Eight years later.
The Gojo family's taijutsu instructor looked at the fourteen-year-old Souma with a face full of pride, happily bestowing upon him the title of "Menkyo Kaiden"—License of Total Transmission.
Then, he turned to Satoru standing next to him, and his smile vanished instantly.
Satoru froze, then pointed at his own nose, shouting indignantly.
"Hey! Sensei Jirobo! What's with that face? I at least made it to 'Mokuroku' rank, didn't I?"
Mentioning it only made Instructor Jirobo angrier. If Satoru weren't a Six Eyes inheritor, he would have drop-kicked the brat years ago!
At that moment, the Great Elder approached them. "Young Masters, you have reached the age to enter Jujutsu High. It is time for your grading assessment."
"However, considering your strength, the family has decided you will skip the lower ranks and take the Grade 1 Sorcerer assessment directly. The test is to exorcise ten Grade 1 curses each."
Hearing this, both Souma and Satoru looked eager.
They had exorcised plenty of curses over the years, but Grade 1 curses were relatively rare to find in the wild.
Now they had to hunt ten of them.
It seemed the Gojo family, while pampering them, didn't intend to raise them as flowers in a greenhouse.
It was worth noting that while sorcerers and curses were both ranked from Grade 4 to Special Grade, a Grade 4 sorcerer was generally stronger than a Grade 4 curse, a Grade 3 sorcerer stronger than a Grade 3 curse, and so on.
Of course, Special Grade was the exception. Whether it was a Special Grade curse or sorcerer, they were anomalies that couldn't be measured by standard metrics.
"The family has prepared intelligence on twenty Grade 1 curses for you."
The Great Elder handed the dossiers to Souma and Satoru. The files detailed the curses' abilities and last known locations.
"Hey, Satoru. How about a bet?"
"What kind of bet?"
"Whoever exorcises their ten curses first and returns here wins."
Satoru's eyes lit up. "You're on!"
Over the years, he had mastered long-distance teleportation using Blue. His speed was no longer inferior to his brother's.
"By the way, what's the wager?"
Souma thought for a moment, then the corners of his mouth curled up.
...
"Die! All of you, die!!"
Satoru was rampaging, Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue firing like a machine gun, tearing countless low-level curses into confetti.
"Where are the Grade 1s? Where are they hiding?"
In the gloomy sewers beneath Tokyo, Satoru's voice echoed like a demon's.
At this very moment, in a dark corner, a Grade 1 curse was trembling in fear.
What the hell is wrong with this kid?
He just barged into its home and started bombing the place, looking like he wouldn't stop until everything was dead.
Did I owe him money?
"Found you!"
Satoru's head popped around the corner, a sinister grin on his face.
"SCREEEE—!"
The curse screamed in terror and scrambled deeper into the sewer pipes, completely forgetting that it was supposed to be the monster.
"Don't think you can run!"
Satoru teleported after it.
The curse ran for its life, scuttling like a frightened rat.
After a while, it couldn't help but look back—and nearly lost its soul.
The white-haired demon was chasing it with a manic grin, sticking to it like a shadow.
"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue!"
BOOM!!!
Above ground, on a busy street in Tokyo, a terrible stench suddenly filled the air.
Pedestrians covered their noses, frowning.
"It smells awful!"
"What's happening?"
"I think it's the sewers!"
BANG!!!
Suddenly, a manhole cover blasted ten meters into the air, followed by a geyser of foul sewage.
Instantly, the crowd was subjected to a disgusting "rain." Everyone present got to experience the thrill of a literal shit-storm.
Meanwhile, the culprit, Satoru Gojo, had already fled the scene.
"Ten Grade 1 curses, all done! I'm definitely faster than big bro this time!"
Satoru cranked Blue to maximum output, teleporting at incredible speed.
When he returned to the Gojo dojo, he looked around and let out a triumphant whoop.
"Woohoo! Brother isn't back yet! I win! Ahahahaha!"
Satoru's eyes gleamed. "Since brother lost, the punishment... hehehe!"
"Don't laugh like a villain, Satoru."
Suddenly, Souma's voice came from behind him.
Satoru spun around. Souma was sitting leisurely, sipping tea, looking at him with a teasing smile.
The Great Elder coughed twice. "Young Master Satoru... you lost. Young Master Souma returned thirty minutes ago."
"Gah—"
Satoru's smile froze.
Then he remembered the terms of the bet, and a look of pure despair filled his eyes.
...
Akihabara.
At a certain event hall, a cosplay convention was in full swing.
Handsome men and beautiful women dressed as their favorite anime characters walked to and fro, taking photos, signing autographs, and buying merch.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out in the crowd.
"Whoa! Oh my god! That catgirl is so cute!"
"That face! That figure! That makeup!"
"Miss, are you interested in becoming an idol?"
Satoru looked at the crowd surrounding him, forcing a stiff smile.
"H-hello everyone!"
"Ohhh~"
The crowd gasped.
"It's a guy! A trap! Even better!"
"Damn, this is confusing my orientation!"
"Bro, you look better than the girls here!"
Realizing he was a boy only made the crowd more excited. Satoru took a frightened step back.
He should never have agreed to this bet!
The price of losing was too high: attending a convention dressed as a catgirl maid!
However, thanks to his tall, slender build, flawless skin, and natural white hair, Satoru's cosplay of a "White-Haired Cat Maid" looked like it had walked straight out of an anime.
Not only were the guys staring, but the girls were also lining up to take photos.
He was effortlessly conquering both genders.
A shy girl cosplaying Android 18 approached him. "Hello... can I take a picture with you?"
Seeing a pretty girl, Satoru's natural charm kicked in. He flashed his signature "handsome guy" smile.
"Of course!"
"Me too! Me too!"
"Okay, okay, line up! One at a time!"
Satoru, dressed in a frilly maid outfit with cat ears, decided to let go of his shame. He started striking cutesy poses, fully embracing the role. If you're going to do it, do it with style!
"Tsk tsk tsk..."
Not far away, a figure in a full-body suit masked his identity.
Souma, cosplaying as Kamen Rider Decade, watched with a lecherous grin hidden beneath his helmet.
Satoru had no idea his brother had followed him to the convention.
Souma pulled out a magenta camera—Decade's signature item—and snapped a photo.
Beneath the mask, his grin was wider than an AK-47 magazine.
"Let me record this historic moment."
"I'm going to eat off this blackmail material for the rest of my life!"