The door to the infirmary was gently pushed open, and Satoru walked in.
He still wore that same cynical smile, but the moment he stepped into the room, the Six Eyes beneath his blindfold had already discreetly scanned Utaha's condition—her breathing was steady, and though her Cursed Energy was depleted, it was recovering in an orderly fashion.
"Morning, Kasumi-sensei." Satoru dragged a chair over and sat down carelessly by the hospital bed, crossing his legs.
"Looks like you're recovering well. Things got a bit loud last night. You didn't get scared, did you?"
"Don't call me that."
Utaha blurted it out almost the instant Satoru finished speaking, her voice rising slightly due to annoyance and sudden embarrassment, her cheeks flushing a visible shade of red at a speed discernible to the naked eye.
Being addressed by someone she knew in real life by her pen name—the one she used for writing romance novels online, which carried a certain sense of chuunibyou shame...
The feeling of social death made her more uncomfortable than facing a Special Grade Cursed Spirit.
"Eh... why?" Satoru drawled, his smile brightening significantly, clearly intentional.
"I think it suits you perfectly, Kasumi-sensei. I've actually read the third volume of your Love Metronome, you know. The psychological depiction of the female lead is very delicate, no wonder it's a bestseller. Isn't calling a creator by their pen name a form of respect?"
"Th-that's a separate matter." Utaha's face grew even redder, even the tips of her ears turning pink, her eyes filled with embarrassment.
"At school, please call me Kasumigaoka, or Kasumigaoka-san." She tried to regain some dignity with a serious tone, but it had little effect.
"Alright, alright, shy Kasumigaoka-san." Satoru complied easily, though the teasing tone in his voice didn't diminish in the slightest.
Utaha could feel that Satoru probably had a lot in common with Sukuna.
Leaning against the headboard, Utaha shook her head slightly. "I'm fine, Gojo-sensei. Outside... has everything been resolved?"
She was referring to the series of attacks from the previous night.
"Well, it's more or less come to a temporary close."
Satoru shrugged, his tone light, but the content of his words made one's heart tighten.
"The second-year brats did a good job and drove off those blind Curse Users. As for my side... I ran into a rather interesting fellow."
He paused as if reminiscing, then looked at Utaha and asked, "By the way, Kasumigaoka-san, how much do you know about Cursed Spirits? I mean, the high-level ones."
Utaha thought about her previous 'ghost-seeing' experiences and the terrifying aura she had sensed from a distance last night, then said carefully, "Very strong, very dangerous, full of malice... and they come in various forms."
"Exactly. Dangerous, full of malice, acting on instinct like wild beasts." Satoru took over the conversation, but his tone carried a hint of investigation.
"But the one I encountered last night was a bit different. A guy with a volcano for a head who plays with fire, calling himself 'Jogo'. Not only was his strength ridiculously high, Special Grade, but most importantly, he could talk. He had a clear consciousness, could communicate, and even had clear goals and... let's call them 'convictions.'"
"A Special Grade Cursed Spirit that can talk?" Utaha was somewhat surprised; this exceeded her prior knowledge.
In her limited career of 'seeing ghosts,' those things mostly only had vague obsessions or pure destructive desires.
"Quite rare, right?" Satoru tapped his temple with a finger.
"Ordinary Special Grade Cursed Spirits certainly can't, one could even say they almost never have systematic intelligence. They're like powerful beasts—terrifying strength, but their behavior patterns are mostly based on the instincts of their origin, like hatred for specific things, the desire to prey on life, and so on."
"But that volcano-head last night was different. He clearly recognized me, his goal was to 'eliminate the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer,' and his words were full of fanaticism for the 'Era of Cursed Spirits'. This has already gone beyond the scope of ordinary Cursed Spirits."
He leaned forward slightly, 'looking' at Utaha through his blindfold. "And, what's more troublesome is that he has companions, and more than one."
Utaha asked subconsciously, "Why do you say that?"
Satoru's tone turned cold for a moment. "Because just as I was about to crush that volcano-head, he was rescued by another Cursed Spirit that suddenly appeared."
He leaned back against the chair, crossing his hands behind his head, and delivered an even more shocking piece of news.
"That's not even the worst part. While I was being tied down by those two Special Grade Cursed Spirits, Jujutsu High's Cursed Warehouse—the place where dangerous cursed objects are stored—was infiltrated."
"Although the intruder failed to break through the innermost seal, the outer perimeter was lost. And among the stolen items were a total of six of Sukuna's fingers that Jujutsu High had collected and preserved over the years."
"Six?!" Utaha nearly sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding.
Uraume had brought three, and Jujutsu High had lost six...
Sukuna's fingers were being gathered at an alarming rate.
She instantly understood why Satoru had come to see her—he wasn't just there to inform her of the situation, but to test the reaction of the 'main personage' inside her body.
She subconsciously focused her mind, sensing inward. Sukuna's consciousness remained silent in the depths of that Mental Tea Room, completely unresponsive to the explosive news Satoru had brought from the outside world, as if he were asleep, or... simply didn't care at all.
Satoru naturally noticed Utaha's momentary shock and the subsequent eerie calmness of Sukuna's Cursed Energy within her.
He adjusted his blindfold, his tone unreadable. "So, things have become interesting. An organized, intelligent group of Special Grade Cursed Spirits, with a clear goal of attacking Jujutsu High to distract me and take the opportunity to steal Sukuna's fingers..."
"No matter how you look at it, this isn't a coincidence. What do they want with Sukuna's fingers? To resurrect him? Or do they have another use?"
His gaze seemed to pierce through Utaha's body, looking directly at the entity within her. "And Sukuna-sama, do you have nothing to say about your fingers being stolen by other Cursed Spirits? Or did you already know? Perhaps this is even what you hoped to see?"
The hospital room was silent. Only the rhythmic ticking of the equipment could be heard.
Sukuna still gave no response.
Utaha felt a wave of pressure.
Satoru's suspicion was perfectly reasonable. She opened her mouth to say something, but didn't know how to explain.
Was she supposed to tell Satoru that Sukuna's old subordinate Uraume had just delivered three fingers last night, and Sukuna himself might not care at all about the theft of Jujutsu High's fingers, or even be happy to see it happen?
That would only make things more complicated.
"It seems our lord is in a bad mood today and doesn't want to chat."
Satoru waited a few seconds, and seeing no movement, he didn't mind. He resumed his lazy demeanor and stood up.
"Forget it. Regardless, the fingers being lost is a fact, and the existence of an intelligent Cursed Spirit group is also a fact. I'm afraid the coming days won't be very peaceful. Kasumigaoka-san, get some rest and recover as soon as possible."
"Since Sukuna is silent for now, you should start your basic studies and training as a student of Jujutsu High. After all..."
He walked to the door, turned back, and the corners of his lips beneath the blindfold quirked up. "You'll have to learn some skills to protect yourself, right?"
With that, he waved and left the infirmary.
Utaha sat alone on the bed, digesting the information Satoru had brought.
Deep within her body, in that Mental Tea Room, Sukuna seemed to be 'watching' it all. In his crimson pupils, the light and shadow of the outside world were reflected, and the corners of his lips held a cold, pleasant curve that no one could understand.
The game had only just entered an interesting phase. And he would soon change to a more suitable 'chess piece' and take the field himself.