! Do you want to hear the rest or not? That was just the first ability," Ming barked.
"What? You said there were three, and that covered it!" Gojo tried to recall Ming's phrasing.
"Quiet! Second is Genjutsu—the ability I used on Shoko. Anyone who makes eye contact with me can be plunged into an illusion instantly. Against low-grade Curses, I can even take direct control of them."
"So, it's somewhat like my ability? Like that fox?" Geto asked.
"Not exactly. My control is temporary and maintained through ocular power. I can't absorb them like your Cursed Spirit Manipulation, nor can I control hundreds at once. I can only manage a few," Ming explained.
"The third is Copying. This applies mainly to Taijutsu; I can perfectly replicate any physical movement I see with these eyes. I can also copy simple techniques. The lightning I used this morning was a copy of Electrical Current Manipulation, but copying Innate Techniques is mostly useless for me. I'll explain why in a bit."
"That's terrifying," Yaga said, genuinely shocked. Copying both physical moves and techniques was a massive advantage.
Satoru Gojo wasn't as impressed; he could technically do something similar. The Six Eyes allowed him to see techniques at a molecular level, making imitation easy. He even knew that if he mastered Reverse Cursed Technique, he could potentially land a Black Flash at will. However, even Gojo couldn't copy an Innate Technique...