September 2018.
Mahito stepped through the doorway, followed closely by Kinji Hakari and Sha.
Beyond the door was a resplendent, gilded conference room. A massive table dominated the center of the hall. Aside from Mahito's group, the others had taken their seats long ago. They were dressed in sharp suits, with one man in full military uniform. But anyone with even a passing interest in American politics would immediately recognize the man sitting at the very head of the table.
It was the sitting President of the United States.
The blonde-haired, slightly overweight man sat there, staring in absolute disbelief at the conference room door from which Mahito had just emerged. The President had personally checked that very door moments prior—it led only to a mundane hallway, guarded by Secret Service agents. Yet this impossible man had opened the door without a hint of warning and simply strolled right in.
No, not entirely without warning. Just before this, a Japanese monk had hung a wind chime by the door. He knocked gently, and a young girl poked her head out, exchanged a few words, and when the door opened again, this man arrived.
The Japanese monk, who introduced himself as Kenjaku, stood silently by the door.
The President's face broke into a massive grin. "Don't tell me it's not 2018 anymore? I thought I just time-traveled to 4018! Please, tell me we're in 4018 and portal technology has already been commercialized."
"Unfortunately, Mr. President, we are still in 2018. It is right in the middle of your term, which is precisely why we've come seeking cooperation," Kenjaku said with a touch of humor. "If it were 4018, you likely wouldn't be the one we're negotiating with."
Kenjaku stepped forward proactively and pulled out a chair at the round table. Mahito sat down.
"I'll cut straight to the chase." Mahito smiled, speaking in flawless, unaccented American English. "Gentlemen... do you want immortality?"
Silence.
In the original timeline, when Kenjaku brought Uraume to the US, Uraume—who was unequivocally a person from the distant past—communicated with the Americans without any language barrier. It wasn't something to overthink while reading the manga, but looking at it now, general Jujutsu undoubtedly contained many subtle but incredibly adaptable utility techniques. Case in point: Mahito was now speaking perfectly fluent American English.
"You aren't joking?" The President licked his lips, barely suppressing the tremor of excitement in his voice.
"Didn't you just witness it?" Mahito said lightly. "Jujutsu is far more fascinating than you can imagine. If we can achieve spatial portals straight out of a sci-fi movie, why wouldn't something a little more fictional be possible? The reason you are all sitting here right now... isn't it because you harbor ambitions for exactly this?"
"No, no, no." The President waved his hands unconsciously, chuckling warmly. "We don't have any personal ambitions. This is all for America! The economy is in a slump, people can't find jobs. We, the public servants of America, have long wanted to turn things around. That's why I'm particularly—"
The President launched into an endless, rolling speech. Everyone at the table maintained wooden expressions. Finally, a middle-aged white woman sitting next to the President couldn't help but whisper a reminder, "Mr. President, there are no cameras or reporters in the room right now."
"Oh. Right." The President looked around, keeping his jovial smile perfectly intact, and naturally pivoted. "My apologies, look at me. You know how it is, in America, we must respect the will of the voters. Everything we do is voters first. Even when it comes to something like immortality, we must—"
"Voters first?" Mahito asked, highly amused.
"Yes!" The President looked deeply compassionate. "The immortality you offer relies on technology our science cannot comprehend. Therefore, we cannot accurately assess any potential side effects. So, it is only right that we, the public servants, test it thoroughly on ourselves first before rolling it out to the public!"
Mahito and Kenjaku's expressions didn't change a fraction. The other American officials looked perfectly undisturbed. Only Kinji Hakari, who had wholly underestimated just how shamelessly brazen the US President could be, felt his face twitch uncontrollably. He was Japanese, after all; he had an inherent filter when it came to America. He had come here solemn and prepared for a cutthroat clash of interests, not this nauseating display of hypocritical grandstanding.
*Is this guy really the US President? The supreme leader of the planet's only superpower? You've gotta be shitting me!*
Hakari squeezed a few words out through his teeth in Japanese. "I finally understand why Jogo was so profoundly prejudiced against humans."
Ironically, it was the Cursed Spirit, Sha, who whispered comforting words to him. "Just look at yourself. Humanity still has hope."
*Look at myself?*
A gambling addict, an underground fight club boss, a former Jujutsu fugitive, and someone who knew Kirara Hoshi was biologically male yet still chose to be their boyfriend?
Hakari couldn't even bring himself to say it: *If all of humanity was like me, we'd be even more doomed!*
Mahito applauded loudly. "As expected of the President! Truly a man of the people! You have my utmost admiration!"
Hakari stared at Mahito in absolute disbelief. He wanted to speak but ultimately swallowed his words. Hakari suddenly, deeply realized that his diplomatic skills were utterly trash. This ability to casually spit utter nonsense to humans and ghosts alike—he could practice for a lifetime and never reach this level!
