That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

”Here you go, sir.”

”Hmm...”

There was no word of thanks, as if being served was the absolute natural order of the world. Suzuki didn’t mind. The imposing man sitting across from him at the low table was Hiashi Hyuga—the patriarch of the Hyuga Clan and the father of Hinata. He was one of the most politically and physically powerful men in Konoha.

After pouring the tea, Suzuki sat down across from him and remained perfectly silent. He waited for his guest to speak first, fully aware of the corporate negotiation tactic: the one who breaks the silence first is usually at a disadvantage.

The two maintained a heavy, suffocating silence for several long minutes until Hiashi finally spoke.

”You are incredibly bold, Tanaka-kun.”

”I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”

”You know exactly what I mean.”

”No, I really don’t.”

”How long are you going to sit there and pretend?” Hiashi’s pale eyes narrowed dangerously.

”I am not hiding or pretending anything, sir.”

Suzuki’s voice was completely calm. He wasn’t sweating, and his heart rate hadn’t spiked. Hiashi was actively trying to intimidate him, but frankly, Suzuki didn’t fear the man at all. Compared to the suffocating paranoia of Danzo or the inevitable, world-ending threats looming in the future, an overprotective father was almost cute. Furthermore, despite possessing a legendary dojutsu, the Hyuga clan’s political influence was limited.

Suzuki’s mind was already running through half a dozen ways to neutralize Hiashi if things turned violent—including the fact that he had technically poured the tea. But he knew he wouldn’t need to do anything. This strict, traditional clan head wasn’t actually going to assassinate a twelve-year-old civilian in his own home.

Probably.

BAAAAM!

Hiashi suddenly slammed his hand down onto the table, fracturing the wood. He glared at Suzuki, his face contorted in absolute rage. ”How can you sit there and say that to me with a straight face, after you have so casually toyed with my daughter’s heart?!”

”...”

Suzuki blinked. ”...Are you seriously saying that to me right now?”

”What exactly do you mean by that reply?!”

”I mean, look at me.” Suzuki gestured helplessly to himself and his modest living room. ”I am just an orphaned civilian boy. I don’t have a special bloodline. I don’t have a clan. As I have always maintained, I know my place. I keep a respectful distance, and I only guide her as an older brother figure. That is all I have ever done.”

Suzuki looked the raging patriarch dead in the eye. ”Do you think my acting properly according to my social status is wrong?”

”OF COURSE IT IS WRONG!”

Hiashi’s rigid composure completely shattered. He looked like he was on the verge of a volcanic explosion.

”IF YOU CALL YOURSELF A MAN, YOU SHOULD BE ON YOUR KNEES ASKING FOR MY PERMISSION TO COURT HER! AND WHEN I INEVITABLY DENY YOU THAT PERMISSION, YOU SHOULD STRIVE TO BECOME STRONG ENOUGH TO SHATTER THAT DENIAL AND MATCH HER STATUS! YOU COWARDLY BASTARD!”

”...”

Suzuki just stared at him. Is this guy for real?

”But I genuinely don’t harbor romantic feelings for her,” Suzuki stated flatly, telling the absolute truth.

Yes, Hinata was sweet and possessed a great deal of potential, but she was a literal child. How could he, a reincarnated adult, possibly entertain romantic feelings for a twelve-year-old? The only affection he had for her was entirely familial.

”YOU LIAR!”

”...”

Hiashi couldn’t hold it in anymore. How could he possibly trust the words of this calculating little weasel?!

If Suzuki truly had no feelings for Hinata, why had he spent years meticulously taking care of her? Why had he quietly built up her confidence? Because of Suzuki’s subtle interventions, Hinata was no longer the stuttering, cowardly failure of the Hyuga. She had begun training seriously, finally showing the resolve suitable for the clan heiress. Hiashi was profoundly happy about her growth—in fact, he was overjoyed!

