Jujutsu Kaisen — Chapter 44 - Framed Crimes and the Starting Point of Divergence

"Just as I thought. Based on the supervisor's report, Suguru Geto's psyche was already twisted long ago. Riding the current this time was absurdly easy."

The balding elder tossed a handful of blood-soaked photographs onto the redwood conference table. The corners of his mouth, skin like dried tree bark, pulled into a cold and sinister arc.

In the photos, the muddy ground of Old Water Village was littered with over a hundred corpses, sprawled in every direction.

"That said, the Assistant Supervisor's mental fortitude was far too weak. We told him to dispose of those ignorant peasants, and the fool went and scared himself half out of his mind."

The old crone across from him blew at the tea leaves floating in her cup without lifting her eyelids. "It doesn't matter, as long as the job was done cleanly."

"Insane isn't safe enough." The old man leaned back in his chair. "I've already sent men to quietly dispose of the supervisor."

Last time, they had been trampled underfoot by Toji Fushiguro and Satoru Gojo, forced to sign a humiliating self-criticism letter.

That pent-up rage had festered in the hearts of Jujutsu Headquarters' upper echelon ever since, gnawing at their dignity like a venomous snake.

But they didn't dare go after Satoru Gojo.

That monster with the Six Eyes could flatten all of Kyoto in an instant.

Even less did they dare go after Toji Fushiguro. That body, zero Cursed Energy, yet capable of tearing Special Grade Cursed Spirits apart with bare hands, was a rabid dog that defied all common sense.

"So. We start by making an example of Suguru Geto."

The old man's withered fingers tapped on Suguru Geto's file.

"A commoner sorcerer from an ordinary family, no shelter from the Three Great Families. Aside from a slightly unusual technique, he has absolutely no political leverage."

His murky eyes gleamed with cold calculation. "This time, he took it upon himself to act against ordinary people. He's already crossed the line. We're merely helping him fulfill his own wish."

The crone added in the same cold tone: "117 lives, all non-sorcerers. Once we pin the charge of slaughtering a village on him, he'll be an utterly irredeemable Curse User."

"No matter how wild Satoru Gojo and Toji get, can they really stand against all of society? They can't protect Suguru Geto."

Using this pile of corpses, they would issue a wanted order with complete legitimacy.

Killing Suguru Geto would kill the chicken to warn the monkey, and viciously tear apart that insufferably arrogant iron triangle at the school in the process.

"Go. Have the deaths classified right now as failure to receive timely treatment, exsanguination." The old man rose and straightened the hem of his kimono.

"I'd like to see just how long that self-righteous pack of youngsters can keep up their arrogance when faced with ironclad evidence."

......

The thick reek of disinfectant couldn't cover the nauseating stench of blood and rot clinging to the two girls.

The high school's underground infirmary.

Shoko Ieiri's fingertips glowed with the soft halo of Reverse Cursed Technique, slowly mending the torn and gaping wounds across Nanako's back.

"Ah — no! Don't touch me!"

Even mid-treatment, the instant that glow made contact with her skin, Nanako shrieked like a dying animal.

She scrambled backward frantically, throwing herself toward Suguru Geto at the bedside. Both hands clamped onto the loose fabric of his trousers, knuckles draining white from the force.

Beside her, Mimiko was in even worse shape. She couldn't even cry out. She just trembled violently, biting down hard on the hem of Suguru Geto's jacket, tears and snot smeared across her face.

In their minds, every living person in the world except this one man who had pulled them out of hell was a demon holding a whip and a sickle.

Suguru Geto crouched down, his broad palm settling gently over Nanako's dry, yellowed hair.

"Don't be afraid. Shoko isn't like those people outside. She's saving you."

He looked down at the two children. That intermittent nausea that had been crawling up from his stomach, right now, miraculously, it was quiet.

Because he had finally worked it out.

No need to compromise or yield to those ignorant, selfish non-sorcerers.

No more protecting monkeys. Only protect those of his own kind who bore Cursed Energy.

The thought made the mountain that had been pressing down on his mind for days feel as though it had crumbled all at once. His whole body felt light.

"The old wounds on this girl — at least half of them were made with rusted iron wire." Shoko Ieiri studied the faint marks still visible on the healed skin, and her gaze went cold.

She never engaged in moral judgment. But as a doctor, this kind of deliberate, naked cruelty still turned her stomach.

"Simply because they awakened a faint trace of Cursed Energy." Suguru Geto stood up. His voice was calm and flat, like standing water.

