Gazing around the ruins, the boy's silhouette stood tall in the distance.
Zenin Naoya had never felt so stirred in his heart. He wanted to take back every cautious thing he had ever said about his adopted son. This was a feat that no one in the Zenin family had ever accomplished.
And yet, it had happened right before his eyes.
Thinking about it, Zenin Shibi felt a deep sense of emotion.
To be born in this era—an era that held the future of the Zenin family—what a blessing!
Later on, he successfully subdued Mokurō and possessed another powerful shikigami.
Needless to say—
He had become the strongest in the world of curses!
This was the true strength you could buy with just 10 billion!
Zenin Naomi felt like she had struck gold!
Just imagining the regretful expressions on those old bastards from the Gojo family after learning of Mirai's power made the whole Zenin temple burst into cheerful laughter.
"Haha! Speaking of which, isn't that damn exchange event coming up in a few days?"
"Let's go!"
"I'm outta here!"
"Time to raise some hell!"
"Hahahahahahaha!!"
Even though no official order was given to keep the news of Mirai's shikigami conquest under wraps, Zenin Naomi ordered the entire Zenin household to stay silent and not spread the word.
With a flick of his sleeve, Zenin Shibi seemed ten years younger. Full of vigor, he walked with the power of a dragon and tiger, leaving not even a speck of dust behind.
Tokyo.
A newspaper lay nearby.
Under the shade of a patio umbrella at an outdoor café.
A man with stitches across his forehead sipped tea and browsed global headlines, relishing life.
Suddenly, he lowered his steaming coffee.
A slight stiffness appeared on his face.
He turned his head and looked toward a direction that, to a sorcerer, glowed as bright as daylight even in the dead of night.
That was the home of the Zenin clan. That was the future.
"Oh?"
"This commotion is massive. It's affected the entire magic world."
"Looks like... another powerful sorcerer has been born."
The mysterious man muttered to himself.
Then chuckled coldly.
"Ah, the so-called geniuses of the jujutsu world—countless 'strong ones' are born, yet in the end, none can escape the force of time. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes."
"Still, the plan is urgent. Let's hope it won't be as troublesome as that 'Six Eyes' guy."
"To be safe... I should check it out myself."
As his words faded, the crowded street bustled with life.
But the man with the stitched forehead vanished from his seat in an instant.
"Sir, your change... huh?"
A waitress in a blue-and-white striped black skirt looked at the steaming coffee and tilted her head, a black question mark practically floating above her.
The Zenin Estate.
Inside an opulent, grand, gold-trimmed bathroom, Mihoko Takayanagi was washing Mirai's hair.
Scrub, scrub, scrub!
"Really now~"
"How is a dirty young master like you supposed to eat at the table like this~?"
"If you don't develop good hygiene habits early on, no girl will like you when you grow up~"
"Hmph! I don't want to be liked by those powdered-up monkey girls who are smaller than a dust mite!" Mirai lifted his proud little head, eyes full of disdain.
"They're not even worth a single strand of Aunt Mihoko's hair."
Mihoko Takayanagi's life motto was "Stay Forever Young," so Mirai's comment wasn't even exaggerated.
"Future master, really now~"
Mihoko was already used to Mirai's shrewd and often startling remarks, but this time she didn't argue.
A faint smile appeared on her face as she gently raised her fair hand, stroking Mirai's temple like cradling the world's most precious gem.
Hehe~
To stay young forever…
She wished she didn't have to pretend.
I was born before you~
You'll grow old, but I already...
Two and a half days later, early morning.
At the main gate of the Zenin Temple.
A sleek, extended luxury black limousine stood in front.
Cradled in Mihoko Takayanagi's arms, Mirai rubbed his sleepy eyes impatiently.
"What kind of exchange event makes us get up this early? I'm not going!"
Hearing that, Mihoko, who always put Mirai first, turned as if to head back to bed.
"Wait! Wait!"
Zenin Naomi rushed over to stop them and said:
"This is the annual gathering of the Big Three clans. Many young sorcerers from these families—and even some elite talents from outside them—will be there to exchange magical knowledge."
"It's a great opportunity to grow, broaden horizons, and recruit allies!"
Yawning, the shadowy outlines of Mokuro and Kidoro flickered faintly beside Mirai.
Then he snapped:
"Hey~ Want to repeat what you just said?"
"Do I look like someone who needs an 'exchange'? Cut the nonsense and get to the point!"
Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Zenin Naoya stiffly asked, "Is that Six Eyes brat Gojo Satoru attending too?"
"Boring~ He gets to go, and I don't?"
"Aunt Mihoko, let's go back to bed = ="
"Mmm~"
Panicking again!
He quickly jumped in their way.
Zenin Naoya stretched out his legs and widened his eyes as he suddenly said, "Prodigy Yukino will be there too!"
"Oh?!"
Mirai perked up instantly.
Yukino had always been frail and tended to get sick in winter—her health kept deteriorating.
Normally, he wouldn't bother with anything that made him the center of attention.
But based on Mihoko Takayanagi's scoring system—twenty fingers was a perfect score.
To reach that, Yukino would need at least eighteen fingers.
She lost two—not because of her looks.
Honestly, when it came to beauty, she was even more delicate and flawless than Mihoko. She looked more like a divine doll than a real person.
Even so...
Eighteen fingers was still an extremely high score.
Understand this:
In Mirai's perception, even among every female character in the original anime with a name, only Mihoko Takayanagi and Yukino Toyuha scored more than fifteen fingers.
The rest, even those with double-digit scores, were just—
Twelve fingers. That's it.
Mai Zenin? Twelve fingers.
Utahime? Twelve fingers.
Nobara Kugisaki? Twelve fingers.
Yuki Tsukumo? Thirteen fingers.
By the end, some had made it to fourteen.
The Engineering Sorcerer School? Fifteen fingers.
Kirara Hoshi? Fifteen.
Nagi Yoshino? Fifteen.
Twelve fingers meant you passed.
Fifteen? Excellent.
Eighteen? Elite.
Twenty fingers? Supreme victory.