Chapter 52 — Fifty-Two Punch
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"As long as we succeed, the future world will once again become ours."
"With Gojo Satoru gone and Ryomen Sukuna reappearing, we will finally regain the freedom we have long lost."
Inside a luxury hotel suite, the curtains were drawn tight without the slightest gap, casting the room in shadow. Within that darkness, an elderly woman dressed in a kimono, her snow-white hair arranged neatly in a traditional coiffure, twitched her wrinkled face and slowly opened her narrow, slit-like eyes.
"My dear grandson, the future world will belong to the 'new humans.' But I, Ogami, and my precious grandson must also have a place in that future."
"There are still a few of that fellow's 'body fragments' left. Using one now won't hurt. Let those curses witness our power."
"Yes, Grandma."
A man's hand reached out and picked up a small capsule from the table.
Standing beside Ogami, the young man with a crew cut expressionlessly opened his mouth and placed the capsule inside. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed it whole.
Ogami lowered her eyes slightly. With prayer beads hanging from her clasped hands, she activated her technique.
"Descend—Toji Zenin!"
"Ugh…!"
The moment the capsule slid down his throat, the young man's heart pounded violently. He grabbed his body with both hands as he began to tremble uncontrollably. His bones and flesh crackled and popped; bulges writhed beneath his skin, stretching it pale as his body gradually changed shape.
The short green hair lengthened, turning black. His facial features warped as if molded by invisible hands, reshaping rapidly before finally stabilizing into a completely different face.
The transformation ceased. The man straightened his back and turned around.
His eyes were long and narrow, the outer corners slightly upturned. A faint old scar marked the edge of his lips. His features were sharp, cutting like a blade—and yet there was an undeniable resemblance to Fushiguro Megumi.
"So the physical seance was a success," Ogami exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Grandson, what you now possess is the body of the most terrifying Heavenly Restriction in history—the Sorcerer Killer, Toji Zenin. How does it feel?"
"Ah." The man in Toji Zenin's body lowered his gaze briefly before looking up again. "Feels great, Grandma."
"Good, good!" Ogami cried repeatedly. Clutching her prayer beads, she stood up. "Let's go, my grandson."
"I hear there's a secret sorcerer gathering in this hotel this afternoon. We'll massacre them—use their blood to show the curses your strength!"
Ogami walked ahead, her grandson following silently behind her.
"I've heard those curses who call themselves the new humans possess a method to deal with the strongest special grade sorcerer—Gojo Satoru. If we choose to follow them before their plan succeeds, then in the future ruled by curses, curse users who side with them will also have a place."
She continued muttering to herself as she walked. "It's said that besides the incarnated vessels of cursed objects, there are also human curse users cooperating with those special grade curses. That human curse user stands on equal footing with them, and in the future they'll share the new world together. But my dear grandson, now that you possess Toji Zenin's body, you may very well reach the same heights…"
Confident in both her seance technique and her grandson, Ogami never once looked back.
Nor did she notice the pair of hands slowly reaching toward her neck.
They walked all the way to the suite door. Ogami grasped the handle and twisted it open slightly, allowing the corridor lights to spill in through the crack.
Just as she was about to open it fully, her neck suddenly tightened. The words she was about to speak were choked off mid-sentence.
The hand gripping her throat was large, its temperature slightly cold. The "grandson" behind her bent down, his face close to the top of her neatly arranged white hair. His breath brushed against her coiffure.
"Who are you calling your grandson?" the man said darkly. "You old hag."
"Ghk—You're… the real Toji Zenin?" Ogami's drooping eyes widened in rare horror. "How is that possible? I only summoned the physical information of Toji Zenin…"
She raised her hand to activate her technique, but her wrist was seized and snapped effortlessly with a sharp crack.
"You wanted to see blood? …Looking at your own should work too."
"And for your information, my name isn't Toji Zenin. It's Toji Fushiguro."
With that, the man and Ogami disappeared back into the darkness. The half-open door slammed shut with a bang.
Silence lingered.
After a while, something began seeping out from beneath the door, slowly soaking the red carpet in the hallway into a darker shade.
