The breeze that swept through the cobblestone streets carried the unfamiliar chatter of a foreign tongue. It was peaceful. Annoyingly so.
Standing opposite a carriage hitched to a giant, reptilian beast, Satoru Gojo looked completely out of place. He was a statue of modern sleekness dropped into a world of dirt, grit, and high fantasy. His snow-white hair ruffled in the wind, drawing odd looks from passing demi-humans——people with animal ears and tails that his brain was still trying to categorize.
"Eh...?"
He blinked once, twice. Slowly, he reached up and slid his dark-tinted sunglasses down the bridge of his nose.
The moment his bare eyes met the world, the influx of information hit him. His Six Eyes processed the horizon at a speed that would have lobotomized a normal person. But what he saw made him frown.
He scanned the crowd, searching for the familiar hint of Cursed Energy. Nothing. No festering negative emotions, no curses lurking in the shadows. Instead, the air was saturated with a shimmering, almost pristine mist.
Mana. He focused on a passerby. Through the Six Eyes, the person's anatomy mapped out perfectly. He saw the 'Gate' and the 'Od' both at once.
Satoru pushed his glasses back up, cutting off the sensory overload.
"Okay... so thinking rationally... there's no cursed energy in the slightest," he muttered to himself, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Just mana. Furry people and medieval architecture." He sighed, the reality of the situation settling in. "If I were going to get thrown into another world, Suguru could've at least tagged along. This is gonna be a drag."
It might've been an under-reaction for a regular citizen, but as the literal pinnacle of Jujutsu, the idea of another world wasn't the most outlandish thing he could imagine.
He started walking, stopping briefly at a fruit stall to inspect a basket of red, apple-like produce. The price tag was written in swirling, nonsensical glyphs. He couldn't read it, but the language spoken around him was flawless Japanese. Strange.
"Hey, pops," Satoru said, flashing a smirk. "I'm a little short on the local currency. You take yen?"
The vendor, a burly man with a scarred face, scowled. "Nobody takes shoddy money like that! You look like a noble, but you got the wallet of a beggar. Beat it, brat!"
"Yikes, touchy," Satoru chuckled, tossing the fruit back. "Keep your hair on. I'm going."
He turned down a narrow alleyway, his mind drifting toward the massive castle looming in the distance.
Lugunica. Royal Capital. Fancy names for a place without a single vending machine.
His thoughts were cut short as three figures stepped out of the shadows, blocking his path.
One large, one thin, and one small.
It was such a tired cliché Satoru almost laughed out loud.
"Well, well——look what we have here!" the largest one grunted, cracking his knuckles.
"We're feelin' real nice today," the smallest added with an ugly grin. "So just cough up everything you've got... the fancy shades too and we'll let you walk!"
Satoru stopped. He tilted his head, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
"Yo. Are you guys sure about this? Seriously, how far have I fallen? Reduced to getting mugged by tutorial mobs."
"The hell did you say?!" The skinny one drew a pair of daggers. "Think you're better just 'cause you're dressed nice?!"
Satoru's grin widened into something entirely unsettling.
"Well, you said it, not me."
The skinny thug lunged.
To the onlookers, Satoru simply ceased to exist in that space. In the gap between heartbeats, he appeared alongside the thug, casting a long, terrifying shadow.
He rested a casual, but firm palm on the man's shoulder.
"You say something, man?"
The alley went ice-cold. Satoru let his glasses slide down just a fraction.
Behind the dark lenses, his eyes glowed with the terrifying, infinite expanse of a clear sky.
As if he were examining an insect.
"A-Ah, well..." The thug froze, his muscles locking up in sheer, instinctual terror.
Smarter than he looks, huh. I guess even bottom-level thugs in another world have decent survival instincts.
Satoru thought, patting the man's shoulder like a proud older brother.
"Wise choice. Scurry along now! Don't let me catch you playing bandit again."
The trio bolted, stumbling over their own feet in a desperate rush to escape.
Satoru sighed, adjusting his glasses.
"Boredom is the worst killer of all..."
"Are you alright there?"
The voice rang out like a struck bell——clear, noble, and carrying a weight Satoru recognized instantly.
He spun around, and for the first time since arriving, the Six Eyes screamed a genuine warning.
