"So this is the student you barely mention?" Iori Utahime said, catching on to Gojo Satoru's knack for mystery. He'd brought in this kid quietly, like a pebble in the ocean—no ripples.
Now? A tidal wave crashing against stone.
"My student's adorable, huh? Not all grumpy like you, Utahime~" Gojo teased, smirking, eyes glued to the live feed.
"Adorable my ass! He's wrecking the match! Group battle, group battle—now it's a solo show!" Iori Utahime nearly rolled her eyes. What kind of student was this, rewriting rules on a whim?
And weirder—no one was objecting.
Inside the field.
Hayashi stood like a war god, unshaken. Silence hung heavy—everyone watched as spectators.
Noritoshi Kamo, a young star of the Kamo clan, had serious jujutsu talent.
Hayashi, a first-year, was a strength enigma. Everyone wanted to see how many cards he still held.
That defense? Close combat was the only shot.
Realizing this, Noritoshi ditched his gear. Barehanded, he lunged at Hayashi.
Feet like wind, crushing leaves underfoot, he closed the gap fast. A palm slammed into Hayashi's armored chest.
Crack!
Cursed energy and raw force erupted. The blow landed square—Noritoshi's strength was no joke. Bare flesh against him? Hayashi wouldn't come out on top.
Unless he used Azure Black Flash.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Noritoshi snapped one eye open. Blood veined out, spiderwebbing around it—boosting everything. Fists flew, hammering Hayashi's chest, head, gut, legs in a brutal flurry.
Each hit rang out like a mallet on a bell, echoing to the onlookers.
"The Kamo clan's Blood Manipulation—more than shaping and trajectories. Body temp, pulse, red cell count—all bendable," Hayashi mused.
"Crimson Scale Surge?"
He wasn't clueless. He'd heard of the Kamo's Blood Manipulation—just never seen it up close.
"Know your stuff, huh? But that's where it ends. Blood Manipulation's not that basic," Noritoshi said, glaring through feral eyes. "That fancy technique of yours—bet it guzzles cursed energy. The second you're dry, game over."
Hayashi chuckled, dodging the question. Let him assume the worst.
Noritoshi wasn't just flexing for Tokyo School—he wanted the cameras, the teachers, to see his worth.
A chuckle mocking him? Mood soured. Under Crimson Scale Surge's boost, he went berserk.
Swish, swish, swish!
Fists and palms rained down on Hayashi's cursed energy armor.
The armor soaked some of Noritoshi's cursed energy. The hits? Just a dull ache—pain Hayashi shrugged off long ago.
"No counter?" Noritoshi said, mildly shocked. He'd been at it forever, and Hayashi hadn't budged. Showing off how tough that defense was?
To others, it looked one-sided—Hayashi defenseless. But they knew better. He could fight back—he just didn't want to.
"Worried if I hit back, you're done," Hayashi said. Silent 'til now, his words lit Noritoshi's fuse. Underestimating him?
"Blood Manipulation—Crimson Bind!"
Noritoshi pulled a blood pack from his clothes, hurling it. It burst midair, a flood of red coiling into rings, locking Hayashi head to toe.
"Blood Manipulation—Reaping Purge!"
Another pack—shattered. The blood spun into a whirling ring, accelerating, then slashing at Hayashi.
Whoosh!
Thump!
Reaping Purge hit the bound Hayashi, kicking up steam from the heat. A two-centimeter black scar marred the armor.
"No breakthrough?" Noritoshi's shock turned to disbelief. Bound and hit with Reaping Purge—just a mark, no real damage.
"What kind of freak is this guy?" Noritoshi got it now. Like Mai said—this first-year was dangerous.
Before fighting, he couldn't feel it. Now? Crystal clear.
This kid was strong as hell.
Tokyo and Kyoto alike stared, riveted. That defense—normal?
Noritoshi, a third-year, had experience and skill no first-year could match—top-tier talent and lineage.
Yet two rounds of attacks left Hayashi unscathed. Everyone saw it.
Nobara: "This is Hayashi's real strength?"
Fushiguro: "The special-grade at the detention center—you forgot? Months later, he's not standing still."
Yuji: "Hayashi's so cool—so strong!"
Panda: "That armor's thicker than my hide."
Toge: "Tuna, tuna."
Maki: "Too fun."
Mai: "So boring."
Miwa: "Guess I'm still the weakest~~"
Nishimiya: "This first-year's scarier than that orange-head~~~"
Todo: "Heh, this is nothing."
Mechamaru: "Can't analyze that armor's data—what's its cursed energy structure?"
Amid the chatter, Hayashi decided playtime was over. He locked eyes with Noritoshi. "If this is all you've got, sorry—you're no match."
"Shut it!"
Noritoshi snapped, pulling two more blood packs. They burst midair.
Red fused into a mass, shrinking under his cursed energy—condensing to a pinpoint.
"Convergence—Piercing Blood!"
The blood erupted, a razor-thin line aimed at Hayashi's gut, rocketing forward.
A piercing whistle cut the air. Everyone tensed—Noritoshi wasn't messing around. That concentrated blood could punch through a body, shredding guts, bones, organs.
Even a gut shot would drop you—combat over. Quick rescue might save a life, but this was too far.