Some time later, the door opened again with a soft click.
The young man had changed out of his white sweater into a black T-shirt. He stuffed a wallet he found in the room into his pocket and stepped out calmly, closing the door behind him.
Holding the "grandson's" phone between two fingers, he glanced at it and muttered to himself, "It's been quite a few years already, huh."
"Then… let's see what kind of changes this world has gone through in that time."
---
Tokyo Jujutsu High.
"Ah, I need to grab that herb…"
"No way, how am I supposed to jump that? The gap's way too wide."
"There's a monster up ahead. Let's try fighting it…"
Saitama was hunched over a small table in his room, furiously pressing the buttons on a handheld console. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door behind him, followed by Genos' voice.
"Sensei!"
Saitama jolted as if electrocuted, watching helplessly as the character on his screen slipped and fell off a cliff because of his trembling hands.
A large line of pixelated text appeared on the screen: You Died.
"Ah… dead again…"
Saitama stared blankly at the flashing screen when Genos stepped inside curiously.
"Sensei, what are you playing?"
"A game." Saitama shook the handheld in his hand. "Since I'm terrible at games, they lent me this so I can practice."
"I see…" Genos paused, then suddenly seemed to realize something. He immediately pulled out a notebook and began writing rapidly. "Using games to cultivate combat instincts and thus become stronger in actual battle… Thank you, Sensei! I've learned something new!"
"That's not it…" Saitama said, sweating a little as he put the console back on the table and decided to change the subject. "Anyway, what did you need me for?"
"It's like this. When I returned to campus earlier, I found a letter addressed to you at the entrance, so I brought it over."
Genos took out an envelope and handed it to Saitama.
Saitama's mind flashed back to the last time he'd received an entire box of wigs. His lifeless eyes stared at the envelope without moving. "It's not from someone holding a grudge against my hero activities again, is it?"
"No." Genos flipped the envelope over to show the sender. "It's from the Jujutsu Sorcerer Association."
"Oh." Saitama paused before finally taking it. He opened the envelope, pulled out the letter, and unfolded it.
It was a printed notice bearing the Jujutsu Sorcerer Association's gold-embossed emblem and stamped with a bright red seal.
"Sir Saitama, we are honored to inform you that you have been evaluated as a Grade 4 Jujutsu Sorcerer. Please proceed to XX location at XX date and time to receive your certificate and badge, and attend the official orientation held by the Jujutsu Sorcerer Association…"
Saitama read the words on the notice aloud, then grumbled, "But it's such a hassle… I don't feel like going…"
He sighed and casually glanced over the notice again. Suddenly, he froze. "Wait a second. It says the venue will provide drinks and a buffet… Ah, then I guess I'll go after all."
Genos let out a slight sigh of relief and said to Saitama, "Sensei's promotion review has been approved. Congratulations, Sensei."
"Well, it's not really a big deal." Saitama rolled up the notice in his hand, raised his fist to his mouth, and deliberately cleared his throat before patting Genos on the shoulder in encouragement. "If you work hard, Genos, you'll definitely reach Grade 4 soon too."
"Sensei, I have already been recommended to become a Grade 2 Jujutsu Sorcerer," Genos replied solemnly. "Fushiguro Megumi and Inumaki Toge voluntarily put in recommendations for me. The application has already been submitted."
Saitama's hand froze mid-pat. "You're kidding…"
"It's true, Sensei."
"I see."
Saitama silently withdrew his hand and sat back down at the table.
Noticing Saitama's mood dip slightly, Genos immediately added, "However, Sensei need not feel discouraged because of this. If it weren't necessary to conceal from the higher-ups the fact that Sensei has no cursed energy, you would surely be immediately recommended as Special Grade and become a legendary hero remembered for generations to come—"
"...Genos, stop." Saitama interrupted with a tearful expression. "The more you say, the more embarrassed I feel about encouraging you just now!"
"I'm sorry, Sensei!"
Genos obediently sat to the side without another word. Saitama stared blankly at the rolled-up notice in his hand, then opened it again to double-check.
"Wait a second… this time… isn't it this afternoon?"
