CH 37: DON GOJO
"So, I save the sorry ass of your friend and this is how you thank me? Man, I am hurt."
Gojo was holding three dango sweets as he asked.
Surrounding him were ten people all wearing the shinigami uniform.
"In the first place–" He took a bite and gulped down, "So as I was saying, in the first place, what are you doing here? You do understand that this is the 4th division district, right?"
After saving the previously poisoned guy, Gojo had saved three other people.
Then, since he didn't have a night shift, he had decided to go to the home that was assigned to him.
It was a rather simple studio that he was supposed to use until the end of the next month, after which, he would either leave the 4th division quarter or move to a better, more furnished house that would be befitting of his rank.
It was after leaving a sweet store where he had bought some snacks that it happened.
He was being ambushed by a group of mobs.
If it had happened any other day, Gojo would have been happy.
After all, he loved such cliche scenes and he loved beating up people.
Right now though, he wasn’t happy at all.
He was tired, irritated, and hungry. He was everything but happy.
'Man, this is such a pain, and damn, just how does that grandma make her sweets?’
Taking another bite of the sweet dango in his hand, he groaned in pleasure while inwardly wondering if the old woman tending the store was putting some kind of drugs in her sweet.
Something so good shouldn’t exist.
Then again, souls could live for hundreds of years. Even the dumbest man would become a master if you gave him that much time.
"Heh.” The scoff of the initiator of this whole charade brought him back from his imagination where an old woman was somehow the matron of a drug cartel.
“You don't seem worried despite being surrounded. Did you know just how much shame you made me feel this morning? Time to make you feel the same."
"Worried?"
Gojo stopped eating and looked at them with surprise.
Even though they couldn't see the upper side of his face because of the black blindfold, they could somehow imagine his eyes widening.
Then–He began to laugh.
Gojo laughed and laughed for a few seconds straight.
His laughter was so unexpected that no one seemed to understand what they should do.
"Me? Worried? Because of you?"
He asked again, as if he had heard the greatest joke in history.
Then, as if a flip had been switched, his laughter stopped and was replaced by a condescending grin that settled on his face.
"Why should I be worried about being besieged by you guys? After all, you are all just so… Weak."
"Bastard!"
The other shinigami flew in fury immediately.
Initially, they just wanted to scare him a little.
After all, Gojo did save a member of their squad.
What's more, the 4th division's members had always been their target of bullying, and they didn't want them to think that the situation had changed.
Now though, it was personal.
Looking at them rush towards him, Gojo simply sighed.
How long had it been since he had to face such a cliché scene?
If at least they had been stronger it might have been entertaining, but those mobs did not even hold a seated rank.
"If you guys advance one more step–you will die."
The moment he uttered those words, a pressure so heavy that it felt like it could crush them fell onto their shoulders.
'How is it possible!?'
They widened their eyes while their breath became rough and labored.
Even though only a few meters separated them from him, they suddenly felt as if it was thousands of meters instead.
Cold sweat covered their face as one thought filled their mind.
'This man could kill them all without even moving a finger.'
This was the gulf separating two existence at completely different levels.
When the difference in Reiatsu and Reiryoku reached a certain level between individuals, fights were not even necessary for the simple reason that the weaker party wouldn't even be able to move.
For people like Unohana who could infuse their killing intent into their Reiatsu, it was possible to kill weaker beings with just that.
Looking at their frozen self, Gojo simply infused one of the sticks, now devoid of dango, with his Reiryoku and threw it at the instigator.
*Ugh*
The stick, as if piercing butter, penetrated deep into his shoulder.
But the shinigami only let out a muffled grunt.
After all, no matter how weak he was, he was still a trained soldier.
"Killing you would be a pain. So take this as a little punishment. Only rabid dogs bite the hand that fed them and you know what we do with rabid dogs, right?"
They could hear the threat behind those words loud and clear.
There would be no second chance.
Turning around, Gojo simply discarded them from his mind and began to walk away.
He had more important things to think of than a bunch of mobs whose names he did not even know.
If Gojo had stayed, he would have been creeped out by what he would have seen
The eyes of the four beaten men weren't full of resentment, hatred, or any such negative feelings, but only bright and endless admiration.
It was as if a group of fangirls had met their new idol.
He didn't know it yet, but this would be the start of endless headache-inducing troubles that would make him wish to just bang his head against a wall.
----
[4th division, Hospital]
The next morning, just as Gojo was walking toward the Hospital to begin working.
He stopped short when he saw the same ten people he had faced yesterday, standing in front of the door.
His nonchalant expression cooled off as he began to wonder whether he should break a few of their bones if they were here to make trouble.
Walking toward them, he was about to speak when they suddenly stood on either side of the road and bowed deeply and shouted in a loud voice.
"Welcome!"
Looking at this scene straight out of some bad Yakuza movie, Gojo pinched his eyebrows.
'What the actual fuck is happening?'
He could feel that this was going to be a long day.