Crimson hair. Cerulean eyes. A man who looked like he had been forged from light and justice.
I didn't sense him until he spoke... must be the lack of cursed energy.
"Oh. Yeah, I'm fi—"
Satoru stopped. He looked over his glasses again, and his brain felt like it had been hit by a tidal wave.
What the hell is this guy?
The world itself seemed to bend over backward just to make sure this man didn't trip.
Divine Protection of this, Divine Protection of that… is he just made of buffs?
Satoru shoved his sunglasses back up with a grimace, rubbing his temple to ward off the headache.
"...Is everything alright?" the red-haired man asked, genuine concern masking his confusion.
This guy is a monster. Stronger than anyone back home, that's for sure. Maybe even Suguru.
Satoru took a breath, forcing down the battle-maniac urge to test the man's limits right here and now.
"Ahhhh~ Yep, perfectly fine. Just giving those guys a little fright before they did something they'd regret." Satoru said, his cocky grin returning.
"I see... I understand," the man replied with a slight bow. "I am Reinhard van Astrea, the current Sword Saint. Though, I hardly consider myself worthy of the title."
"I'm Satoru. Satoru Gojo. And don't sweat the title, Reinhard, you definitely look the part. Looking at you is like staring directly into the sun."
Reinhard blinked, momentarily taken aback by the bluntness. "Ah...? That is an analogy I've never heard, I must admit. Regardless, your attire is highly unusual, Satoru. You wouldn't happen to be searching for something too, would you?"
Gojo blinked, slightly confused off guard by Reinhard's words.
"Eh? Nah. Just a tourist who took a very wrong turn."
Reinhard opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly, his posture shifted. His eyes sharpened, locking onto the horizon.
"My apologies. It was nice meeting you, Gojo-san, but I have somewhere I need to be. There is a... disturbance in the slums."
"Sounds fun. I'll tag along," Satoru said, stretching his arms. "And drop the 'Gojo-san' crap. I get enough honorifics back home."
Reinhard paused, a small smile tugging at his lips. "...Very well, Satoru. Follow me, then. Though I will be moving with haste."
"I'm the last person you need to worry about keeping up." Satoru hummed, leaping onto the roof of the nearest building with zero effort.
—————————————————
Inside the loot house, the air was thick with the copper stench of blood and rotting wood.
"G-Grh!"
Natsuki Subaru was dying. His lungs burned, and his legs felt like lead. Every swing of the black knife was a death sentence he barely managed to evade. Elsa Granhiert moved like a shadow, her blade raised for a final, lethal strike.
Fate was about to reset once more——until a shard of ice shattered against the wall. Emilia's magic forced Elsa back, buying a few precious seconds.
"Nice cover!" Subaru yelled, though his body was covered in shallow cuts. He threw a desperate feint, aiming a kick at Elsa's ribs, but she caught his leg effortlessly.
"Hmmmm, that worked once, boy~ But what if I go a little faster?" Elsa whispered, her eyes dancing with murderous ecstasy.
"That's enough."
A calm, utterly bored voice echoed through the room.
The ceiling caved in. Dust and splintered wood rained down as two figures landed perfectly in the center of the tavern.
"Well then..." Reinhard stepped out of the debris, his smile unwavering. "That was a close call. I'm glad we made it in time."
Elsa's eyes widened, a twisted joy blooming on her face at the sight of the redhead. "Mmm… by 'we,' you mean——"
A blur of black and white cut her off.
Before Elsa could blink, a foot planted itself directly into her stomach. And rather unceremoniously, she was launched backward, smashing through the tavern's support beams and crashing out into the streets of the slums.
"Yeah. He's not alone." Satoru said, settling his foot back onto the floorboards.
Subaru stared, his jaw practically hitting the floor.
Who the hell is this guy? Designer sunglasses? What is he wearing?!
"No need to worry, Subaru. Although I must apologize for showing up rather late." Reinhard said, his hand resting comfortably on the hilt of his impressive weapon.
"Ah... forget about that, you're a lifesaver man..." Subaru wheezed, clutching a nasty gash on his arm. "I was about two seconds away from having my guts spilled on the floor."
"Indeed, this woman appears to be quite the formidable opponent, I've brought reinforcements." Reinhard said calmly.
Subaru's eyes darted to the tall, white-haired man who was currently adjusting his sunglasses, looking entirely unbothered.