*Yep, I belong in the Jujutsu underworld.* Hakari had never experienced such a crystal-clear epiphany.
"Let's get down to business." Mahito rested his elbows on the round table, steepled his fingers, and rested them over his nose—the classic Commander's pose. "Mr. President, how much do you know about Cursed Energy?"
In the original timeline, Kenjaku's negotiations with the US took place in February 2018. At that time, Kenjaku didn't even have intelligent Cursed Spirits by his side, yet he had already resurrected Uraume. It was obvious that Kenjaku never intended for the intelligent Curses to actually accomplish anything; he had placed all his bets on Ryomen Sukuna.
But things were different now. Mahito was simply too exceptional. He was so effective that Kenjaku was starting to believe Mahito alone could take down Satoru Gojo. And he wasn't entirely wrong—Mahito genuinely almost killed Gojo last time. Even now, Satoru Gojo practically had no viable way to deal with Mahito. Kenjaku's judgment was as terrifyingly accurate as ever.
What wasn't accurate was his constant scheming. He had pulled so many little tricks that Mahito was now radiating genuine murderous intent toward him, forcing Kenjaku to reconsider unleashing Sukuna once again.
The person who answered the question wasn't the President, but the man seated next to him.
It was a tall, thin, elderly white man. His hair was completely white but impeccably groomed. He spoke up proactively:
"Negative human emotions, such as stress, are converted into an energy called 'Cursed Energy.' Japanese citizens constantly leak trace amounts of this energy in their daily lives. When this Cursed Energy accumulates, it births Cursed Spirits—what you call monsters or ghosts. Those who can control Cursed Energy are termed Jujutsu Sorcerers, which we can simply understand as superhuman individuals."
"This phenomenon is fundamentally exclusive to the Japanese population, though there are rare exceptions. As for examples, the proof is sitting right in front of us." The President stroked his chin. "Superhumans, huh. Am I correct to assume each superhuman can only use one specific ability?"
Mahito nodded. "Correct. Innately, every Jujutsu Sorcerer can only wield a single Cursed Technique. In your terms, Mr. President, each superhuman only gets one power. There are, of course, exceptionally gifted individuals who find workarounds to use multiple abilities, but they are statistical anomalies and shouldn't be factored into the general rule."
Pausing for a moment, Mahito smiled. "But I must emphasize: aside from the sorcerers who possess an Innate Technique, the vast majority of Jujutsu Sorcerers *do not* possess one. That might be a bit difficult to grasp, so think of it like magic. If we equate Jujutsu Sorcerers to wizards, some have high aptitude and can cast their own unique, signature spells that no one else can learn or use. But most wizards are weak and can only cast basic, generic spells available to everyone."
The President nodded in appreciation. "Ah, that makes perfect sense. Can you tell me what distinguishes a sorcerer with a special ability from one without?"
Mahito tapped his temple. "As they mature, the presence or absence of a special ability depends entirely on whether an 'Innate Technique' develops within their brain. Of course, you could always use a more scientific method to gather the statistics."
"Such as?"
"Demographics," Mahito replied. "The larger the population, the higher the raw number of Jujutsu Sorcerers born. Consequently, the absolute number of sorcerers possessing an Innate Technique also increases. It's a very simple concept, isn't it? You just brute-force the probability with sheer population numbers."
The President glanced around the table. The others wore thoughtful expressions. He took the lead again. "Is your ability to grant us immortality also derived from your special power? Aside from you, are there other methods of achieving immortality in this world that have already been perfected?"
The old man's intentions were completely transparent. He wanted to acquire a method of immortality that was fully under his own control, rather than relying on the so-called 'ability' of an unpredictable stranger.
Mahito answered with complete transparency, "There are indeed other methods of immortality, but the side effects are catastrophic. The immortality I grant relies entirely on my Innate Technique, and therefore requires almost no sacrifice on your part. But other methods require severe bodily modification or exorbitant Binding Vows... Hmm, you'd likely end up a raving lunatic. Would you like to try that instead, Mr. President?"
Bodily modification? Becoming a lunatic? The President shook his head violently. "No, no, no, I was merely asking!"
"What do the rest of you think?" the President asked his cabinet.
The elderly white man who had explained Cursed Energy earlier spoke without a second's hesitation. "This is a negotiation over resources. If we miss this opportunity, we will fall behind the rest of the world."
The man in the military uniform didn't hesitate either. "If we have individuals with superpowers, even if their physical baseline is normal, they would make exceptional assets. Hmm... not standard infantry. It would be best to consolidate them into highly specialized tactical units. Whether for decapitation strikes or extreme-risk search and rescue, they would be unparalleled."
