Jujutsu Kaisen: I Have A Gardevoir

The three raised fingers curled again, and Akira's right foot stomped hard.

With a loud boom, the dark blue cursed energy swelled instantly, surging downward with the force of his right foot directly through the ground. It blasted into the underground.

In that instant, it felt as though the earth itself was shaking. The milk and bread Akira had placed aside rippled, forming rings of waves.

Before the ripples could spread, there was another bang. The butler who had blocked the way stumbled backward uncontrollably, taking over ten steps before finally managing to stop.

The healthy red color of his complexion had turned pale, blood mixed with saliva continuously dripping from his mouth.

Akira withdrew his left foot, which had stepped out, along with his extended right fist, his eyes habitually narrowing. "Old man, sometimes listening to the young isn't a bad thing either."

If those from Tokyo Jujutsu High found out that someone dared to stop Akira bare-handed and even let him attack first, they'd die laughing.

Did you think you were Gojo Satoru with a permanent Sacred Shield?

Akira's greatest strength lay in his explosive power. The Super Rookie physique paired with enhanced cursed energy meant that a fully charged strike would be tough even for someone like Maki Zen'in, who had all her skill points in physical strength. Let alone someone whose physique wasn't even on her level.

However, as the most trusted aide of the Kamo matriarch, the butler naturally wasn't just anyone.

Even after taking such a heavy blow, he quickly adjusted his breathing and steadied his stance.

Although there was surprise on his face, there was no panic.

"Young master thinks you have already won?"

"No need to think. It's a fact."

Though the cursed energy had receded, Akira's aura only grew stronger, like the midday sun.

The butler, though pale, showed no fear.

"Young master, don't you feel anything strange in your body?"

"I know what you're waiting for. If I recall, the one who first introduced me to Jujutsu was you."

The larger the clan, the less likely parents were to personally care for their children. Instead, servants often bore the responsibilities of care and enlightenment.

As the only legitimate son born to the official wife, until it was confirmed that he hadn't inherited any Jujutsu, all resources of both families had been poured into Akira.

They would use a Grade 1 Sorcerer if available. If not, they'd settle for Semi-Grade 1. If you were Grade 2, you weren't qualified to be Master Akira's teacher.

This butler was one of those—an official Grade 1 Sorcerer, and the most crucial pillar of support from Akira's maternal family.

He had come with the lady to the Kamo family just to stand by her side.

Only such a person was qualified to serve as Akira's mentor.

"Perhaps even you don't remember. You told me that your Cursed Technique is poison. Unfortunately, I'm not particularly afraid of poison."

As Akira spoke, he stomped his right foot again, and in a flash, he was in front of the butler. His speed was so quick that even a Grade 1 Sorcerer found it hard to keep up.

But this time, Akira didn't punch. He simply placed his hand on the butler's shoulder.

"For the sake of old times, I'm going easy on you. Don't underestimate your juniors, old man."

The butler's eyes flickered. From the beginning, he hadn't dispelled his technique, and his body had long been coated with toxins. Even the air around him carried poisonous elements.

With prolonged contact like this, even a Grade 1 Sorcerer should've been incapacitated. Yet, Akira remained completely unaffected.

"How is young master doing this?"

While he spoke, the toxic Cursed Technique had already been activated. Regardless of whether Akira was lying or not, before falling, he intended to make sure he took down his target.

Facing an opponent who perfectly countered his abilities was like a Dragon-type facing an Azumarill. No matter how capable you were, you'd have to admit defeat.

"Maybe there's a bit of Pokémon DNA mixed into my body. My resistance to things like this is quite high. Of course, if you keep this up, I might collapse."

Akira gave a slight smile, telling the truth.

This wasn't just a Super Rookie trait; it was a commonality among Trainers.

Akira hadn't tested if he could withstand a Thunderbolt physically, but he knew that Trainers were generally able to endure attacks from Pokémon.

When Brock caught Croagunk, he got Poison Jabbed in the kidney multiple times, and he just got a bit numb—quickly recovering afterward.

But higher resistance didn't mean total immunity. If the move was powerful enough, even a Super Rookie wouldn't be able to withstand it, like when facing Mewtwo… Mewtwo… Mewtwo.

Unfortunately, this hard truth wasn't something people readily believed.

"Young master, please don't make such jokes," the old butler said, his face darkening.

In a traditional family, reputation was everything. If Akira wasn't the son of the lord and lady, that would be a crime beyond redemption.

Akira didn't seem to care. "A reasonable hypothesis—who says that having children must be a matter between humans? Hasn't there already been such a case in the Kamo family, over a hundred years ago—"

"Akira!!!"

The noblewoman lost her usual demeanor, her voice sharp as she interrupted Akira. That was the biggest scandal in Kamo family history.

"Call me Akira, thank you. Also, just because something isn't mentioned doesn't mean it doesn't exist—you people taught me that."

Using their own words against them was the most effective way to leave someone speechless.

It didn't matter if they were the matriarch or an old, seasoned Grade 1 Sorcerer.

Having clearly gained the upper hand, Akira no longer felt the need to continue the exchange. "Two pieces of advice for you. I hope you haven't foolishly sent people to Tokyo; otherwise, they'll be leaving vertically but coming back horizontally. Don't misunderstand—this is a society ruled by law. I wouldn't casually kill someone, but I will ensure they're forever tormented by nightmares, unending and relentless."

"The Q Organization's Cursed Sorcerers—?" The butler's eyes glowed with understanding. Bayer and Ququan were eventually handed over to Kyoto. In order to lift the "curses" on the two, the Jujutsu Alliance had hired many, including this poison specialist.

Akira chuckled softly.

The matriarch's voice turned sharp, that being her sorest subject.

"Are you truly willing to go this far for that woman—"

"Watch your words. That's my mother." Akira relished twisting the knife deeper. "Second point—does the head of the family know about what you're doing? Though it's been a long time since we last met, I personally think he's a lot more deliberate and clever than you. If he knows you're acting behind his back, doing unnecessary things—or perhaps he's already predicted that you would, and is watching you right now."

The matriarch's face instantly darkened. If there was anyone who could suppress her, it was the family head.

Akira raised his head at a forty-five-degree angle, looking up at the sky.

For a brief moment, he really felt a vague gaze, silently watching him. It was like he was back in that ancient mansion.

That stern, silent man, always with his hands behind his back, wordlessly observing everything.

The boy who had once been a child shrugged, turning his back to that gaze and striding forward resolutely.

Somewhere unknown, the middle-aged man closed his eyes and sighed quietly.

No one knew his true thoughts, his silence as heavy as a mountain.