Chapter 22: Tyrant of Heaven
After a long while, Suguru Geto slowly spoke, his voice slightly hoarse: "It's like swallowing the filthiest, most disgusting sludge, condensed from all of humanity's negative emotions."
"Every single time, it feels like I'm challenging the limits of my own endurance."
He slightly clenched his fist. "I even doubt what the meaning of constantly repeating this process is, and whether it's truly worth it. Is it really just for the sake of becoming stronger?"
This was a turmoil deep within Suguru Geto's heart that he had never revealed to anyone.
The price of power was slowly eroding his conviction.
Toho Hiroshi listened quietly, without immediately refuting or lecturing him.
He also looked up at the bright moon. The moon here seemed no different from the one in his hometown, yet it was separated by endless time and space.
"I don't know if it's worth it, Suguru."
Toho Hiroshi's voice was very soft, carrying a hint of distant emotion. "Perhaps only you can find the answer to that question."
"However."
He changed the subject, looking at Suguru Geto, his eyes exceptionally clear and firm under the moonlight. "At least during this process, you are not alone. When you feel sick and nauseous, you can think about that idiot Satoru pestering you for another fight, think about Shoko's treatment room, which she always has ready even though she complains, and think about the sight of Teacher Yaga taking the pressure off us while calling us brats."
"Even later on, you can think about Senior Utahime's determination to catch up, think about Senior Mei Mei's way of survival hidden behind her careful calculations, and think about this 'disgusting' gift I gave you."
"Swallowing repulsive Cursed Spirits and enduring the price of power is not about becoming the solitary 'correct' path, but about protecting the people and things behind you—those who might be weak, might be ignorant, but are still worth protecting—including each other."
"If it feels too difficult to bear,' Toho Hiroshi pointed to himself, 'the next time you need it, I can accompany you. Although I can't share the taste, I can at least hand you a cup of water, or, after you've finished throwing up, spar with you to let off some steam.'"
Suguru Geto stared blankly at Toho Hiroshi, looking at his calm profile that contained immense strength, and listening to his unadorned words that struck deeply at his heart.
The nausea regarding the taste of the Cursed Spirit spheres, and the confusion about the meaning of protection—all accumulated deep within his heart—seemed to be quietly washed away by a different emotion at that moment.
That's right, he wasn't alone.
Someone understood his pain, someone acknowledged his sacrifice, and someone supported him in this unique way.
The moonlight seemed to grow a little warmer.
Suguru Geto slowly unclenched his fist, and that familiar, gentle, and genuine smile reappeared on his face. Although there was still a hint of exhaustion in his eyes, the sense of alienation had vanished.
"Thanks, Toho."
He said softly, his voice much steadier this time. "I've received both your gift and your sentiment."
"Let's go."
Toho Hiroshi patted his shoulder. "Go settle your new 'partner' quickly. Tomorrow, we still have to listen to Teacher Yaga's supplementary ideological education on the 'dangers of privately keeping Special Grade Cursed Spirits.'"
Suguru Geto laughed. "That's true."
...The afterglow of the setting sun coated the quiet neighborhood in a warm, golden layer.
Toho Hiroshi finished his business at Tokyo Jujutsu High and returned to the front of his rented house.
Before he even got close, he heard the clear laughter of little girls coming from the yard.
He saw little Rika and the neighbor's Tsumiki Fushiguro carefully watering several newly planted sunflower seedlings together.
Meanwhile, the younger Megumi Fushiguro, with his cool expression, stood watching from a short distance with his arms crossed. His eyes no longer held the initial wariness, replaced instead by a child's softness.
Watching the smile bloom on Rika's face, a smile that almost dispelled the shadows of the past, Toho Hiroshi felt a sense of peace. However, this peace was shattered almost instantly.
His powerful perception, especially his insight enhanced by the Sharingan, immediately detected an anomaly—an extremely subtle "gaze" with a cold quality, cast from the shadows around the street corner.
The gaze contained no Cursed Energy, yet it carried an almost beast-like scrutiny and danger, like a cold blade lightly grazing the skin.
It was neither a Jujutsu Sorcerer nor a Cursed Spirit.
Toho Hiroshi's body subtly tensed. The black in his eyes silently transformed into the Three Tomoe Sharingan, and he looked towards the source of the feeling.
He saw an extremely tall and burly man leaning against the wall at the corner.
The man had messy black hair, with a few strands hanging over his forehead. He wore a simple black bodysuit that outlined his fierce, brutal physique, giving the impression that every muscle contained explosive power.
Most striking was the scar at the corner of his mouth, which added a touch of ferocity to his already wild and unrestrained demeanor.
The man seemed to be chewing on a blade of grass, his expression languid, as if he were merely leaning there, casually basking in the sun.
But Toho Hiroshi's Sharingan clearly captured that deep within the man's seemingly casual gaze, he was precisely scanning the courtyard, pausing for a moment especially on the three playing children, before finally settling on Toho Hiroshi himself, like a precise sniper rifle locking onto its target.
There was no killing intent in those eyes, but they were filled with undisguised assessment, scrutiny, and the interest a top predator shows upon seeing another powerful creature.
Fushiguro Toji.
Toho Hiroshi instantly confirmed the man's identity.
The one hailed as the pinnacle of 'physicality,' the tyrant of heaven who exchanged zero Cursed Energy for an invincible body.
He actually showed up here—was it a coincidence, or...?
Their gazes briefly met in the air.
No words were exchanged, yet invisible sparks seemed to crackle between them.
Toho Hiroshi's expression was calm, but his heart was filled with the utmost vigilance.
Without changing his expression, he took a few steps forward, positioning himself perfectly to shield Rika and the Fushiguro Siblings completely. At the same time, his own aura subtly radiated outward, like an undercurrent beneath a calm lake—serving both as defense and a silent warning.
Fushiguro Toji, standing far away, seemed to notice the change in Toho Hiroshi's movement and aura. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly—it wasn't a smile, but rather an expression of having found something interesting.
He slowly straightened his body.
That simple action, however, brought with it the oppressive feeling of a beast awakening.
The next moment, Toji's figure vanished without warning.
It was not the teleportation used by Jujutsu Sorcerers, but a ghost-like speed achieved purely through physical explosiveness.
Almost simultaneously, the Three Tomoe in Toho Hiroshi's eyes spun rapidly.
Under the capture of his dynamic vision, a blurry black shadow rapidly approached. It did not charge directly toward him and the children, but appeared meters away to his side as if teleporting. A simple, direct Knife Hand strike, so fast it tore the air, accompanied by a dull sonic boom, sliced straight toward Toho Hiroshi's neck.
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