Was he being reckless?
Perhaps. But as Suzuki mentally reviewed the lecture he had just given Mai about creativity, a harsh realization hit him: he suffered from the exact same lack of imagination.
Instead of pushing the absolute limits of Projection Sorcery—developing an innate, devastating finishing move that could obliterate any opponent in a single strike—he had settled for a shortcut. He had relied on the tungsten spike, an external weapon forged by someone else's power, to bypass his physical limitations.
Even though there are so many other ways for me to grow stronger...
Why had he dedicated years to agonizing over advanced physics? Why was he even planning to pursue a PhD at Kyoto University? Wasn't it precisely because he understood his own biological limits?
He had weaponized physics because he actively wanted to disrupt the established status quo of Projection Sorcery. He absolutely refused to end up like his father, Naobito, or his arrogant older brother, Naoya. In the Jujutsu world, they were categorized as "Lightweight Speedsters"—sorcerers who relied on accelerating to blinding speeds and physically ramming their body weight into targets.
Against small fry, that tactic was invincible. But against highly durable, Special Grade enemies? A speedster would literally bounce off their armor or violently shatter their own bones upon impact.
Commissioning the tungsten spike was the fastest, most pragmatic solution to the armor-piercing problem. But what if he dropped it? What if a cursed spirit swallowed it, or a sorcerer managed to disarm him? What then? Would he just turn around and run away?
It was utterly pathetic. He had developed Frame Deletion—an overpowered technique that practically mimicked the time-erasing terror of King Crimson—yet he hadn't engineered a hand-to-hand finishing blow to complement it.
Hmm... kinetic accumulation and wave interference... Suzuki muttered internally, his mind rapidly drafting new combat equations.
"Are you absolutely sure about this?"
Mai's voice broke his concentration. While Suzuki's steps were light and completely unbothered, Maki and Mai walked behind him with heavy, dread-filled footsteps. They were on their way back to the main Zenin estate.
Once they stepped through those gates, there was no turning back. It was an act of open treason.
Neither Maki nor Mai had any desire to return to that hellhole. Maki had essentially exiled herself to Tokyo, rarely returning unless it was to visit Suzuki at his university in Kyoto. Mai, on the other hand, refused to step foot in the main house, opting to live completely independently in her dorm at Kyoto Jujutsu High or crash at Suzuki's apartment.
The twins were the "trash" of the clan—two existences that were chronically mocked, abused, and looked down upon by the entire Zenin hierarchy. If Suzuki hadn't been there to shield them and support them, their lives would have been a miserable, suffocating cycle of failure. If not for his interference, the clan would have never even allowed Maki to leave for Tokyo.
"If you two are that worried, you don't have to follow me," Suzuki said without looking back. "I'll have the entire estate cleaned out before dinner."
Did they honestly think he was going to lose? He wasn't surprised by their anxiety, so he couldn't even be bothered to force them to come. Having them constantly questioning his decisions would only be a distraction anyway.
"Are you kidding me?!" Mai snapped, her anxiety flaring into anger.
"I'm following you," Maki stated, her grip tightening on her weapon.
"Then keep quiet and just follow my lead," Suzuki commanded smoothly. "This is my problem to solve. Just stand back and watch me take the Head's seat."
Suzuki didn't hesitate, his pace entirely unchanged. He could deal with their lingering fears and hesitations later, after he had physically dismantled the entire Zenin Clan.
Staring at his retreating back, the twins instinctively reached out, wanting to grab his shirt and stop him from doing something suicidal. But their hands froze in the air. They hesitated, slowly lowering their arms, and ultimately just fell into step behind him. They would follow him. They would support him.
Once Suzuki made up his mind, it was an absolute law of nature. No one could change it. It was exactly like the time he casually decided to take the Kyoto University entrance exams, violently beating down any clan member who tried to physically drag him away from his textbooks.
Yes, unlike Suzuki in the Naruto universe, who silently and obediently kissed up to the Third Hokage to become a favored disciple... and unlike Kim Min-jun in Solo Leveling, who quietly studied himself to the brink of a heart attack to survive... the Jujutsu Kaisen Suzuki was utterly ruthless.
They might share the same soul, but their environments dictated their survival methods.
In a snake pit like the Zenin Clan, if Suzuki had acted like his other selves—kind, understanding, or patient—he would have been devoured alive. Instead of using gentle diplomacy, he had to physically beat the life out of anyone who mocked him, establishing absolute dominance.
The strong take everything. The weak lose everything.
That was the only law the Zenin Clan respected.
Knowing this, Suzuki knew he had to be the strongest. But more than that, he knew he had to beat the archaic traditions out of them to force an evolution. What era did these old fools think they were living in?
The era where raw, unga-bunga strength ruled the world was over. This was the era of the mind. If the Jujutsu world didn't adapt to modern logic, it would inevitably destroy itself.
Suzuki knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew it would eventually make him the ultimate enemy of the entire conservative Jujutsu society. But this violent reform was necessary.
Yes, he was being entirely selfish, but looking at the current state of Jujutsu society, his method was objectively the only one that made sense. Everyone else was completely delusional.
If the Zenin Clan became the uncontested superpower, they would violently enslave everyone beneath them. The Kamo and Gojo clans weren't much better.
And what about Satoru Gojo?
Despite being hailed as the untouchable "Strongest," Gojo was politically incompetent. His grand master plan was nothing more than waiting for the corrupt conservative elders to die of old age so his idealistic students could magically fix the system. Gojo never actually did anything systemic, despite possessing the god-like power to overthrow the government in an afternoon.
Was Gojo's plan of fostering the youth really that noble? Suzuki scoffed at the idea. Those students were being taught by a man who was entirely helpless against the bureaucratic system. Watching their invincible teacher bow to corrupt politics would only teach the next generation to go rogue and operate outside the law, rather than fundamentally fixing the society itself.
So what was Suzuki's grand method? Why was he so confident he could change the world?
Suzuki wasn't going to invent a new philosophy. He was just going to forcefully apply the exact same system that ruled the rest of the modern planet.
His ultimate weapon? Capitalism.
"You disrespectful nerd."
As Suzuki casually strolled through the traditional wooden gates of the Zenin mansion, the welcoming committee was already waiting. Standing in the courtyard with a sneer of absolute disgust was Ogi Zenin—Maki and Mai's father, and Suzuki's uncle.
Ogi's face twisted in revulsion as he looked Suzuki up and down. Suzuki was wearing a gray oversized hoodie with Kyoto University printed across the chest, loose denim jeans, and white Converse sneakers. It was an incredibly modern, casual outfit that blatantly disrespected the strict, traditional kimono dress code expected at the main household.
"Watch how you dress, you arrogant nerd," Ogi spat, his hand resting menacingly on the hilt of his katana. "You are a member of the elite Zenin Clan, not some uneducated street monkey."
Suzuki might have been an academic genius, but Ogi deeply despised the boy's blatant disregard for traditional etiquette. But what infuriated Ogi even more was the sight of the two girls trailing behind him.
"And why the hell did you bring these two pieces of trash back to my—"
Ptooie!
Ogi froze. His eyes widened in absolute, paralyzing shock.
A thick glob of saliva slowly dripped down the bridge of Ogi's nose, wetting his cheek.
"Shut up, trash," Suzuki said coldly, his eyes dead and entirely devoid of respect. "Get out of my way."
"...." Maki stopped breathing.
"...." Mai covered her mouth in horror.
"...." Ogi Zenin stared ahead, his mind completely unable to process the sheer, astronomical level of disrespect that had just occurred.
---
The carnage will begin!