Chapter 9

"You, you, you... what on earth did you give Jirou to drink?!"

Gakuto Mukahi was horrified, with every reason to suspect this was a Rikkai conspiracy—eliminating opponents through non-competitive means!

"Relax, relax, it's just a homemade health drink. It won't be life-threatening," Tsukiyomi Higurashi's tone was remarkably breezy. "Look, am I not still alive and well?"

Confirmed.

This person, having been caught in the rain themselves, not only wanted to tear up everyone else's umbrellas but insisted on dousing them with a bucket of water as well.

The philosophy was clearly: I've suffered, so you must suffer too; don't even think about escaping!

What a truly wretched personality!

"Tsuki, don't be an alarmist."

Renji Yanagi felt that his childhood friend had been a bit warped since he started drinking those vegetable-fruit juices, to the point where even he was beginning to doubt the recipe.

But the hesitation lasted only a second before he reaffirmed his conviction: "My vegetable-fruit juice has an absolutely scientific ratio. It will not cause any harm to the human body, so please don't worry."

Rikkai members: "..."

Hyotei members: "..."

Don't pretend that spiritual pollution isn't a form of harm!

Tsukiyomi pointed to a vacant patch of ground: "Renji, do you see it?"

Renji: "?"

"It's a special-grade cursed spirit born from the resentment toward the vegetable-fruit juice."

The black-haired youth said this with utter sincerity. Renji was startled at first, but upon reflection, he realized this was simply a way of teasing him. If there really were such a thing as a special-grade cursed spirit, there was no way Tsuki would be this calm.

The Rikkai team had grown accustomed to their manager occasionally blurting out things that sounded impressively profound; while they didn't quite understand them, they were certain these were sharp, cutting remarks. Each of them stood there trying not to laugh, holding it in with great difficulty.

The boys from Hyotei were completely lost, save for Atobe, in whose bright sea-blue eyes a flicker of realization dawned.

"Ah, I see. Higurashi-kun, are you one of those people from the Jujutsu world?"

Tsukiyomi paused and tilted his head slightly: "Atobe-kun, you've actually heard of them?"

Atobe’s tone was ambiguous, though a hint of mockery lingered in his eyes: "After all, my family is quite wealthy."

"Ah, right. The rotten ora—the higher-ups at the Headquarters love to rope in conglomerates and politicians," Tsukiyomi sighed with genuine feeling. "It seems your family is indeed very wealthy."

Atobe smoothed back his golden bangs, which curled slightly at the ends, and said with some surprise: "You are quite different from them."

The people he had encountered at various banquets were all self-important, reeking of condescending arrogance. When someone approached them, there was an unconcealable contempt in their eyes, as if every word they spoke was an act of charity.

Those arrogant, traditional, insufferable Jujutsu sorcerers were truly detestable and nauseating to the core.

Tsukiyomi acted as if he had been dealt a grave insult: "You're actually comparing me to them?!"

"I am a Jujutsu sorcerer of the new era! How could I possibly be mentioned in the same breath as those stupid, self-righteous rotten oranges who only know how to exploit people!"

Atobe: "You seem to have... strong opinions about those higher-ups?" The term 'rotten oranges' rolled on his tongue twice before he swallowed it back.

It was quite fitting, actually.

"Sorry," Tsukiyomi regained his composure and explained apologetically, "I've been a bit stressed lately because my pockets are empty, so I got a little carried away."

Atobe: He did not refute this.

"By the way, Atobe-kun, would you like to exchange numbers?"

"...Sure." The topic shift was too fast.

The impoverished Tsukiyomi began promoting his business: "I offer services such as exorcising curses and purging evil spirits. If you have any needs, feel free to reach out anytime. Absolute efficiency and speed—curse gone upon arrival, and I even include after-sales service!"

Atobe: "I don't think I'll have such needs."

Tsukiyomi said casually: "Just because you don't need it now doesn't mean you won't later. Cursed spirits and yokai are like natural disasters; you never know when you might run into one..."

"Wait!" Atobe’s brow twitched. "Are there really that many of them?"

Tsukiyomi thought for a moment and spoke the truth: "Yokai rarely appear in the world these days, but as for cursed spirits... relative to the population of Japan, they aren't many, and even fewer can actually affect humans."

However, even these 'not many' cursed spirits outnumbered the sorcerers by hundreds or thousands to one.

There was no need to tell him that, though.

Atobe, for once, lost his composure, his lips twitching uncontrollably.

Who taught you to describe it like that? 'Natural disasters' indeed...

Still, Atobe had a good impression of him, so he went along with it: "I understand. If I have a need, I'll give you a call."

"That's great!"

After seeing the meager balance left in his bank account, Tsukiyomi had immediately messaged his cousin, Teacher Gojo, and the assistant supervisors he knew.

But due to school, distance, and time constraints, there were no suitable missions yet, which left him in the midst of a financial crisis.

Besides that, he had asked his cousin to check on Grandma Higurashi's situation; as expected, she was tied up with work and was currently not at the shrine in Kyoto.

The elderly woman never carried a phone when she went out, so naturally, he couldn't reach her.

