[SWISH] — [SWISH] — [THUD!]
Satoru's foot slammed into the grassy field, his fist clenched at his hip. He pivoted just in time, narrowly dodging a dark-gloved fist that carved through the air beside his cheek.
"Urk—!?"
This guy..!
Reinhard surged forward, his leg slicing through the wind in a wide, diagonal arc—its speed bordering the absurd. [SWOOSH!] In response, Satoru vaulted upward, his body coiling midair like a spring. With a twist, he brought his leg crashing down toward Reinhard's shoulder.
But—
A hand snapped up, stopping the strike cold as if through instinct.
Fingers clamped around Satoru's shin. Then, with effortless strength, Reinhard hurled him through the air at neck-breaking speed.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm the one with Infinity or if he is... I can't even touch him!
Satoru twisted mid-flight, slamming both feet into the ground. Earth exploded beneath him as he skidded back, carving two ragged trails through the mud and turf.
[STEP] — The Sword Saint moved.
—The space between them vanished in an instant.
"!!"
Satoru's eyes widened. A shadow overtook his face—Reinhard's fist, already inches from landing.
It stopped.
A fraction from contact, the fist trembled against an unseen force—Infinity manifesting like an invisible wall that saved him from embarrassment.
After a long breath, Satoru exhaled.
"..That's my loss yet again."
Reinhard straightened, adopting a relaxed stance, his smile easy.
"You're incredibly skilled, Satoru. I'm sure I'd be at a loss if not for my Divine Protection of Initiative, and the Divine Protection of First Attack Immunity, and Second Attack Immunity, and also Precognition, and—"
Yeah, yeah... I get it. It's BLINDING, dude.. literally—
"—And also the—"
Satoru stepped forward, cutting him off.
"I know, Reinhard. You tell me after every spar. You don't have to sugarcoat it." He glanced to the side.
"Honestly... I've been needing to fight someone again like this for a while anyway."
What I'm not saying is—being overpowered like this? It's exhilarating.
This has never happened before. Not with Suguru. Not with anyone.
It's amazing, thrilling!
"Satoru?" Reinhard raised an eyebrow, snapping Satoru out of his thoughts.
"Ah— ahem, yeah. Let's call it here." He dusted himself off, trying to sound casual. "I've still got to catch up on this world's history and all that, so... later."
Ugh. Nothing kills the post-battle thrill like diving into some dusty books... but hey, duty calls.
Satoru sat with one leg casually crossed over the other, a thick book resting in his hand. Around him, towering shelves stretched endlessly in every direction—rows upon rows of ancient tomes and manuscripts rising like the ribs of some vast, forgotten beast. The library loomed above, cavernous and quiet, its sheer scale swallowing even the sound of turning pages despite the fact it was deathly silent.
"Hmm..." Satoru hummed, clicking his tongue. His index finger tapped rhythmically against the open page as he mulled over its contents.
I've probably crammed enough knowledge to pass for a functioning local in this world… which means—
It's time to hunt.
For what, exactly?
For recruits. For the 'Gojo Camp'!
He closed the book with a soft thud, placing it neatly on the desk before rising to his feet. Without hesitation, he strode out of the library, his footsteps echoing through the cavernous silence.
The hallways he passed through were ornate—gilded trim, marble floors, tapestries and chandeliers—a palace masquerading as a home. Nobles, attendants, and knights nodded respectfully as he walked by, each greeting him with silent reverence.
They shouldn't know I've been chosen for the Royal Selection yet...
Then again, this feels like Reinhard's doing. He probably just told them to treat me like they would him. Typical.
He tapped the stem of his sunglasses, adjusting them with a tilt before his gaze sharpened—focus snapping back into place.
"I'm not looking for quantity…" he muttered to himself. "Even one person is enough—so long as they're the best of the best."
The one I'm most curious about is probably with that "Emilia" girl's camp… Subaru, was it?
The way he was acting around her before—it's obvious where his loyalties lie. My chances of pulling him over? Pretty much zero I'd imagine.
A shame, really... I wanted to see that bundle of Cursed Energy he's carrying actually put to use.
Still gonna teach him though.
He smirked to himself at the thought, hands slipping into his pockets as he continued down the hall.
Before long, he stepped into his personal quarters within the Astrea Estate—spacious, easily one of the largest rooms in the entire manor. The moment he crossed the threshold, it felt like the room itself shimmered in response, sunlight dancing across polished floors and ornate furnishings.
"I've walked in here a dozen times already," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at his lips, "and it's still impressive... Never saw anything this grand, not even in the Gojo Clan."