"Reinforcements?!" Subaru choked out. "He looks like he got lost on his way to Harajuku! Are those designer shades?!"
"Careful, dude. These shades cost more than this entire neighborhood," Satoru shot back, entirely unfazed. "And for the record, I'm the guy who just saved your stomach."
Outside, the rubble shifted. Elsa Granhiert stood up and stepped back through the surrounding rubble of the destroyed wall. Her black cloak was shredded, and blood trickled from the corner of her upturned lips.
"That weight... that unfamiliar pressure..." she whispered, her dark eyes locked entirely on Satoru. "You aren't a knight, there's no doubt about that, but I wonder... are your bowels as magnificent as that face of yours?"
Reinhard stepped forward, cutting through the heavy air. "Black hair, black clothes favoring the Gusteko style. You are the 'Bowel Hunter', I take it?"
"What a trash nickname," Satoru commented, rolling his eyes as he took a step forward. "Seriously, 'Bowel Hunter'? If you're gonna be a psycho, at least get a better brand manager. That's just gross."
"Satoru," Reinhard warned gently. "I would prefer her alive for questioning. If you can manage to restrain yourself."
"Ohoo... I can do that. She doesn't look like much anyway." Satoru stepped over a shattered table, beckoning to Elsa with a single finger. "Come on, then. I haven't had sugar in three hours and I'm already starting to get cranky."
"I agree, I too am starting to get cranky~" Elsa raised her blades.
With a seductive smile on her face, she vanished entirely from view at speeds that made it obvious to everyone who'd been fighting her prior, she was toying with them the whole time.
To Subaru and Emilia, she was a lethal blur that would've taken them down in seconds, but to Gojo, she was moving in slow motion.
He didn't take his hands out of his pockets. Elsa appeared directly in his blind spot, driving her blade toward his kidneys with terrifying force.
Yet, the dagger stopped dead an inch from his clothes.
There was no sound of metal striking a barrier, nor any appearance of wind or a fluctuation of mana Elsa could make out.
The blade simply halted, as if pressing against an invisible, absolute wall.
"What?" Elsa's eyes widened in genuine shock. She slashed again. And again. A blinding flurry of strikes that should have turned Satoru into ribbons.
"Missed me," Satoru chirped. He turned around, his cerulean eyes flashing dangerously behind the lenses. "It's called Infinity. I know it's a bit technical, but basically? You can't touch me, nobody can. Ever, you see, that's sort of my thing."
Lightning-fast, his hand shot out and clamped around her forearm.
"Wind magic, then?" Elsa hissed, flushing from the grip as she tried to wrench herself free. Failing that, she twisted her wrist, aiming to slice his fingers off.
"Not quite, missy."
With a dismissive flick of his wrist, Satoru slammed her spine-first into the floorboards. The impact shattered the foundation of the loot house, sending a shockwave that blew the remaining roof tiles into the sky.
"Hk!" Elsa coughed violently as the air was forced from her lungs.
Before she could recover, Satoru kicked her in the side and sent her flying like a cannonball back out into the dirt street.
Satoru stepped out into the moonlight, his silhouette towering and imposing.
Without hesitation, he raised his right hand, crossing his middle finger over his index. A terrifying, crushing spark of crimson energy began to swirl at the tip.
The air itself screamed, twisting under the sudden, violent vacuum of power and the dirt and stone beneath Elsa's feet began to pulverize into dust just from the ambient pressure.
"Satoru, wait!" Reinhard called out, stepping into the doorway. "The civilians!"
Satoru paused. He glanced back at the terrified Subaru and the wide-eyed half-elf. He clicked his tongue, and the red light dissipated, the suffocating pressure vanishing instantly.
"Ah, right. Collateral damage," Satoru muttered, looking genuinely exasperated. "Reinhard, you're such a buzzkill. Even if this place could do with a make-over."
Not that it would've worked anyway.
In that split second of hesitation, Elsa struck the ground with her blade, kicking up a massive smokescreen of debris and dust. By the time Reinhard cleared it with a single swing of his sword, the street was empty.
"Huh. Well, that was dumb of me," Satoru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Trying to track someone without cursed energy is like trying to find a black hole in a dark room. I guess I'll have to get used to this mana stuff."