His kind-hearted cousin had offered him some financial aid, but the prideful middle-schooler had insisted he could stand on his own two feet, so he had painfully declined.

Yet, he never expected that his path to self-sufficiency would stumble at the very first step: the lack of jobs.

Now that he finally had a potential client—a wealthy one with extensive connections—it was hard for Tsukiyomi not to be tempted.

Atobe noticed that this Higurashi student was looking at him with an intensity that was a bit too eager—not the usual admiration or worship he was accustomed to, but the look of someone gazing at a stack of Fukuzawa Yukichi bills.

He realized for the first time that he wasn't quite used to the way others looked at him.

While the two were talking, the practice match continued according to the schedule.

Perhaps unable to bear watching Tsukiyomi’s performance any longer, Renji, who had been focused on the match, turned, pulled a new notebook and pen from his bag, and shoved them into Tsukiyomi’s hands: "Tsuki, try recording the match."

"Huh?" Tsukiyomi was distracted and asked blankly, "What, me?"

Renji said with great seriousness: "You are the manager of Rikkai. It wouldn't make sense for you not to do this. I'll teach you how to write it down."

"Alright." He accepted this explanation.

Renji placed his notebook between them and pointed to a spot on the page with his index finger: "Let's start with the simple stuff. Follow this format: record the final landing spot of every ball, the score, and the techniques, strategies, skills, and tricks used."

"Wait, Renji, I don't need to remind you that I know absolutely nothing about tennis, right? Is that stuff even something I can spot?"

Faced with the overly self-aware Tsukiyomi, the squinting youth advised: "You'll understand once you watch enough. I'll be here to assist you."

Tsukiyomi said reluctantly: "Fine."

He braced himself and scanned a string of numbers: "What is this?"

"Estimated ball speed."

He pointed to some lines he didn't understand: "And this?"

"Shot trajectory analysis."

Tsukiyomi felt a bit dizzy: "No, this is way too complicated."

"You don't have to worry about those," Renji mused. "How about you just record it based on your own ideas for now?"

He wasn't dizzy anymore after hearing that. He confirmed: "Can I really write whatever I want?"

Renji hesitated, but under the gaze of his childhood friend's bright, dark eyes, he nodded: "Yes."

The match on the court was between Akaya Kirihara and Wakashi Hiyoshi.

Akaya kept his posture low, bouncing with a rhythm as he waited to receive the ball. He observed the incoming shot, changed direction instantly, and utilized the rebound force to boost his starting speed.

Yeah, yeah, got it!

[Seaweed-kun used skill: Toad-style hopping footwork.]

Across the net, Wakashi extended his left arm forward, pulled his right arm back to ear level, and pointed his racket straight ahead. As the ball came, he unleashed incredible speed and power.

[Brown-haired-kun used move: Surprise attack of the ancient samurai.]

After a few back-and-forth rallies, Akaya won the point.

Tsukiyomi first drew a square to represent the court, just like the notes he'd seen, and marked a dot where the ball landed.

By the time the match ended, the notebook was filled with rows of squares with dots in them.

He paused for a moment and added at the bottom—

[Strategy: Unknown]

[Technique: Unclear]

Given his height advantage, Renji easily saw the contents of the notebook.

"Tsuki, what Akaya did isn't called 'Toad-style footwork,' it's called 'Split-step'."

"Eh—? But I think the name I gave it is much more vivid and descriptive."

The other party has rejected your correction and believes they are the most accurate.

"...Then what does 'Ancient Samurai' refer to?"

"Don't you know, Renji? That Hiyoshi student must have studied ancient martial arts; the stance is obvious."

So, using 'ancient martial arts to hit the ball' makes it an 'Ancient Samurai'?

Seeing Renji lost in thought, Tsukiyomi couldn't help but ask: "What's wrong? Is my way of recording not okay?"

"It's not that it's not okay."

Hearing this, Tsukiyomi was satisfied, even feeling a bit puffed up: "Maybe I'm a genius after all!"

"Pfft, cough, cough..." Yushi Oshitari couldn't help it and had to cover it up with an urgent cough.

But clearly, it didn't fool anyone.

Tsukiyomi narrowed his eyes slightly: "Oshitari-kun, may I ask what you are laughing at?"

Under that 'dare to laugh and I'll kill you' gaze, Yushi was very perceptive and said: "I just think the way Higurashi-kun and Yanagi-kun get along is very interesting, right, Ko-chan?"

A vein popped on Atobe's forehead: "How many times do I have to tell you, don't use that unrefined nickname!"

"Ko-chan is being so dishonest. You clearly love it when people call you that, right?" Yushi continued to tease, fearing nothing.

"Heh," Atobe said coldly, "Kabaji!"

"Yes."

No more words were needed; the silent, towering youth understood his meaning and manually forced someone to shut their mouth.

Gakuto Mukahi burst out laughing on the spot: "Hahahahaha, serves you right!"

Chotaro Otori tried to intervene: "Mukahi-senpai, please don't do that."

"Hahahahaha—"

Intervention failed.

Tsukiyomi commented: "I think the way you guys get along is even more interesting, right, Renji?"

Renji found it hard to disagree.