The chewing sounds from the basement faded. The Cursed Spirit seemed content with Sato as an appetizer and showed no interest in hunting for seconds.
With his death confirmed, the familiar system notification chimed inside Touma's head.
[Guidance mission complete.]
[Rewards distributed.]
A clatter broke the silence. A short blade materialized from thin air and dropped onto the concrete at his feet. Asakirimaru. The cursed tool radiated a faint, unsettling hum against his senses.
Alongside it came one premium card draw.
Here's hoping for something useful. Guaranteed R-grade minimum. Bearing Insults and Heavy Burdens was humiliating in concept, but its value was undeniable. Even the embarrassing cards pulled their weight.
The draw landed on the floor. Another R.
[Life is Like a Play [R]: You possess complete mastery over your own emotions. External stimuli cannot shake your composure. It is virtually impossible for others to tell whether you are acting.]
Not bad. No combat applications, but the feeling in his gut said he'd need it sooner rather than later.
[You have completed this simulation's guidance mission. A new simulation charge has been acquired.]
Touma considered his options. Before launching the next run, he swapped Thin Presence out for the freshly drawn Life is Like a Play.
[Equipped Cards (4/4): Simulator [UR], Cursed Energy Allergy [N], Bearing Insults and Heavy Burdens [R], Life is Like a Play [R]]
[Simulation start!]
[Time passes. Your Cursed Energy Allergy signals that the Cursed Spirit has drifted away from the doorway.]
[You slip inside the room to search for anything useful Sato left behind.]
[In his blood-soaked clothes winforms, you find a palm-sized ledger.]
[Every page is crammed with entries. Inflated maintenance costs. Skimmed wages from bottom-rung workers. Even records of sacrificing low-level personnel as bait, documented in meticulous detail.]
[Why would a man record his own crimes? Because even someone as lowly as Sato craved the feeling of holding other people's lives in his hands. The ledger was his trophy case.]
[With this, Sato's death isn't a line-of-duty tragedy. It's what he deserved.]
[You toss the ledger somewhere obvious, haul the catatonic Shinjiro to his feet, and stagger out of the building together.]
[The next day, several black sedans glide to a stop outside the abandoned building.]
[Men and women in dark suits step out. Cleanup and investigation teams from the Windows.]
["Report: Assistant Manager Sato confirmed dead. The Cursed Spirit was exorcised by a Grade 2 sorcerer who arrived shortly after."]
[The lead investigator adjusts his glasses. His gaze drifts to the two survivors huddled in the corner.]
["You two were on-scene witnesses?"]
["Y-yes..."]
[Shinjiro is barely functional. Tears and snot smeared across his face, fingers locked around your sleeve like a drowning man clutching driftwood.]
["Mr. Sato... he flew... he went flying... that thing... there was a monster! A real monster!!"]
[Terror that raw can't be faked. The investigator frowns, then turns to you.]
[You stand with your shoulders hunched, shaking uncontrollably, eyes unfocused. The portrait of a bottom-rung nobody whose mind has cracked clean in half.]
[Life is Like a Play makes every tremor, every vacant stare, look genuine down to the marrow. Even the Grade 2 sorcerer standing nearby doesn't sense anything off.]
["Mr. Sato said there was activity in the basement... told us to go check..." Your voice comes out raw, fracturing between words. "But when he got close to the door, he... he..."]
["That's enough. Picture's clear."]
[Another investigator approaches, holding the blood-stained ledger. His face is ashen.]
["Captain. You need to see this. Sato was dirty."]
[The lead investigator flips through a few pages. Disgust hardens his expression.]
["Embezzlement. Unauthorized operations that got himself killed. Pathetic.... Even dead, the man's a stain on the organization."]
[He snaps the ledger shut and throws a cold glance toward where Sato's body is being carried out, then looks back at the two of you.]
["A pair of useless temp workers, but at least your nerves held. Neither of you went insane."]
["Tokyo's been short-staffed lately. The Assistant Managers assigned to 'those students' in particular... three have already quit."]
[The investigator lights a cigarette and makes a decision.]
[Shinjiro gets sent for psychiatric treatment, then released back into civilian life. That's the best outcome he could've asked for. No more corpses. No more staring down death.]
[You, on the other hand, pass the background check and get reassigned to Tokyo Jujutsu High as a trainee Assistant Manager. Apparently they need someone to sweep floors and file reports.]
[You have acquired a new identity: Tokyo Jujutsu High, Trainee Assistant Manager.]
[Shortly after, you report for duty.]
[This is your first step inside the beating heart of the jujutsu world.]
["Hey. New guy."]
[A lazy drawl floats down from the top of the stone steps. Young, careless, dripping with the kind of arrogance that doesn't bother to justify itself.]
[Three figures stand on the landing.]
[The one in the middle wears round sunglasses. White hair blazes under the sun, almost painful to look at, and even from a distance the aura rolling off him screams one thing: the absolute, unshakable certainty that no one on this earth stands above him.]
[To his left, a black-haired boy with an odd fringe and a gentle, easy smile. To his right, a short-haired girl with a beauty mark beneath her eye and the expression of someone who hasn't slept in three days.]
[Satoru Gojo. Suguru Geto. Shoko Ieiri. The strongest trio of problem children in Jujutsu High's history.]
[You stare at Satoru Gojo, the name you heard whispered with reverence and fear inside the Zenin compound during your last simulation, and the gap between rumor and reality hits like a wall. The presence is unmistakable.]
[Two years as Naoya Zenin's personal furniture have taught you well.]
[You lower your head, step to the side of the path, and slip into the role of a background NPC without missing a beat.]
["We're heading to Shinjuku to buy Kikufuku. Mission report's not done. Handle it."]
[Gojo doesn't spare you a glance. A crumpled stack of paperwork sails through the air and hits you square in the chest. Pages scatter across the ground.]
["Satoru, don't bully the new guy." Geto bends down with a smile, picking up a sheet for you. His tone is warm, but there's a glass wall behind the kindness. "Sorry about that. He's always like this. We're in a rush."]
[You gather the papers...]
[The three of them walk past, laughing among themselves.]
[Behind them, you push up the plain-lens glasses you wear as part of the disguise, watching those three retreating backs. Inside your head, the gears of the next plan are already turning.]