He dropped into the desk chair with a satisfied sigh, kicking his feet up onto the polished surface like he owned the place—which, at this point, might not be far from the truth.
Now for the hard part—finding recruits.
Besides the folks already here, and maybe a few I can count on one hand, I don't know anyone who's impressive enough to make the cut.
His head tilted lazily from side to side, knuckle pressed to his chin as he let out a thoughtful hum.
.. Mmm.. scratch that, I actually do..
That orange-haired thief girl from before—she might actually be a fit for the Gojo Camp. I didn't get to see her fight, but the Six Eyes don't lie.. she's got a Divin e Protection. And that alone puts her in rare company. Other than Reinhard—who for some reason is hoarding hundreds of the damn things—I haven't seen anyone else with even one.
"My intellect honestly scares even me sometimes..." he smirked. "Now then—unless she got herself thrown in a cell for stealing again, which I can just ask Reinhard about—she should still be in the slums."
Satoru nodded to himself, pushing up from the chair with a stretch before drifting toward the tall glass window. Outside, the sun hovered just above the horizon, casting long golden rays across the sprawling landscape—a picture of calm before whatever storm tomorrow could possibly bring.
"I'll head there tomorrow," he murmured, watching the light fade. "Reinhard'll probably tag along anyway… whether I ask him to or not."
His smirk faded slightly as a thought crossed his mind.
Elsa Granhiert... right. She strikes me as the type to hold a grudge.
And getting your ass handed to you? Yeah, that's usually grounds for one.
Still, he doubted she'd return any time soon—especially not alone. Not after what he did to her.
He clicked his tongue softly.
"Guess I should keep my guard up, just in case," he muttered. His eyes narrowed, gaze sharp again. "But without any weird curse techniques in this world..."
"I'm untouchable."
Several moments of silence passed before a knock echoed through the room. The presence behind the door was unmistakably familiar.
"Reinhard? Come in."
The door opened with a quiet click, and the crimson-haired Sword Saint stepped inside, offering Satoru a respectful nod.
"So, what brings you here?"
Reinhard tilted his head slightly, pausing before speaking.
"I thought it might be… convenient."
Satoru raised an eyebrow. "That one of your weird powers again?" he joked, smirking—though the silence that followed gave him pause.
"Seriously?—"
Satoru shook his head, cutting himself off. "..More importantly… do you know where 'Emilia' and 'Subaru' are staying?"
The Sword Saint hummed thoughtfully. "Lady Emilia and Subaru should be at the 'Roswaal Estate', up north."
"Mmm… could you arrange a carriage there? And let them know I'm coming. That'd probably be best."
Reinhard tilted his head again, as if on the verge of asking something—but instead simply nodded.
"Very well, Satoru."
"I'll be going alone, by the way. Won't be gone too long—just a few days at most."
That made Reinhard hesitate, visibly displeased.
"C'mon, Reinhard," Satoru said, leaning back with a relaxed grin. "You of all people know how tough I am. How many can you name that could actually beat me in a fight, huh?"
Besides you.
Reinhard said nothing at first, but finally gave a slow nod.
"It shall be done. When do you plan to leave?"
A smirk curled back onto Satoru's face as he rested his chin on his knuckles.
"As soon as possible."
Inside the carriage, en route to the Roswaal Estate...
Yeah. I changed my mind, what you gonna do about it?
That whole "recruitment mission" can wait just a bit longer.
"Instead... I'm more interested in that Subaru guy—the one from my world."
It still felt strange. Two people from Japan, isekai'd into the same fantasy world? He didn't know when Subaru had arrived, or how, but the coincidence was too big to ignore.
"Regardless… that bundle of Cursed Energy he's sitting on is just rotting."
He narrowed his eyes, determination flashing in them. "And I—Satoru Gojo, humble as ever—refuse to let that kind of potential go to waste!"
With a smirk, he crossed one leg over the other and rested his chin on his knuckles.
"So, I'll be teaching him. No magic. None of that mana nonsense. Just the real stuff."
His tone dipped slightly, more thoughtful.
"He doesn't have a Cursed Technique. If he did, it'd be second nature by now—like breathing. I would've seen it the moment I arrived..."
He paused.
"... These eyes don't lie after all."
Satoru shrugged, leaning back with a beady grin before bursting into a low, almost villainous laugh.
Outside the cabin, the carriage driver stiffened, gripping the reins a little tighter—eyes wide as the sound of muffled laughter echoed behind him.