…
2:00 PM.
Dressed in his usual yellow jumpsuit and white cape, Saitama stood at the entrance of the five-star hotel listed on the notice. Around his wrist hung an additional silver bracelet he didn't normally wear.
—It was the cursed tool Gojo Satoru had given him before he left.
"This bracelet doesn't have any special function. It just stores a certain amount of cursed energy," Gojo had explained while handing it over. "The amount it emits roughly corresponds to the cursed energy a Grade 4 sorcerer would give off in daily life outside of combat."
"At the moment, we only have bracelets that release small amounts of cursed energy. So as long as your official rank doesn't exceed Grade 3, you can use this to fake your cursed energy output."
"As long as the higher-ups don't find out you don't have cursed energy, it'll be fine. At your current rank, you normally wouldn't encounter them anyway. But just in case, you should wear it."
Gojo's words still echoed in his ears. Saitama glanced at the bracelet on his wrist, then lifted his gaze toward the imposing hotel in front of him.
"It's pretty fancy," he muttered to himself as he stepped forward.
To one side of the hotel entrance stood a signboard decorated with flowers along its edges. It read:
"Chuu-Chuu Shogi Research Association Offline Gathering — Participants Please Proceed to the Fifth Floor (Private Booking)"
Saitama entered the elevator and rode it up to the fifth floor. As soon as the doors opened, he widened his eyes in surprise.
"Oh—"
Directly in front of the elevator was the venue publicly labeled as the "Chuu-Chuu Shogi Research Association Offline Gathering," which was in reality the Jujutsu Sorcerer briefing session. The grand entrance shimmered with gold and crystal, flanked by vibrant floral stands. Behind the reception desk stood young female staff members dressed in formal black furisode kimono.
Saitama lifted his foot and walked toward the hall. But just as he reached the entrance, an arm holding a folding fan suddenly extended from the side, blocking his path.
"Oh?"
Saitama turned his head and saw a man leaning against the wall beside him, dressed in a dark kimono and white hakama. His eyes were slightly upturned as he looked at Saitama with a sideways glance.
Holding the fan in one hand across Saitama's chest, the man slowly straightened and stepped forward until he stood directly in front of him.
"Where did this country bumpkin come from?"
He spoke in a Kyoto accent. He shot Saitama a disdainful look, though he wasn't actually addressing him. Instead, he directed his question at the woman behind the reception desk. "Is he some kind of party entertainer? Did we invite someone like this to liven things up? Who approved that? Tokyo people really have awful taste. If you ask me, you'd be better off hiring Kyoto kabuki performers."
"W-We're very sorry, Zenin-sama…" The female staff member bowed hurriedly in apology before trotting over to Saitama. "This venue has been reserved by the Chuu-Chuu Shogi Research Association. Entry is restricted to participants only…"
"This is the orientation for newly promoted sorcerers, right?" Saitama asked blankly. "I'm a hero for fun—no, I guess now I'm also a professional hero… uh, Grade 4 Jujutsu Sorcerer, Saitama. This is my notice."
He handed over the crumpled notice. The staff member looked surprised. She glanced nervously at Zenin Naoya's expression before carefully accepting the paper.
"...Confirmed. This is indeed an official notice issued by the Association." She quickly returned it to Saitama, hurried back behind the desk, and retrieved his Grade 4 certificate, badge, and a boxed corsage. She placed them in his hands and straightened the sign-in book. "Please sign here."
The fan blocking his path snapped shut with a sharp sound. Zenin Naoya shot Saitama an unpleasant sideways glance before turning and walking away.
Saitama stared blankly at Naoya's retreating back, then turned back to accept his certificate. "What's with that guy?" he couldn't help asking.
"Ah… that gentleman…" The staff member gave a bitter smile. "It can't be helped. He's a Special Grade 1 sorcerer, and practically guaranteed to be the next head of the Zenin clan—one of the 'Three Great Families.' It's best not to offend him…"
Special Grade 1, huh… As Saitama wrote his name in the sign-in book, he absentmindedly thought, that's just below Special Grade, right?
But that guy didn't give off any particular feeling. He seemed kind of weak.
