Chapter 33

Though it was a simple sentence, it felt as if it had tipped the scales in Satoru Gojo’s heart. Takizawa Sei felt as though he had received the response he longed for, and he could barely suppress a laugh even while being escorted through the Jujutsu Headquarters under the wary, hostile gazes of several officials.

The Jujutsu Headquarters: an organization formed by agreements between the Three Great Families and the government.

Inside, Takizawa encountered an acquaintance—someone he remembered from a few chance meetings back at the Gojo estate. The man’s gaze held a bone-deep reverence, though it was vaguely clear that this awe was not directed at Takizawa himself, but rather at the force he represented.

"Truly disgusting."

As Takizawa entered the room designated for his examination, he heard the man who had opened the door for him mutter these words in a trembling voice. The man clearly had not intended for anyone to hear, his voice kept extremely low, like a sigh of irrepressible disdain born from the heart.

Having been insulted, Takizawa decided to shatter the man’s composure.

"It’s very rude to say such things to someone you’re meeting for the first time," Takizawa said, stopping in his tracks. The men following him shifted their focus toward the staff member who had opened the door.

The man in the suit stiffened, his expression filled with revulsion. He forced himself to say, "Apologies. I am simply more sensitive to these things."

The aura emanating from Takizawa Sei was exactly like that of a walking curse.

It was no longer at the level of a common Grade 2 or 3 curse. Grade 1? Above Grade 1? No, he had absolutely touched the level of a Special Grade.

"Tch."

Takizawa turned his head away.

The man would likely receive a symbolic punishment—perhaps a salary deduction or a letter of reflection? After all, they had to keep up appearances.

Gojo Satoru’s backing was truly convenient. Takizawa now sat comfortably on a stool in front of a small desk. The room was bright, and the atmosphere felt like an entrance exam for a transfer student—had it not been for the large, reinforced glass partition, the kind typically used for interrogating prisoners in a jail.

He should be grateful; they hadn't shackled his hands and feet, nor had they covered him in bizarre curse seals.

Inside the room, glances laced with gunpowder collided. Several examiners who had entered through another door communicated silently with one another. Takizawa stared at their faces and, sure enough, spotted the familiar face he had encountered earlier.

"Takizawa, it’s been a long time."

It was a member of the Gojo family. Takizawa still remembered his name; he used to be responsible for handling the trivial matters surrounding Satoru Gojo. Takizawa addressed him as Mr. Hiroya.

He was an old acquaintance with whom he had shared a long history.

"Long time no see," Takizawa said, his eyes curving into crescents. "Even after ten years, you still look very young."

"Thank you." Gojo Hiroya twitched the corner of his mouth impassively. "My task is to examine your memories. I believe I am the most qualified person to conduct this audit, aside from your closest friends."

Knowing how to speak properly in front of his colleagues, he got straight to the point: "How much do you remember of your life before you died?"

The young man with azure eyes raised his hand in protest. "Could we avoid using the term 'before you died'?"

"..."

"I’m not dead right now, nor have I been reincarnated. I don't have any memories of a 'previous life'."

"...Then, may I ask, how much do you remember of the events from nine years ago?"

"Everything," Takizawa said, firm and decisive. "I remember everything."

The examiners sent to oversee the process all wore expressions of astonishment.

"If it is 'everything'... then please recall and recount your experiences as meticulously as possible."

Takizawa immediately wore an expression of shock and repulsion.

"That’s the examination? That would take three days and three nights just to get through!" He imagined having to tell the 'oranges'—the elderly elders—about the eight years he spent glued to Satoru Gojo, and he felt a wave of distress. "Why don't you just make me write an autobiographical memoir—"

The request was indeed difficult to complete in a short time, and the elders realized this.

What they actually wanted to understand was Takizawa Sei’s concept of good and evil.

Even intelligent cursed spirits, monsters that mimic human speech and behavior, would inevitably reveal flaws. Their perspectives on things were always different from ordinary people, possessing a chilling, inhuman quality.

A minute later, several test papers were placed in front of Takizawa.

[—Please analyze: What emotion is the author expressing in this passage?]

[—Please answer: Why did the author describe the water droplets falling from the lotus leaf in this scene?]

[—Please imagine: What should the protagonist say to his mother at this moment?]

Takizawa: "..."

What? What do you want me to do?

High school test papers? High school literature analysis questions?

Takizawa flicked the papers, the white sheets still smelling of printer ink fluttering as they curled and straightened. "What is this? An exam where I die if I answer incorrectly?"

"Don't be nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"...We simply wish to test your cognitive patterns."

"Why don't you just say you're testing my ability to take a written exam?"

Rinya Ebiya, who was staying in the room with Takizawa, couldn't help but interject, "This is basic emotional interpretation."

Takizawa picked up a pen and began to write his answers rapidly. With the excellent cultural literacy that had helped him pass the entrance exam for the Transmigration Bureau, he was determined to fill out a perfect paper!

Time ticked by, and on the other side of the glass, the elders whispered among themselves.

"More than I imagined..."

"He looks just like an ordinary person."

