However, Naoya Zenin had no ti to dwell on Satoru Gojo's strange behavior right now.
Because he suddenly realized his attendant was missing.
"Oda! You idiot! Where the hell did you run off to?!"
Before Naoya Zenin could get more than a few curses out, he turned around and saw that the middle-aged man had been stopped at the palace entrance, forcibly blocked by the guards.
"Young Master..."
Before Oda could say anything, Naoya Zenin strode over with a cold expression.
"What happened?"
"Naoya Zenin-sama."
The palace guard explained the situation with a humble expression.
"According to the rules, without an invitation, a lowly person like this is absolutely not permitted to enter..."
"He's with ."
Naoya Zenin frowned.
"Do even my own people need an invitation now?"
"...My apologies, Naoya Zenin-sama, but these are rules set by [Jujutsu Headquarters]. To ensure the safety of the distinguished guests inside, even your attendants must wait outside."
The guard's right hand rested on the Cursed Tool at his waist. His tone remained respectful, but his gaze was unyielding.
"That posture of yours. Are you planning to make a move on ?"
Naoya Zenin narrowed his eyes slightly.
"I wouldn't dare."
"Oh, co on, what's there to argue about? That's just how the rules are, Young Master. Please calm down. Why don't we just forget it?"
Oda shrank his neck. Even knowing full well Naoya Zenin would scold him for it, he still scratched his head and forced out a lowly, placating smile.
"That's how it's always been, after all. I... soone like was never fit to enter a banquet like this in the first place. Maybe I've got a few drops of Zenin Clan blood in , but at the end of the day, I'm just so useless poor nobody..."
Oda's voice grew quieter and quieter.
He felt unbearably ashad.
Like a mole that had wandered into a jewelry shop, completely out of place.
He raised a hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead, then hesitated, afraid he might dirty the kimono he was wearing. After all, it belonged to the young master. His cheap life couldn't possibly repay the cost of it.
Oda hunched over, his head nearly dropping to his chest, like a wild weed withered by frost.
But in the next mont, a large hand smacked him hard across the back, making the middle-aged man instantly straighten up.
"Stand up straight. Don't lower your head."
Naoya Zenin spoke.
"You're my servant. Without my permission, do not bow your head to anyone."
"O-Okay!"
Although Naoya Zenin's tone was as arrogant as ever, for so reason...
Oda could feel a gentleness in it he had never sensed before.
Then the haughty noble turned, face cold, and looked at the palace guard.
"What gave you the courage to overstep your place?"
Naoya Zenin's Cursed Energy erupted on the spot, and even the hardline guard couldn't help feeling his legs go weak.
That pure energy born from negative emotions was being driven to its absolute peak by this man's anger.
"Was it my generosity? Or your stupidity?"
"Gulp..."
The nobles watching the show from afar looked at one another.
Everyone knew what this ant.
What kind of madness had gotten into the Zenin family's young master today?!
Wasn't he the one who usually loved looking down on servants and defending the status of the Three Great Families more than anyone else?!
So why was he about to throw hands with the palace guards just because they stopped a house servant today?!
This wasn't even a fight on the sa level, was it?!
Even Satoru Gojo had no idea what kind of fit Naoya Zenin had suddenly decided to throw.
Ever since their first eting, he had felt that sothing about this guy was off.
Although Satoru Gojo had never had much to do with Naoya Zenin before, his bad reputation had long since spread all across Kyoto.
Arrogant, conceited, lawless, domineering...
From start to finish, everything about him scread the exact kind of cold-blooded noble Satoru Gojo hated most.
But for so reason, after seeing him in person, Satoru Gojo felt that Naoya Zenin wasn't quite the way the outside world described him. Faintly, there seed to be a trace of human warmth to him.
Should he stop this?
But then again, these guards really were looking down on people. Oda was clearly Naoya Zenin's servant, and yet they insisted on stopping the middle-aged man from entering.
People at the bottom loved hurting each other the most.
Did the guards think they were sohow superior to a servant like Oda, soone who only got to bask in Naoya Zenin's reflected glory?
Was that why they were making things difficult for him?
No.
That wasn't it.
It had to be because of that.
What happened at Jujutsu High had already spread through all of Kyoto.
Naoya Zenin had not only offended the conservatives during his speech, he had also slapped Momo Nishimiya in the face in public, which ant he had simultaneously provoked both the higher-ups of the jujutsu world and the U.S. military stationed in Japan.
So these lackeys had started making assumptions about what their superiors wanted and decided to give the young master of the Zenin Clan a little show of force.