"These monkeys without Cursed Energy can't comprehend this power, so they pinned every disaster on these two, caged them like livestock, and used them to vent."

"Suguru."

A cool voice came from the doorway.

Satoru Gojo was leaning against the door frame. No one knew how long he'd been there.

His pale blue Six Eyes were fixed on Suguru Geto. The face that usually wore a lazy grin was taut, without a trace of its usual ease.

"This time, you went too far."

Satoru Gojo straightened up, hands in his uniform pockets, long legs carrying him into the room.

"They weren't the fanatical cultists from the Star Religious Group who hire assassins. They were just ordinary people."

Suguru Geto turned around.

He saw disagreement in Satoru Gojo's eyes.

You think I went too far? Suguru Geto's mouth tugged at one corner.

He only found it absurd.

You, the young master born standing above the clouds, pampered by the Three Great Families since childhood, how could you possibly smell the rot festering at the bottom of those monkeys' souls?

How could you possibly understand the despair of using Cursed Spirit Manipulation every single day, the acid burning back up your throat?

"Satoru, they were the abusers. They were the trash who persecuted fellow Jujutsu Sorcerers. A bunch of useless monkeys. I didn't kill them — I left them their worthless lives, let them keep crawling through the mud. That already counts as restraint." Suguru Geto stared straight into those Six Eyes, not yielding an inch.

"You call this restraint?" Satoru Gojo stepped forward, his voice cracking sharp. "You used private force to pass judgment on ordinary people! Jujutsu Sorcerers exist to exorcise Cursed Spirits — and right now you're using that power to unilaterally crush non-sorcerers! Have you forgotten? That's what you told me!"

"Oi, oi, oi. The bonds of youthful friendship don't allow this kind of shouting match, you brats."

Toji Fushiguro strode over and pressed a hand onto each of their shoulders.

"Burning yourselves out over a bunch of garbage with brains full of filth, did you feed your whole youth to the dogs?" He rounded his eyes and barked.

"Suguru just broke their legs. No one died. What's the big deal?"

He shook both their shoulders hard.

Toji Fushiguro's judgment was simple.

No lives lost. No crossing of the core red line. The school could cover for it.

Satoru Gojo frowned and said nothing.

It wasn't that he sympathized with those villagers. He had simply sensed, with sharp precision, that something inside Suguru Geto had snapped completely.

That extreme coldness, lumping every non-sorcerer together as "useless monkeys", felt like a stranger's voice coming out of a familiar face.

He complained too. But it was just venting. Suguru Geto's thinking, though, seemed to be curdling into something else entirely.

"I did all of this alone." Suguru Geto stepped back half a pace and brushed Toji Fushiguro's hand off his shoulder.

"Neither of you are to step in for me."

"I'll bear whatever comes myself. I don't need the school to cover for me. I don't need either of you interfering."

Suguru Geto looked straight at both of them.

BOOM!

The heavy infirmary door was kicked open from outside. It slammed into the wall hard enough to shake lime dust loose from the ceiling.

Masamichi Yaga stood in the doorway, chest heaving.

His short hair, always immaculate, was disheveled. Cold sweat beaded at his temple. His fist was clenched so tight around a few thin sheets of fax paper that the veins stood out across the back of his hand.

Masamichi Yaga almost never lost his composure like this.

"Principal?" Shoko Ieiri stopped her treatment.

Masamichi Yaga crossed the room in a few strides, staring at this student, once his proudest, most rule-abiding honor student, his teeth grinding together.

"You'll bear it alone?" His voice sounded like a volcano being forcibly held shut, hoarse and barely controlled. "Tell me, with what will you bear it!"

He slammed the photographs and documents hard against Suguru Geto's chest.

The papers scattered across the floor. The high-resolution black-and-white photos and the bold red urgent-stamp seals hit everyone's eyes like a slap.

"Jujutsu Headquarters issued the highest-level wanted order 10 minutes ago!" Masamichi Yaga's voice tore out of him, his eyes nearly bloodshot.

"Old Water Village, Nagano Prefecture. 117 people, including the village chief. Not a single survivor. All officially dead from failure to receive timely treatment, exsanguination!"

Masamichi Yaga seized Suguru Geto by the collar and hauled him up off the ground.

"This is what you meant by 'I alone will answer for what I've done'? You slaughtered an entire village!"

.

Don't worry, everyone, keep reading. See how Teacher Might beats sense back into a lost young man.

➤ Next: Different Paths — Tears Unshed