Kenjaku had long anticipated Sukuna's resurrection, it was a crucial piece in his thousand-year-long chess game. However, the manner of Sukuna's resurrection and the host he attached himself to had surprised even him.
"That existence occupying the young girl's body..." Kenjaku tapped his fingertips lightly on the table, as if organizing his thoughts.
"I've confirmed through certain channels that the Cursed Energy traces left at the scene, along with that unique 'slashing' quality that seems capable of cutting through space itself, definitely belong to Sukuna. Interestingly, he doesn't seem to have fully undergone incarnation. It's more like a deeper level of... symbiosis? Or perhaps a Binding Vow?"
This was exactly what slightly surprised Kenjaku. He was well-versed in the principles of incarnation. An ordinary human body should be as fragile as a blank sheet of paper before the special grade cursed object that was Sukuna's Finger. It should have been instantly eroded and possessed, becoming a breeding ground for Sukuna's resurrection.
His original "script" involved having Itadori Yuji, a special vessel, swallow the finger. This would have temporarily suppressed Sukuna while placing him in the controllable position of a "protagonist," making him easier to guide and utilize later.
However, Sukuna had chosen a seemingly ordinary girl as his "host" and apparently hadn't forced a total possession, instead maintaining a delicate balance.
This didn't fit his understanding of Sukuna's overbearing personality, unless... was there something special about the girl herself, or Sukuna's current state?
"This saves us a lot of trouble." Jogo snorted, his single eye flashing with calculation.
"Since he's already awake, his power is definitely recovering, regardless of the method. If he stands on our side..."
Jogo's voice dropped, filled with a near-fanatical expectation. "...the possibility of Cursed Spirits replacing hypocritical humans as the true masters of this world will become much greater. With the power of the King of Curses joining us, those Jujutsu Sorcerers, and that damned Gojo Satoru..."
At the mention of Gojo Satoru's name, the temperature around Jogo seemed to rise by several degrees.
That man was undoubtedly the highest mountain standing in the way of the Cursed Spirits' grand plan.
Kenjaku smiled, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Jogo's aggressive rhetoric, merely following his lead. "Indeed, Sukuna's power is an indispensable part of the plan. However, he is likely far from his prime right now. Out of the twenty fingers, he has probably only recovered one or two, hasn't he? Less than a tenth of his power remains."
"Then we'll help him find them." Jogo interjected immediately, his tone decisive.
"Collect his fingers and bring them to him. With this sincerity added to our common goal, I'm not worried about him refusing to cooperate."
"Collecting the fingers..." Kenjaku repeated the words, his eyes shimmering as he weighed the pros and cons.
Actively collecting Sukuna's fingers could show goodwill, but it might also prematurely expose their existence and goals, potentially drawing a fierce reaction from Jujutsu High. Furthermore, gathering the scattered fingers and presenting them to Sukuna was akin to personally reattaching a tiger's claws and fangs.
How could he ensure this tiger wouldn't turn and devour its "handler" first?
"The fingers must be collected, naturally." Kenjaku said slowly, his tone returning to its habitual calm and calculation.
"But there's no need to rush, nor do we need to handle all of them ourselves. Sukuna himself is likely searching for them. We can provide him with some convenience, or guide him toward places where the fingers might be."
"At the same time, we need to observe him more closely, to understand his current state, his thoughts, and his relationship with that girl."
He looked at Jogo, his smile deepening. "Jogo, perhaps we can arrange a 'chance encounter'? Without exposing our true purpose, we can test the attitude of the King of Curses toward the current world and the conflict between Cursed Spirits and humans. After all, cooperation requires mutual understanding, doesn't it?"
Jogo was silent for a moment before nodding.
Though he was violent by nature, he wasn't entirely brainless and understood that Kenjaku's caution had merit.
"Then I'll leave the arrangements to you. But make it quick. I can feel the balance being broken, time waits for no one."
"Rest assured." Kenjaku raised his cup toward Jogo, his eyes flashing with unfathomable depth.
"We've waited countless years, a little longer won't hurt. A good play can only begin when all the actors are in place. And Sukuna is undoubtedly one of the most anticipated 'protagonists' in this grand drama. Let's see what kind of interesting variables he will bring to this era, now that he's strayed from the established script."
...
Inside the principal's office at Kyoto Jujutsu High, curls of incense smoke swirled in the dim light.
Gakuganji Yoshinobu, the old man whose eyebrows lengthened with his shifting emotions, was staring through eyes that had seen over half a century of storms at the standing figures of Mai and Kasumi, who were both standing straight yet looking pale.
His withered fingers lightly tapped the report on the desk, its ink barely dry. The few words on the paper simplified a terrifying encounter with a Special Grade Cursed Spirit into a lucky story of "escaping after falling unconscious."
However, the residual Cursed Energy traces at the scene told Yoshinobu another truth: it had been a one-sided slaughter.
"Hmph..." He let out an ambiguous low grunt.
He could naturally tell that the two students were hiding something, but what of it?
Forcing them to tell the truth would be equivalent to pushing them into opposition with that unknown powerhouse.
As the leader of the Conservative Faction within the Jujutsu world, he knew better than anyone that the less one knew about certain secrets, the longer one lived.
"You may leave." He finally spoke, his voice raspy but carrying an unquestionable authority.
"I will submit the mission report... according to procedure."
He waved his hand, giving his tacit approval to the report that was full of holes.
Watching the two students leave with backs that seemed relieved yet burdened by guilt, Yoshinobu slowly leaned back in his chair, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the armrest. His peculiar eyebrows twitched slightly, revealing his inner turmoil.
"Is it for that Heavenly Restriction in Tokyo?" His clouded eyes turned toward the window, as if he could see through the layers of mountains toward Tokyo Jujutsu High.
"Is the Zenin clan unable to restrain themselves, wanting to obtain that Tyrant's power? Or..."
He thought of more.
Lately, the higher-ups' sensitivity to "anomalies" had been unusually high, especially regarding information involving special grade cursed objects and potential vessels.
Dispatching two Grade 2 Sorcerers to a location with unknown information but abnormal Cursed Energy reactions was an inherently irrational arrangement. It felt more like... a test, or rather, a sacrifice. Using the lives of two young sorcerers to verify whether a certain existence had awakened.
A cold, hard arc curled at the corner of Yoshinobu's lips. He was conservative and stubborn, even seen by some as an "old fossil" blocking reform, but he was by no means someone who disregarded the lives of his students.
Those fellows, for the sake of their so-called "big picture" and clearing out unstable factors, would so easily treat his students as expendable pawns?
This resentment pricked at his heart like tiny needles of ice.
"Forget it." He muttered to himself, as if trying to convince himself.
"Since someone cleaned up the mess for me and saved my students' lives, I'll take note of this 'favor' for now. As for Tokyo... let that brat from the Gojo clan and the Zenin clan's storm sort themselves out."
Yoshinobu picked up the report and placed it at the very bottom of the file box labeled "Processed."
He knew that under the calm surface, the undercurrents were already surging, and his two students who had narrowly survived might have already been unwittingly swept into a vortex more dangerous than a Special Grade Cursed Spirit.
All he could do now, before the storm fully descended, was to secure some room to maneuver for himself and the Kyoto school.
This seemingly rigid old man had his own set of "flexible" principles for surviving in a cruel world.