Snapping back to reality, Saitama suddenly realized he had written his name crookedly into someone else's box. The staff member was sweating nervously, her hand half-raised as if unsure whether to remind him.
Saitama quickly lifted his pen. "Ah, sorry."
…
"Welcome, everyone, to today's ceremony. Those present here will become the backbone of the jujutsu world in the future…"
"This quarter, one sorcerer has advanced to Grade 2, three to Grade 3, and six to Grade 4. Across all of Japan, the strength of our sorcerers remains severely insufficient…"
"We hope that in the future, you will continue dedicating your efforts to the jujutsu world…"
A representative from the Jujutsu Sorcerer Association stood at the podium with a microphone, speaking fluently in front of a projected PowerPoint presentation.
Seated below, the newly promoted sorcerers were dressed in formal suits or kimono, corsages pinned neatly to their chests displaying their names and ranks, sitting upright in their chairs.
"Recently, reported cases of unnatural deaths—curse-related murders—have risen sharply. We are maintaining close cooperation with the Japanese police…"
Yet from the seating area below, a steady chomp chomp sound could be heard.
Saitama sat among the newly promoted sorcerers, his corsage pinned crookedly to his chest. With one hand, he held a plate piled high with melon slices, ham, bacon, and other buffet items provided by the venue. His cheeks were stuffed full as he chewed, staring blankly at the staff member speaking above.
"So, in other words, sorcerers are actually…"
The staff member in charge of hosting spoke while repeatedly glancing in Saitama's direction, his expression gradually darkening.
That bald guy isn't even wearing formal attire, and he's not listening seriously either—what is he here for…
"Ahem." Realizing he had no idea how to continue, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "In any case, that concludes what I wanted to say. Next, we have a special guest for this briefing session—Mr. Naoya Zenin, Special Grade 1 Sorcerer of the Zenin clan, one of the 'Big Three Families,' who will address everyone!"
Amid applause, Naoya Zenin strode leisurely onto the stage and accepted the microphone handed to him.
Saitama began eating the bacon on his plate. "…"
"First of all," Naoya Zenin said, gripping the microphone, "I would like to congratulate everyone here on your successful promotion. Though, of course, some of you are Grade 2… and some are Grade 4."
"…" At his opening remark, the sorcerers seated below displayed a variety of expressions.
"Well, I assume you all know that those who can see curses are one in ten thousand. And among those who can see curses, those who become sorcerers are one in ten thousand more. If human society is a pyramid, then sorcerers stand at its very apex."
"And the Big Three Families stand at the summit of sorcerers. Among them—our Zenin clan."
Naoya Zenin's narrow eyes curved slightly. "You've all heard this saying, haven't you? 'One who is not a Zenin is unworthy to be a sorcerer; one who is not a sorcerer is unworthy to be human.'"
In the silence that followed, the sound of Saitama chewing bacon rang out.
"Never heard it."
"…"
In that instant, all the sorcerers turned to stare at Saitama in astonishment.
Ignoring him entirely, Naoya Zenin continued, "Therefore, as the legitimate heir of the Zenin clan and its future head, I declare now that some among you will absolutely not go far in the jujutsu world."
At this point, he paused for a few seconds, suddenly took a deep breath, and raised the folding fan in his hand, pointing directly at the bald head in the crowd.
"For example—you, that baldy over there!" Naoya Zenin narrowed his eyes and said viciously.
Saitama's expression stiffened. "…Baldy!?"
"You—"
Naoya Zenin was about to continue when hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from the entrance of the hall. The female staff member from the registration desk rushed in, flustered and out of breath.
"Something terrible has happened!"
Seeing her panicked state, Naoya Zenin frowned in displeasure. "What is it?"
"Just now, a cleaning staff member discovered the body of an elderly woman in a luxury suite on the 23rd floor of the hotel. The cause of death was her throat being stabbed," the woman said urgently. "The police will be arriving soon…"
"That's it?" Naoya Zenin clicked his tongue. "You're this flustered over something so trivial? This is exactly why women can't handle things. You're both a staff member of the Association and an assistant supervisor, yet you panic over something so ordinary. It seems the only thing you have going for you is your face…"
"N-No, Lord Zenin…" the female staff member hurriedly shook her head. "The body that was discovered belongs to the infamous curse user, 'Granny Ogami'!"
