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

Just kidding.

Suzuki had absolutely no intention of blitzing the Zenin estate today, beating everyone to a pulp, and violently declaring himself the new Clan Head. He wasn’t an idiot. Even with the Manager helping him conceptualize his new physics-based techniques, he still needed time to master the physical execution. Furthermore, his pragmatic mind knew his raw combat experience still couldn’t match the hardened, battle-crazed veterans of the Jujutsu world—yet.

He had killed curses and criminal sorcerers before. It was a grim, brutal reality for someone reincarnated from a peaceful modern world, but the fate of the weak in Jujutsu society was simply too pitiful to ignore. Mastering the baseline of Projection Sorcery already placed him in the upper echelons of Grade 1 sorcerers. Among the commoners and background extras of this universe, he was a lethal elite.

But speed was useless against the true anomalies waiting in the wings of the original plot. Running away wasn’t an option either; Kenjaku’s web was already spun, and everyone—young or old, strong or weak—was already caught in it.

So, what else could he do except fight back?

”What’s wrong? I thought you said you were going to treat me!”

Mai’s voice snapped him out of his dark thoughts. Seeing his serious expression fade, she let out a quiet sigh of relief and quickly clung to his arm, leaning into him like a spoiled, affectionate child.

”....”

Suzuki remained completely stoic. He didn’t blush or feel a spike in his heart rate at the softness of her body pressing against him. Instead, he felt a sudden, terrifying chill—directed entirely at his bank account.

Taking Mai out for a ”feast” didn’t mean dropping ¥3,000 at a local ramen shop. It meant hemorrhaging anywhere from ¥100,000 to ¥500,000 in a single afternoon.

Financially, Suzuki was more than fine. He had hoarded his hazard pay from his active missions and heavily diversified his portfolio. He held stable assets: J-REITs (Real Estate Investment Trusts), high-dividend defensive stocks, tax-free NISA accounts, and Japanese Government Bonds. He had even capitalized on the cryptocurrency boom, though he smartly hid those massive, volatile yields inside a dummy shell corporation so the Zenin elders couldn’t confiscate them.

He was a total financial outlier in the Jujutsu world. Most sorcerers lived recklessly paycheck to paycheck, relying entirely on government bounties. It was a terrible retirement plan, considering their bodies broke down with age—if they even lived long enough to retire.

Honestly, Suzuki was heavily considering taking a cushy, tenured lecturer position at Kyoto University after finishing his PhD. The academic salary was mediocre, but the dedicated research budget, social prestige, and incredibly safe environment were priceless.

”...Give me a second. I need to transfer my rent payment first,” Suzuki muttered, pulling out his phone.

While Naobito happily paid his university tuition, Suzuki paid his own living expenses. Why didn’t he just buy a house? Did anyone realize how absurdly inflated the Kyoto real estate market was?! Dropping all his liquid cash on a house was financial suicide, and taking on a 30-year mortgage with rising interest rates sounded like a curse worse than anything born from negative human emotion.

”Stingy!” Mai stuck out her tongue, pretending to be deeply offended.

”I am not stingy,” Suzuki sighed, pushing up his glasses. ”Who exactly paid for your Clé de Peau Beauté skincare routine? Those Maison Margiela sneakers? The Cartier watch? Or that ’accidental’ luxury weekend trip to Hokkaido?”

The Zenin clan was ”old money,” but their revenue streams were archaic—land holdings, selling cursed tools, and political bribes. With the massive overhead of maintaining their private army of sorcerers and battling modern inflation, the clan was actually bleeding capital. Some of the elder bastards had even demanded Naobito cut off Suzuki’s tuition funds to save money. Suzuki had responded by systematically beating those elders into a bloody pulp until they agreed that higher education was a ”worthy pursuit.”

Truthfully, he didn’t mind spoiling Mai. He made his money specifically so the people he cared about could be happy.

”Being stingy is a bad look, you know,” Mai teased, purposefully making her voice sound spoiled and overly sweet. ”You’re never going to be popular with girls acting like that!”

”...”

Suzuki slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked straight ahead. ”You’re right. I should probably get a girlfriend soon.”

”HOW DARE YOU!” Mai instantly roared, her cute facade evaporating into pure, aggressive jealousy.

”What? If I stay single forever, who am I going to marry?”

”Well...” Mai’s face instantly flushed a brilliant, burning red. She looked up at his calm, handsome profile, her heart suddenly skipping a beat. She swallowed hard, opening her mouth to speak—

”Suzuki-niisan.”

”....”

Mai froze. The blood drained from her face. She slowly turned her head, her eyes widening in absolute shock at the figure standing by the entrance of the café.

”WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, MAKI?!”

There she was. Mai’s estranged twin sister, Maki Zenin, the clan runaway currently attending Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Suzuki ignored the stares of the other café patrons and calmly pulled out a chair. ”Sit down. I called her here.”

”Huh?! Why?!” Mai demanded, looking wildly between her brother and her twin.

”Because it’s time.”

”Time for what?”

Suzuki adjusted the frame of his glasses, the café lights reflecting sharply off the lenses.

”It’s time to solve your twin curse.”

”.....”

Both Maki and Mai stared at him in utter, stunned silence.

”...What?” they whispered in unison.