"Yet he was clearly cursed to death, harboring resentment and unwillingness, only to return by hitching a ride on the power of the Six Eyes."

During this time, Shoko Ieiri’s research findings were brought to them.

A comprehensive check of Takizawa Sei’s body showed no difference from a human.

That was why he hadn't been discovered in the hospital for so long—because there was nothing to discover.

His rapid healing ability came from his cursed energy; his entire body existed in a subtle state... seemingly maintaining a low-level Reverse Cursed Technique at all times.

"Doesn't that make him no different from a cursed spirit? Relying on cursed energy to restore oneself?"

There was no precedent for this situation. Unable to explain it, the elders developed a ridiculous, absurd premonition—they would have to create a new entry in the database just for Takizawa Sei.

"There is one scenario that could explain this phenomenon more perfectly," one staffer whispered. "That is, a Cursed Technique."

Another caught on immediately. "What if Takizawa Sei’s technique is resurrection from the dead?"

"Impossible," Gojo Hiroya reflexively countered. Only after the denial did he realize how rash he had been. He furrowed his brows, as if holding onto an unspeakable secret. "Takizawa Sei... he has no other innate technique. His greatest ability is breaking the Limitless when touching Satoru Gojo, but the Gojo clan head has more than just the Limitless in his repertoire."

Gojo Satoru’s physical prowess was extraordinary, too.

Meanwhile, Takizawa had just finished a test paper, which was promptly collected by Rinya Ebiya.

Rinya looked at his answers. The young man’s handwriting was neat and delicate, not sharp or aggressive. Based on stereotypes, this looked like the handwriting of a sensitive and considerate person.

He had spent very little time thinking, putting pen to paper without the slightest hesitation.

Rinya swallowed hard.

This was entirely—a living, breathing human being!

***

Takizawa Sei stayed there until the afternoon.

During that time, he grew hungry and, after repeated protests, was given a portion of instant rice.

"So stingy," Takizawa grumbled.

The final test was on strength. They were as cautious as if they were recording every piece of data on Takizawa’s entire existence. Takizawa complied obediently, but perhaps because he was too easy to talk to, the examination protocols proposed by the elders became increasingly absurd, until the final request, which Takizawa refused without a second thought.

"You want me to open my Domain?"

The azure-eyed youth, who was nearly being labeled a Special Grade, scratched his messily colored hair. "No way. It burns my brain; I’ll cough up blood if I open it."

He added, "If I cough up blood, Satoru will tear you all apart."

The examiners: "..."

He was right.

For the last fifteen minutes in the headquarters, Takizawa had nothing to do but wait for the results. Inevitably, he felt anxious, knowing that Satoru was waiting for him outside. As soon as he heard there was nothing left for him to do, Takizawa turned to leave.

"Takizawa-san."

Standing in the hallway, Takizawa turned around. Gojo Hiroya was gazing at him with a complex look, as if he wanted to have a serious conversation.

"What is it?"

Takizawa had nothing to discuss with him.

However, the man’s next sentence caused Takizawa to freeze in place, a strange feeling rising within him.

"Welcome back."

The brat from those years ago—now, even he had to use honorifics.

Gojo Hiroya drifted into a melancholic train of thought. "Regardless of anything else, your return is an absolute miracle for the clan head—a piece of good news so overwhelming it could knock someone senseless."

Why did he have to bring that up?

Takizawa: "Thank you, I know."

"There are some things you likely don't know," Gojo Hiroya said, choosing his words carefully. "The high-ranking officials involved in that incident were not simply dismissed, and Master Kago also left the Gojo family during that period."

Takizawa hadn't known the details of how Gojo Satoru had purged the family. Satoru always said that period was particularly chaotic; perhaps the sorrow was so deep that he couldn't even bring himself to mention it.

Hearing the name Gojo Kago again, Takizawa’s eyes flickered. "Where did Gojo Kago run off to?"

The middle-aged man opposite him seemed somewhat despondent.

He said, "He is the leader of 'A'."

Takizawa’s eyes widened in surprise. "His current goal is—" The end of the sentence faded away unclearly; Takizawa couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"Yes," Gojo Hiroya said hoarsely. "He harbors hatred toward Mr. Satoru."

***

The curse-user group 'A'—the organization that had attempted the most assassinations against Gojo Satoru.

Takizawa Sei stepped out of the elevator alone and, sure enough, saw a familiar figure sitting in the lobby.

He let out a sigh of relief, as if finally stepping out of the dust of annoyance, and called out, "Satoru."

Gojo Satoru moved his gaze away from the magazine in his hands, looked up, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Finished?"

"Finished. The oranges gave me a pile of messy test questions."

Takizawa studied the strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

Satoru had changed his clothes. The brands of his shirt and trousers were ones they had loved to wear since they were children; judging by the price, the outfit was quite precious. The white-haired youth had also put on the sunglasses he only wore when trying to look cool in his leisure time. His hair, slightly styled, looked very sharp. Takizawa stared at his lips for a long time, and, refusing to believe his own senses, reached out to touch them.

Gojo Satoru, who had just been about to speak, paused as his lips were touched. "...What are you doing?"