The peace lasted—
maybe twenty minutes.
Then—
BOOOOM.
The side of the building exploded inward.
Glass shattered across the medical wing.
Walls cracked.
Everyone shot to their feet instantly.
A massive cursed energy flooded the area.
Violent.
Sharp.
Aggressive.
"…Another one!?" Yuji shouted.
Smoke poured through the ruined wall.
A tall opponent stepped through slowly.
Bare upper body.
Covered in scars.
Power radiating off him.
Kashimo grinned immediately.
"…Finally."
But before anyone else could move—
Takeru grabbed the nearest object.
A pen.
Then immediately jumped out the broken window.
"TAKERU WAIT—" Megumi yelled.
Too late.
Takeru landed outside smoothly.
Rolling his shoulder once.
Pen still in hand.
He looked up at the enemy.
Smirked.
"…Another enemy?"
A pause.
"…Acute sighting."
The enemy blinked.
"…Did you just call me cute?"
Takeru pointed with the pen immediately.
"No no."
A grin.
"Acute."
Even Sukuna paused.
"…Math joke?"
"…Math joke."
Then Takeru vanished forward.
The fight exploded instantly.
The opponent swung hard enough to crack the ground—
But Takeru slipped around it.
Not blocking.
Not overpowering.
Writing.
With the pen.
Across the opponent's torso.
Quick marks.
Numbers.
Symbols.
Angles.
Equations.
"…What is he doing?" Hana blinked.
Young Gojo adjusted his glasses slightly.
"…He's calculating."
Everyone stared.
Takeru ducked beneath another punch—
wrote another formula—
spun around a kick—
added another line—
The enemy roared.
"STOP DRAWING ON ME!"
"…No."
More symbols appeared.
Triangles.
Vectors.
Angular calculations.
Trajectory lines.
Even Higuruma looked stunned.
"…Those calculations are legitimate…"
Uro narrowed her eyes.
"…He's mapping movement paths."
Sukuna actually looked interested now.
"…The brat's using predictive geometry."
Yuji blinked rapidly.
"…I don't know what any of that means."
"…He's doing math violence," Hakari explained.
"…OH."
Soon—
the opponent's entire upper body was covered.
Equations wrapped around muscle and skin like cursed tattoos.
Then—
Takeru stepped back.
The enemy attacked again.
A straight punch.
Takeru tilted slightly.
Dodged perfectly.
Another strike.
Again.
Perfect.
Then everyone noticed it.
The formulas were glowing faintly.
Angles became visible around the opponent's body.
Movement paths.
Attack trajectories.
Tiny mathematical predictions unfolding in real time.
If the opponent raised an arm—
an angle appeared.
Shifted weight—
another formula adjusted.
Takeru moved effortlessly through every attack.
No wasted motion.
No panic.
Just calculations.
The opponent became more frantic.
Faster.
Stronger.
More desperate.
But Takeru already knew where every attack would go before it happened.
Young Geto stared.
"…That's terrifying."
Even Sukuna smirked.
"…Ridiculous."
A pause.
"…But impressive."
Finally—
Takeru struck back.
One hit.
Then another.
Then another.
Every impact landed at mathematically perfect points.
Balance collapsed.
Breathing staggered.
Muscles failed.
The opponent dropped to one knee.
Barely conscious.
Almost dead.
Takeru raised the pen.
Like a sword.
Then stopped.
"…Hm."
The enemy looked up weakly.
Takeru grinned.
"Yowai-mo."
A pause.
"…Join us?"
Silence.
From the building—
Yuji yelled:
"DID YOU JUST RECRUIT HIM!?"
Takeru looked back casually.
"…Maybe."
Hakari started laughing again.
"…HE CAN'T STOP COLLECTING STRONG PEOPLE!"
The opponent stared up at Takeru for several seconds.
Then—
slowly—
started laughing too.
"…You're insane."
"…Yeah."
And somehow—
once again—
a fight ended with Takeru trying to make friends.