April 17th, 2017
A little over a month and a half had passed since Zenin Maki, Inumaki Toge, Yami Sukehiro, and Panda enrolled in the first year of the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College
Amidst the green field surrounded by running tracks, a mocking laughter echoed.
"Guys, no matter how I look at you, you're all kissing the ground," the blond hair of the youngest special-grade sorcerer swayed in the wind, and a provocative smile adorned his face.
Around him, at various distances, lay beaten and exhausted first-year students from the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College
"Panda doesn't like this kind of training," the big panda, sprawled on the ground and unable to get up, muttered tearfully, looking at his torn ear in front of his face.
"Sal... mo... n," Toge rasped, resisting the urge to cough up another ounce of blood.
The most silent among them was Maki. Unlike her classmates, who had only started this hellish training a week ago, she had been living in a routine of sleeping, eating, being beaten into unconsciousness and sleeping again for a month and a half. She was also well aware that if she opened her mouth, she might accidentally vomit.
In the distance, from the stands, a tall, white-haired man watched.
"Pretty cruel for a training spar," a bass male voice sounded behind Satoru Gojo. "In the past week, I've sewn back more parts of Panda than in all the time before."
"Well, one should expect nothing less from Tyrannus Abaka's greatest creation," the strongest shrugged.
"Did I detect admiration in your tone?" Even the black sunglasses couldn't hide the well-built man's surprise.
"Whether I want to admit it or not, that old man turned Sukehiro into a real monster," Satoru continued, tapping his finger. "You know, as a sorcerer, that bastard is better than I am."
"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?" Yaga, the headmistress, sat down on the side and began to watch his former pupil closely. "First you admire someone and then you admit that someone is better? Are you really Satoru Gojo?"
To such sharp words, Satoru just grinned. It really didn't seem like him, but remembering everything that pyromaniac had done in the past month and a half, the strongest couldn't help but think that this bastard should have been hired as a teacher.
In just a month and a half, Sukehiro had completed a huge number of missions that were the equivalent of an ordinary sorcerer, while at the same time paying special attention to Maki's training almost every day. By the way, the girl had already gone through all five stages of accepting the inevitable: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance.
"Do you know why Panda and Toge decided to join Maki in what Sukehiro calls training?" Satoru asked the director.
"I suppose because she beat them during sparring," Yaga saw Sukehiro starting to beat his classmates again, remembering the very dissatisfied, beaten face of his son.
"That's just a consequence," the strongest shook his head. "The thing is, Sukehiro has a truly amazing talent as a sorcerer that neither you nor I have. And the essence of it lies in his nature, how he thinks, how he moves, what decisions he makes... For example, have you ever thought about optimizing Inumaki's Cursing Speech technique?"
"Of course not. Unlike you, I have a lot on my mind," the director replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
"And this guy thought about it and came up with the theory that instead of using destructive words like 'die,' 'explode,' or 'freeze,' it would be much more effective to use words like 'weaken,' 'slow down,' 'stumble,' or even 'speed up,'" Satoru's face broadened into a satisfied grin. "Who in their right mind would decide to reduce the power of their curse technique when fighting against a stronger opponent?"
"In that case, Curse Speech users must engage in melee combat, and they usually avoid it," Yaga parried, recalling historical records.
"It's a tactic that only works against peers or weaker opponents. But what if Toge fights a monster that can wipe the floor with him without even using any cursed energy?" Satoru asked in return, immediately answering his own question. "The right answer is to use a lot of weak words and try to defeat it with cursed weapons."
"That is certainly intriguing," Yaga replied after a short pause. "But from my perspective, it seems a bit contrived. Unconventional thinking has never made anyone talented."
"It is unlikely that only unconventional thinking allowed Sukehiro to reach the special-grade at the age of sixteen," Satoru chuckled as he watched his students being brutally beaten again. "And I doubt that something like that could ignite the potential of those around him."
"Maybe it's because you approach your duties too childishly?" the director remarked casually, scratching his beard.
"Think what you will," Satoru continued, shaking his head. "But you should at least see how this bastard exorcises curses."
"I'm too busy for that," the director replied calmly.
"The most important thing is not to get too old," Satoru said and spread his arms. "Anyway, why did such a busy person like you come today to watch the training of the first year students?"
"The Sorecer Council gave the green light for the transfer of Okkotsu Yuta," the director's voice became much more serious and he couldn't help but frown.
From his point of view, it was a logical step to allow him to study at the Sorcerers' School, as the Sorcerers' Society needed fresh blood more than ever. However, the risk was extremely high, even with Satoru Gojo nearby. A cursed dilemma: on the one hand, he was just a sixteen-year-old boy who did not choose such a fate and deserved more than to spend the rest of his life sealed away; on the other hand...
"This guy was unlucky; if it wasn't for the appearance of Sukehiro, he would have been free by now," Satoru interrupted the director's brainstorming.
It's really amazing how Satoru Gojo perceived this world. In his eyes, "unlucky" didn't mean a general horrible situation that completely destroyed the usual order of the boy's life, but rather referred to the appearance of an obstacle to the liberation of a new special-grade sorcerer.
"I'm surprised that the Council not only allowed you to release him, but also recognized him at the College," Yaga wrinkled her nose and imagined the conversation that took place between Satoru and the Council of Sorcerers.
"You are too weak and old to oppose me," Satoru shrugged with a mischievous smile and spread his arms.
"I was beginning to forget your shamelessness," Yaga sighed wearily, muttering.
"We're in the middle of a conversation. Don't flatter me," Satoru parried with his trademark irritating grin.
"Anyway, there are now five officially recognized special-grade sorcerers in Japan... And all of them are somehow connected to the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College," the director rubbed his nose, mentally preparing for difficult and restless days ahead. But wait! When were there quiet days in the presence of Satoru Gojo?
"You should be proud of this, everything you have achieved as a director will go down in history," Satoru stood up and patted the former teacher on the shoulder. "The legendary director of the legendary generation of the Tokyo Curse Technical College."
"There's not a drop of admiration in your words," Yaga grumbled in response.
"Not true. I respect and admire my teacher very much," Satoru said as a parting shot and descended the stairs.
"... Everything I've achieved as a director?" Yaga muttered and looked at Panda.
The faces of his former students flashed through his mind: Satoru, Geto and Seko. Unconsciously, this stern man with the unusual hobby of making dolls had single-handedly raised the most powerful sorcerers of his time. He never acknowledged his role in their development, claiming that these children were strong to begin with and that he had no special contribution to make to their training. His students thought otherwise.
Looking at the magical school building, Yaga sighed deeply.
"Wait, stop, do you not consider me a sorcerer?" the headmaster shouted angrily, noticing the hidden subtext in the strongest's words.
In response, Satoru only quickened his pace towards his students.