It was exactly like how things had once been for him.
Satoru Gojo couldn't help recalling his own past.
He was born a young master of Kyoto, and the sole heir of the Gojo Clan. No matter how you looked at it, he should never have had to leave for Tokyo to study.
It was precisely because Satoru Gojo had been born unwilling to submit to his family's arrangents, because he was sick of all this disgusting social maneuvering, and because he was deeply disappointed in those foolish, incompetent Kyoto bigwigs, that he left Kyoto and chose Tokyo instead, to seek out a future path for the jujutsu world.
And in the end, Satoru Gojo had been right.
He had made it all the way in Tokyo without owing anyone a thing or worrying about keeping up appearances, until he beca the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the modern era.
The purest existence in the jujutsu world, and the freest one as well.
Satoru Gojo had no intention of intervening.
Instead, he picked up the tiramisu beside him and, with great interest, began watching the show from the crowd.
The bigger the ss, the better.
Naoya Zenin, if you really do want to sit beneath Aoyama's night cherry blossoms and drink with , then let get a good look at what you can actually do.
"That's enough."
At last, soone from the crowd stepped forward to play peacemaker.
A blonde beauty yawned as she strolled over at an easy pace.
"Hey there, handso. No need to get this mad, right? Have a drink. I'll apologize on his behalf."
"You think an apology from you settles it?"
Naoya Zenin's voice was cold and hard, and the Cursed Energy roiling around him did not lessen in the slightest.
"Oh? Quite the temper."
The blonde woman lifted a brow. Not only did she not back off, she actually stepped half a pace closer.
With that lazy, languid air around her, she sohow tore open an effortless little gap in the crushing pressure of Naoya Zenin's Cursed Energy.
"You're the young master of one of the Three Great Families. Throwing a fit over a few gate guards won't sound very good once word gets out."
"Do I need to care what insects think?"
"Alright, alright. Who told you to be handso?"
The woman let out a long sigh, then turned her head toward the guard standing nearby in a cold sweat.
"Yuki Tsukumo-sama..."
How could the guard possibly fail to recognize this blonde beauty? He imdiately addressed her with utmost respect.
The instant that na was spoken, the surrounding nobles fell completely silent, even unconsciously lightening their breathing.
"That frivolous woman is Yuki Tsukumo?!"
Soone in the crowd blanched and instinctively shrank back.
"How is that possible?! Yuki Tsukumo is the oldest and most unfathomable senior among the Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerers! How could she be the sa woman who was sneaking around grabbing my ass in the chaos just now?!"
Most of the younger generation had never seen Yuki Tsukumo before.
Even the old hands of the jujutsu world could only identify her from vague, blurry mories.
Because this woman was simply too committed to slacking off.
Out of 365 days in a year, she spent at least 364 traveling overseas. Even her appearance and style had practically started to look Western.
This person was actually the famous Yuki Tsukumo?!
"Kneel."
Before the guard could even finish saluting, the Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer gave the order in a soft, gentle voice.
"Can't you hear that soone's still angry? You're just a watchdog. How dare you talk about rules in front of one of the Three Great Families?"
Yuki Tsukumo said it in a tone as tolerant and kind as if she were showing rcy.
"Slap your own mouth."
The palace guards, their faces and lips drained of all color, dropped to their knees as though crushed under a mountain of weight, then raised trembling hands and viciously slapped themselves across the face.
"You can stop once this handso little guy is satisfied."
Then the Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer turned around with a bright, lively air. Her tone toward Naoya Zenin softened at once, and she even boldly tugged at his sleeve.
"Handso, don't let these idiots ruin your mood tonight."
For a mont, Naoya Zenin had no idea what Yuki Tsukumo was really after.
Was she seriously just one of those face-obsessed types?
We're not even remotely that close, are we?!
"Got the form of address wrong, didn't you?"
Naoya Zenin shook off Yuki Tsukumo's hand and spoke indifferently.
"Shouldn't it be Young Master Zenin?"
"Huh? I just did you a huge favor here. Did you really have to be this cold about it?"
"Oda, follow . From now on, unless I say otherwise, don't fall behind on your own again."
"The hell? You're ignoring a fragrant, gorgeous beauty for so stinky middle-aged man?!"
Just as the three of them were about to enter the palace, a trembling voice ca from outside the gate.
"N-Naoya-sensei! Could you take in with you too?"
Naoya Zenin frowned and turned around, only to find, to his complete surprise, a blue-haired girl shivering in the cold wind.
"Um... I-I got stopped at the gate too..."
Kasumi Miwa scratched her head and gave an awkward smile.
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