In the UCLA multimedia lab, the credits for Episode 6 were rolling, but nobody was moving.
Lucas Miller sat in the front row, staring at the blurred pixels of the screen. His heart actually ached. He remembered filming that scene, he had broken down twice during the takes. Leo had personally stepped into the "curse" makeup of Junpei to guide the emotional beats, whispering prompts that made the tragedy feel so real that Lucas forgot he was on a soundstage in Burbank.
As he watched the live comments scrolling past, full of fans cursing the screenwriter, Lucas felt a strange sense of pride. They weren't just watching a show; they were living through it. He couldn't blame Leo for the "viciousness" of the script; he only felt a profound respect for the man who had turned a "scandal-ridden" reputation into a masterpiece.
"I'm so mad! That damn Leo Vance! How can he be so cruel?"
A sharp, familiar voice cut through the silence of the lab. Lucas turned his head to see Chloe Vance fuming, her face flushed with a mix of grief and irritation. She looked like she wanted to find the writer and personally throw a punch.
"Beat him up?" Ava was amused by Chloe's expression, laughing even as she wiped tears from her eyes. "Chloe, he's a six-foot-three martial artist. Do you really think you can take him?"
Chloe let out a cold snort. "There's always a chance. It's not like I haven't kicked his ass before!"
Ava paused, her eyebrows shooting up. "You beat him? When? Was this some secret underground fight club?"
Chloe coughed twice, her face reddening as she realized she'd slipped up. "Uh... nothing. I was just... imagining it. Vividly."
"Then I hope your dream comes true," Ava said with a wistful smile. "But do me a favor, when you're standing over his defeated body, get his private number for me. I want to call him and scold him for three hours straight about Junpei!"
Chloe's face burned. She remembered a time, nearly a decade ago, when she had tried to kick Leo's shins for stealing her dessert, only to be picked up like a kitten and playfully "spanked" until she promised to be a good sister. Back then, they were inseparable. Now, she was watching him become a god from the back of a classroom.
The Set of "Eternal Blossom."
"This screenwriter is truly a demon," Seraphina murmured, dabbing her eyes with a silk handkerchief. "It feels like someone put a brick in my eye. I can't believe Leo Vance actually wrote this. Where did that depth come from?"
"Wuwuwu... it's a total tearjerker!" Sophie Vane was already a lost cause. She had officially joined the "Leo Vance Fan Club," her earlier skepticism replaced by a fierce loyalty. "But if Leo wrote it, it must have a deeper meaning! He's a visionary!"
The group watched as Nanami and Itadori began their tag-team assault on Mahito, the episode ending just as the fight hit its peak.
Leo's Penthouse, West Hollywood.
"The Junpei arc... it was too much! You called this 'HEALING'!"
Riley Evans wiped her red-rimmed eyes and shot a ferocious glare at Leo, who was sitting next to her on the sofa.
"Right? I thought it was pretty effective," Leo said, casually cracking sunflower seeds. He seemed completely oblivious to the "killing intent" radiating from the girl beside him.
In Leo's opinion, the original creator of the manga was a bit of a sadist. If the fans knew that Gojo Satoru was eventually going to be "cut in half" in the source material, they'd probably burn the studio down. Leo, of course, wasn't going to let that happen in his version, but he knew that a story without pain was a story without weight.
The Aesthetic of Tragedy, he thought. That's what makes a legend.
Suddenly, he felt a small hand reaching for his thigh, clearly intended for a sharp pinch. Leo's reflexes, sharpened by his "Top-Tier" stats, were too fast. He caught Riley's wrist mid-air.
"What was the plan there, Little Rabbit?" Leo teased.
Riley was still immersed in her sadness, but seeing Leo smiling while the world was mourning made her blood boil. "Let go of me, you scoundrel! How can you be so happy when Junpei just died?!"
Leo squeezed her hand gently, feeling the softness of her palm. "Your hands are so small. If you keep trying to attack me, I'm going to have to resort to extreme measures."
"You're a monster! Don't you care about art?!"
Leo's expression suddenly became very serious. He looked Riley in the eye, his voice deepening. "Everything I do is for art, Riley. Understand?"
He leaned in, his gaze intense. "Think about it. This is a world of curses and sorcerers, not a Saturday morning cartoon. People die. Dreams break. If I only showed you laughs and sunshine, I'd be lying to you. A work that doesn't have tragedy is destined to be forgotten. Every great drama in history has a scar. I'm just giving this one a heart."
Riley was stunned. She looked at Leo, not the "Hellraiser," but the "Director." He sounded... incredibly convincing.
"For art..." she whispered, her anger slowly dissolving into a confusing mix of respect and something else.
"Exactly. Everything for art!" Leo nodded. He didn't let go of her hand.
"Um... can you let go now?" Riley asked, her face turning a deep shade of pink.
Leo actually increased his grip slightly. "Actually, Riley, there's a reason I'm still holding on. I'm currently writing the pilot for my next project, The Outcast. There's a scene involving the male lead and a girl named Jo, and I'm struggling to find the 'spark' for their physical chemistry. For the sake of art... just let me hold this for a bit. For inspiration."
"Okay... for art," Riley whispered, her head bowing shyly.
It was the first time she'd ever held a man's hand for this long. In college, she had been a "workaholic" student, and in the industry, she was a "low-level assistant" with no social life. She tried to tell herself that Leo was still the "Hellraiser," but the image of Gojo Satoru kept dancing in the back of her mind.
Over the next few days, Leo was a ghost. Between finalizing the scripts for the NAC Tournament and handling the legalities of his new venture, he was working twenty-hour days.
He had officially decided on the name: Celestial Peak Entertainment.
Due to the explosive success of Jujutsu Kaisen, Leo was now a "Recognized Face." He couldn't even walk to the mailbox without a hat and a mask.
On Thursday, he went to the Los Angeles County Registrar-Recorder/County Clerk's office to pick up his business license. While standing in the long, slow-moving queue, he overheard two college girls in front of him discussing the latest episode.
"Did you see Episode 6? I'm literally still crying! I want to find that writer and kick him!"
"Tell me about it! Leo Vance is so toxic for doing that to Junpei! But... I saw a clip of him in that school skirt and I think I've forgiven him."
The girl who wanted to kick him fell silent. "Okay, true. Gojo-sensei is a god. I'll forgive him... this time."
Leo smiled under his mask. The 'Visuals' buff is truly the strongest cursed technique, he thought.
"Next!"
The clerk behind the counter was a woman in her late twenties, looking listless and completely drained by the bureaucracy of her job. She took Leo's ticket without looking up.
"Mr. Leo Vance? Here for the 'Celestial Peak' filing?" she asked in a robotic monotone.
Leo stepped forward and handed over his ID. The clerk glanced at the computer screen, then at the photo, then back at the man in the mask.
Her eyes suddenly widened. Her "work-numbness" vanished in a split second. She looked at the personal data, the height, the birthday, and then at the piercing blue eyes visible above the mask.
"Wait... Mr. Vance?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she leaned over the counter. "Are you... are you Instructor Gojo?!"