Yet, Hiashi was also a realist. He knew that any relationship between the heiress of the Hyuga and a civilian orphan was doomed to end in political tragedy. Even if Suzuki’s parents had been Jonin, it would be difficult. But they had merely been Chunin—the middle-management of the ninja hierarchy!

How could a boy like that ever officially match Hinata?

Hiashi had originally come here tonight to brutally break the boy’s heart for the good of his daughter’s future. Yet, to his absolute fury, he realized that Suzuki’s heart was entirely made of ice! Suzuki had already calculated the political impossibility of their union and had preemptively friend-zoned the heiress!

For some deeply irrational, fatherly reason, the fact that Suzuki had rejected her first made Hiashi unspeakably furious!

”DON’T YOU THINK MY DAUGHTER IS CHARMING?!” Hiashi roared.

”...” Suzuki rubbed his temples. ”...She is very cute, but—”

”RIGHT?! THEN DON’T YOU DARE GIVE UP ON HER!”

”.....”

What the hell does this old man actually want from me?! Suzuki screamed internally.

”Tomorrow...” Hiashi took a deep, shuddering breath, violently reigning in his chaotic emotions. He straightened his robes, returning to his cold, aristocratic persona. ”No. Tonight. I will visit Hokage-sama and personally request that you be placed on the exact same genin team as my daughter.”

Hiashi glared down at the boy. ”Don’t you dare run away, boy. Face your emotions. Fight. Prove to me that you can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her on the battlefield, just like you clawed your way out of poverty to become the top of your class!”

Before Suzuki could even open his mouth to protest, Hiashi snatched his teacup, chugged the lukewarm green tea in a single, aggressive gulp, and stormed out of the house with a heavy huff.

”....”

There were so many colorful words Suzuki wanted to say, but he swallowed them down.

Left alone in the quiet room, his pragmatic facade finally slipped. Was there genuinely a possibility for a normal civilian ninja—devoid of any unique genetic mutations or reincarnated alien chakra—to grow as strong as the literal demigods of this world?

Suzuki sat down slowly, letting out a long sigh. ”Do you think it’s possible, Manager?”

He paused, his eyes hardening.

”No. Don’t answer that. You are my tool. I am the one who calculates the odds.”

Yes, whether it was possible or not, his fate would be determined by his own hands. He might only possess basic C-Rank jutsu that clan elites openly disdained, but he would show them. Using the absolute peak of human creativity, tactical planning, and the Manager’s processing power, he would rise from the dirt and stand above those chosen by destiny.

He was small now, but that would change.

Still, before he drafted his training schedule for tomorrow, he felt a strange ping in his consciousness. It was a synchronization request. He decided to accept the download, pulling the recent memories and data from another version of himself currently navigating a completely different universe.

Ah. It’s the modern world this time, Suzuki realized.

But it wasn’t a normal modern world. It was a reality absolutely drenched in supernatural curses and horrific phenomena.

Yet, unlike the typical meat-headed sorcerers of that universe who trained by punching things and relying on raw ”guts,” this version of Suzuki was currently sitting quietly in a massive library. To be exact, he was seated in the library of Kyoto University’s Department of Physics.

His desk was covered in advanced textbooks focusing heavily on Classical Mechanics, Kinematics, and the physics of velocity.

Why was he painstakingly studying college-level physics in a world governed by magic?

Because of his cursed technique.

”Suzuki-niisan.”

Suzuki looked up from his dense physics textbook, blinking his eyes as he broke his synchronization with the Manager. Standing beside his desk was a young, beautiful woman with dark green, chin-length hair and a sharp, cynical gaze.

”Mai?”

”Are you almost done in here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

”Give me a moment. I just need to finish this calculation.”

Yup. As the multiversal data had confirmed, he had reincarnated into the brutal, unforgiving world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

His identity? He was the son of Naobito Zenin, the current head of the elite Zenin Clan. He was also the younger brother of the infamously cruel, sadistic heir apparent, Naoya Zenin.

Suzuki Zenin.

That was his name in this vicious society—a world where the lives of those without overwhelming supernatural power were treated as cheaper than dirt.