The middle-aged white woman nodded in agreement. "Or field agents. Frankly, espionage suits them better than the military. After all, a superhuman looks identical to a normal civilian right up until they activate their power. They can bypass any security checkpoint and execute devastating surprise attacks. With a squad of agents like that in our hands, bribery, extortion, and assassination become trivially easy."
A Black official chimed in. "What about R&D? Although the abilities themselves operate as black boxes, much like this gentleman's unique power to grant immortality, an infinite variety of other abilities will inevitably manifest. If we can isolate and reverse-engineer the mechanics behind them, our global hegemony will be permanent."
Another white male official stated bluntly, "Hell, even if we just threw them on a railroad construction crew, they'd be a hundred times more efficient than our current labor force!"
In the original manga, a similar scene played out, but the core ideology was vastly different. The American high command originally viewed Jujutsu Sorcerers solely as a specialized resource. The Secretary of Energy claimed that capturing Satoru Gojo alone could power the entire United States for a year, with zero emissions—the ultimate clean energy.
Yes, literally using Satoru Gojo as a national battery pack. That was the exact premise in the original manga.
But now, because Mahito had openly put immortality on the table, their perspectives shifted organically. They immediately saw the broader applications. Rather than just burning them as fuel, if they could cultivate as many ability users as possible, they could harvest infinite possibilities. They had immortality now; as the sheer volume of Jujutsu Sorcerers grew over the centuries, the possibilities would be limitless.
But listening to this, Kinji Hakari felt a chilling dread creep up his spine.
They were discussing Jujutsu Sorcerers the way butchers discuss how to portion a pig. These people were solely focused on maximizing the utility of the sorcerers. As for the human rights or autonomy of the sorcerers themselves? They acted as if it wasn't even a factor... No, they genuinely didn't care.
This was the superpower that gripped the world through authority and violence. In their hearts, they didn't possess a single shred of concern for the human rights of foreign citizens, or even the livelihood of America's own lower class. Their grand discourse revolved entirely around cementing American hegemony and enriching themselves. Nothing more.
The President was more thrilled than anyone. After all, this was happening during his administration! He felt he was on the verge of cementing a legacy on par with the Founding Fathers. But he still retained a sliver of rational caution. He glanced at the expressions of the men sitting across the table...
Well, there wasn't much to see. Mahito and Kenjaku maintained their polite, unreadable smiles, looking entirely unbothered by the officials enthusiastically brainstorming a hundred different ways to exploit Jujutsu Sorcerers. The two standing behind Mahito, however, were a different story. The Cursed Spirit girl remained completely expressionless, silently watching the farce unfold. Hakari's face, however, looked like a demonic mask; he was trying his hardest to suppress his fury, causing his features to contort violently.
The President jolted and roared at his cabinet. "What do you think you're doing?! Are you asking me to personally order the kidnapping of Japanese citizens?!"
Hakari's expression immediately softened. *Ah, at least the President of a superpower still has a conscience.*
Then the President continued roaring, "What about the Japanese-American demographic and the domestic press?! I have to answer to the voters! If it leaks that I personally authorized the kidnapping of foreign superhumans, my re-election is dead in the water!"
Hakari went completely numb.
The military man spread his hands. "Without a direct, actionable order, I will not move my assets. You know how it is. We in the military require precise directives."
The Black official said coolly, "Securing Japanese superhumans as test subjects for domestic research is a matter of national security. It determines whether America will maintain its status as the planet's sole superpower. Mr. President, I assume you understand the stakes involved?"
The elderly white man spoke gravely. "This is a race! A competition for supreme resources! Cursed Energy *is* energy. Oil, natural gas, fossil fuels, solar, wind, geothermal—everything can be replaced by this. It is the cleanest energy source in human history!"
*Fuck you all, you just want me to take the political fallout!* The President fumed, shouting, "As the President of the United States, I absolutely refuse—"
The middle-aged white woman interrupted impatiently. "Who said anything about an official order? Just find a scapegoat to run an unsanctioned black op and bag the targets. If it never gets out, great. If it does blow up, we maintain plausible deniability, claim the operative went rogue, and throw him in federal lockup until the press cycle dies down. You sign a quiet pardon later and he walks. Why are you acting so dramatically?"
The President choked on his words. He adjusted his collar and muttered, "...Fine. Let's do that."
*Absolutely spectacular.* Mahito thought to himself.
The President cleared his throat and addressed Mahito seriously. "Mr. Mahito, we have other matters to discuss... I'll be direct. You mentioned earlier that Jujutsu Sorcerers are virtually exclusive to Japan, with rare exceptions. Could we... become one of those exceptions?"