The Examiner's Seat

Night settled over the Nakatsui estate.

A man knelt inside one of the rooms with two cases placed before him. His chest nearly touched the floor.

Haruto Nakatsui sat above him, broad-shouldered and muscular, with a shaved head, dark brows, small eyes, and a fighter's thick ears. His skin was bronze, his body hard and cleanly proportioned. Two women in dancer's clothing stood behind him, massaging his shoulders.

"Why did you return so late?"

The kneeling man pressed himself lower.

"Master, Toji Fushiguro's reputation is not empty. We could only retrieve the goods after confirming he was no longer nearby."

The room fell silent.

The kneeling man tried to raise his head to signal the two women for help.

His face hit the floor before it rose.

Haruto's foot pressed the back of his head down.

"Useless. You failed the job and still dare raise your head?"

The pressure increased.

"Master," one woman said, "the goods were recovered. Send them over first."

"Yes," the other said. "Do not waste time on garbage."

Haruto withdrew his foot.

"Send him to the island for three years of hard labor."

The man trembled, but did not plead. If he begged now, three years would not be the end.

Haruto took the cases and walked to the rear courtyard.

The courtyard was arranged like a mountain retreat. Even at night, the sound of running water could be heard, and faint fireflies moved through the dark.

"Haruto Nakatsui," a voice called from inside. "You recovered them?"

"Yes."

He placed the cases outside the door.

The sliding door opened. Pale-blue eyes looked out and drew the drugs inside.

Three minutes later, a sigh came from within.

"Still impossible to copy."

Haruto's fists clenched. "What?"

"Are you questioning me?"

Haruto lowered his head at once. He was unwilling, but he could not show it before this being.

The voice inside seemed to understand his frustration.

"Very well. Since you are unconvinced, I will explain. These drugs contain the same thing the Divine Kingdom Cult's products contained. We cannot manufacture that component."

Haruto straightened, shock cutting through his anger.

"Someone obtained the Divine Kingdom Cult's experimental records?"

The figure inside the room did not answer immediately.

Far away, in a rural space that seemed removed from the world, a black shadow moved beside an elderly curse named Obo.

Obo had been born from humanity's disgust with the real world. From the moment of his birth, he disliked cities, crowds, and the filth of human society. He preferred fields, running water, and the quiet shape of an old village.

The black shadow settled beside him on a scorched stone.

"I thought you had truly found a place to retire," it said.

Obo frowned and picked up his pipe, forcing himself to calm down. Cries came from inside the pipe. With each inhale, the sounds decreased. After two pulls, the pipe fell silent.

"What does your master want?"

The shadow waited until Obo finished smoking.

"He did not say much. Only that we wait for orders. When the time comes, we join the encirclement against Ren Zenin and Satoru Gojo."

The pipe snapped in Obo's hand.

He crushed the pieces into ash.

"Has he considered whether we live or die?"

The shadow said nothing.

Obo's anger rose. If no one came for him, nothing happened. If someone did, it was always a command to die.

He punched.

The blow carried enough pressure to flatten the field behind the shadow. The shadow scattered before impact, avoiding the damage.

"You know that attack does little to me."

Obo pulled his fist back, both arms trembling.

"Filth," he said, voice low, "do you understand what that order means? We would face both of them at once. We have no chance."

The shadow's rusty voice showed no fear.

"You have grown too comfortable. You forgot our task. I delivered the message. What you do with it is up to you. Our master has his reasons. We only need to obey."

The shadow dissolved into black water and sank into the soil.

Obo stared after it. Deep in his yellowed eyes, fear stirred.

"The King of Curses?"

In Tokyo, Ren looked at Gojo across the agency office.

"Sorcerer certification?"

"Yes," Gojo said. "You rejected formal promotion yourself. Are you planning to keep your subordinate unrated forever?"

Ren understood.

"Talk to Nanami directly. Why talk to me?"

"Because I want you to come with me as an examiner."

Gojo was already imagining the two of them in a monitoring room, watching Nanami exorcise curses.

"No."

Gojo's smile stiffened.

"You are this free, and you still will not do proper work?"

"No."

"What if I fail him?"

Ren laughed softly. His eyes carried faint mockery.

"Will you?"

Something vast seemed to rise behind Ren, filling half the room with pressure and shadow.

"Or rather, do you dare?"

Gojo's blue aura answered, pushing the shadow back.

"Maybe I would."

The two pressures devoured the room. The desk, the refrigerator, and the papers in the air crumbled into dust. The low-level cursed spirit cooling the corner died instantly.

"Boss," Toji said from the window, crouched like a predator, "do you need me to cut up this blindfold?"

His hand rested behind him. His muscles shifted faintly in the sunlight. The pressure in the room did not affect him.

If anything, he lowered his presence further, habit from a lifetime of killing.

To him, the person in front of him was not the invincible Satoru Gojo.

Only prey.

Gojo removed his sunglasses and looked at him.

Toji's eyes were patient, violent, and still.

"Fine," Ren said. "State your real purpose."

The pressure vanished.

Only Ren's chair remained intact.

Gojo pushed his sunglasses back up and spread his hands.

"Nothing gets past you."

His voice lost some of its playfulness.

"I received a notice from above. If I accept this assignment, I can become a teacher at Jujutsu High after graduation. After the mission ends, I can also represent the Gojo family in higher-up meetings and interfere with their decisions."

His bright eyes showed disgust.

The higher-ups should have been cleaned out long ago.

Ren looked at him.

"Are you not my employee?"

Gojo smiled easily.

"Someone as amazing as me can have two identities."

"Time."

"Seven days. I will come get you."

Gojo vanished, clearly pleased enough to run before Ren changed his mind.

Toji stood and came inside.

"Boss, you lost money on this."

He pointed at the ruined office.

Ren looked at the dust.

"He cannot run from this bill."

Toji dropped a sack onto the floor with a heavy thud.

It opened to reveal blood-red ore. Under sunlight, faint rainbow glints appeared in the stone.

"Kenseki," Toji said. "Found enough to make the glasses."

Ren glanced at it.

"Good."

Toji grinned.

"Yashima said it can see through disguise. If that bald bastard hides again, I will pull him out."

"You are still angry."

"Of course I am angry. He made me waste effort."

For Toji, wasted effort was nearly as offensive as lost money.

Nanami's certification would come in seven days.

Gojo wanted an examiner's seat.

Toji wanted clear-sight glasses.

Yashima wanted curses.

The higher-ups wanted distance.

And somewhere beyond them, curses began moving under orders they could not yet see.

Ren leaned back in the only chair left untouched in the office.

The next few days would not be boring.

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