At that instant, whether it was the sorcerers attending the briefing or Naoya Zenin standing on stage, every single one of them revealed expressions of shock.
"Has her identity been confirmed?"
After a brief moment of astonishment, Naoya Zenin set down the microphone, quickly stepped off the stage, and spoke quietly with the female staff member.
Saitama swallowed the food in his mouth and nudged the person beside him with his elbow. "Excuse me, who's Granny Ogami?"
Seated next to Saitama was a young man in his twenties with short brown hair. A corsage pinned to his chest read: "Takuma Ino · Grade 2."
"Seriously? You don't even know who Granny Ogami is?" Takuma Ino widened his eyes in surprise, glancing at the crooked corsage on Saitama's chest. "Saitama, Grade 4… I see. You've just been promoted to the lowest grade. So you're a rookie. No wonder you dared to ignore Naoya Zenin to his face and don't even know who Granny Ogami is."
Takuma Ino patted his chest enthusiastically. "Then let me—Takuma Ino, recently and gloriously promoted to Grade 2, and future Grade 1 without a doubt—explain it to you!"
"Granny Ogami was one of the most heinous curse users active over the past several decades. The number of lives she's taken is easily in the triple digits."
Facing Saitama's blank expression, Takuma Ino began recounting history.
"Several decades ago, sorcerers weren't as powerful as they are now. Just dealing with the curses appearing across Japan exhausted all their strength. So some infamous curse users of that era took advantage of the times to run rampant, acting lawlessly without restraint."
"Granny Ogami was one of them," Takuma Ino said, raising a finger. "Her technique was 'Séance.' Using a corpse as a medium and a human body as a vessel, she could summon and utilize the physical body or soul of the deceased."
"However, after the birth of Special Grade Sorcerer Satoru Gojo, the balance of the jujutsu world shifted. Many of the evil curse users who once dominated the scene went into hiding out of fear that Gojo would settle accounts with them. Granny Ogami was no exception."
"Come to think of it…" Takuma Ino fell into thought. "Why would Granny Ogami, who disappeared for so many years, suddenly reappear—only to die in a hotel? And who could possibly be strong enough to kill someone who once stirred the winds and clouds of her era…"
Saitama continued chewing cake with the same vacant expression. "…But if the one who died was an evil curse user, then maybe the person who killed her was a sorcerer?"
"No, that's unlikely." Takuma Ino shook his head. "If a sorcerer had killed her, they would have immediately reported it to the Association and made sure the achievement was recorded in their file."
"…Is that so?"
Saitama kept chewing, thinking blankly to himself: I've taken down so many evil organizations, and I've never once reported it on my own.
At that moment, Naoya Zenin suddenly finished his conversation with the staff member and turned around. He glanced at Saitama's dull expression, a malicious smile spreading across his face.
"Although it's Granny Ogami's corpse that was discovered, gathered here today are all the sorcerers who were promoted this quarter. There couldn't be a better opportunity."
His voice drew everyone's attention back.
"Change of plans," Naoya Zenin announced with a smile. "Next, you will all accompany me to investigate the scene of Granny Ogami's death."
He cast a meaningful look at Saitama.
"That way, you'll understand what kind of people are qualified to be sorcerers—and what kind of people will only be eliminated by the jujutsu world…"
One after another, the crowd stood up and followed Naoya Zenin out of the hall.
Noticing the way Naoya Zenin kept staring at Saitama, Takuma Ino began to sweat and whispered, "Rookie, this is bad. That Kyoto-accented guy has definitely set his sights on you. He might humiliate you in public later. Maybe you should avoid the spotlight and find an excuse to leave first…"
Saitama quickly finished the last bit of food on his plate, set down the plate and fork, and stood up. The crystal chandelier overhead reflected off his bald head, making it shine brilliantly, his cape fluttering behind him.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "I just finished eating. A walk to help digest sounds perfect."