The Strongest Sorcerer, Chapter 57: Homeroom Teacher of Class 2-D, Mafuyu Kirisu

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Fuming with anger, Taiyo Oga stormed back into his classroom, his emotions in complete disarray. For some reason, he was growing more and more irritable, and all he could think about was wishing that teacher, Gojo, would just die.

“Hey, Taiyo, are we still practicing after school later?”

One of Taiyo’s friends walked up to him casually.

“When we get to the field, your little fangirls are probably going to swarm you with water bottles again. So jealous, man.”

He spoke with genuine envy.

“Practice your damn self! Get lost!”

But Taiyo suddenly shot up from his seat, shouting at him with an enraged expression.

The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

What’s wrong with me? Why am I so angry all of a sudden?

“Wait, no… Matsutake, I didn’t mean…”

“Are you freaking serious? What the hell did I even say to you? Forget it, screw off.”

Having been insulted out of nowhere, Matsutake felt a surge of anger himself. Without hesitation, he grabbed a textbook from a desk and hurled it directly at Taiyo’s face before storming out.

Taiyo was left sitting there in a daze.

But after barely three seconds, his face twisted into a feral expression. He stood up abruptly, charged forward, and viciously kicked Matsutake in the back as he was leaving the room.

“Ahhh!”

“Did I say you could fucking leave?!”

The two of them started grappling, devolving into an all-out brawl.

The noise jolted awake the rest of their classmates, who had been napping in the classroom. They rubbed their eyes, utterly bewildered.

After all, Taiyo and Matsutake were known to be best friends. How had they ended up fighting like this?

When they saw Matsutake pinned to the ground with blood trickling from his nose, several classmates rushed forward to break up the fight. One of them even ran out of the classroom to get a teacher.

If there had been an Onmyoji, exorcist, or someone with strong innate cursed energy in the room, they would have seen it clearly: dozens of small black orbs swirling around Taiyo’s body.

These black orbs were small demons.

On the rooftop.

Leaning against the railing, Gojo Satoru gazed out at the open view of the schoolyard below.

“This is what youth is all about,” he said wistfully.

Youth? Sensei, how old are you even?

Masuzu Natsukawa mentally rolled her eyes at the statement.

From the perspective of others, Gojo Satoru appeared to be no older than 19 or 20.

But in reality, counting only his years in the Jujutsu world, he was already 28. His immense cursed energy had halted his physical aging, keeping him as youthful-looking as when he had been a student at Jujutsu High.

“Gojo-sensei, thank you so much for today,” Masuzu said as she walked up to the railing, her expression serious and full of gratitude.

Counting today, this was already the second time he had saved her.

“Hmm~,” Gojo hummed lazily, before turning his gaze to Masuzu, his tone teasing.

“If you really want to thank me, how about repaying me with your body?”

“…Gojo-sensei, are you some kind of pervert? A teacher-student relationship? That’s absolutely not allowed,” Masuzu shot back, rolling her eyes.

“What? That’s such a straightforward rejection. I guess I’m getting old… even my adorable students are losing interest in me,” he said with mock dejection, turning his attention back to the schoolyard.

Of course, he had only been joking about the “repaying with your body” part.

But beside him, Masuzu suddenly fell silent.

Her romantic tendencies had her overthinking the joke, wondering if she really should consider it. After all, he had saved her twice now, and he perfectly matched her standards in every way.

For a brief moment, the rooftop was filled with an awkward silence.

“Pfft—”

Gojo suddenly let out a laugh.

“Can’t handle a little joke, huh?”

“…What?”

Masuzu blinked, momentarily confused, pulled out of her reverie by his words.

Gojo didn’t explain himself. He simply glanced at her with an amused look before turning to leave.

“Better head back to class; lunch break’s almost over,” he reminded her as he walked away.

“Ah, right,” Masuzu replied, her big eyes blinking in confusion.

Why does it feel like there was some deeper meaning behind what he said earlier…?

In the hallway.

Gojo didn’t head back to Class 1-F immediately. Instead, he made his way to the second-year classrooms.

Just moments ago, his Six Eyes had detected a repulsive aura of demonic energy.

This ominous presence was emanating from Taiyo Oga.

After walking for a while, Gojo stopped in front of the Class 2-D door.

He slid it open with a smile and leaned in.

“Excuse me,” he said cheerfully.

The scene inside was chaotic.

The classroom was in complete disarray—desks and chairs were toppled over, books were scattered everywhere, and several students looked visibly shaken.

Among them was a teacher wearing formal professional attire.

What caught Gojo’s attention the most, however, was a student sitting on a chair, holding a bloodied bandage to his forehead. The blood was starting to seep through the fabric.

“And you are?”

The female teacher, her face as cold as frost, turned to Gojo with a puzzled expression.

“I’m Gojo Satoru, homeroom teacher for Class 1-F,” he said, still smiling.

But inwardly, he was surprised.

Another familiar face, huh.

The female teacher had waist-length cherry-pink hair, neatly styled bangs, and two braided locks framing her face. Her sapphire-blue eyes and perfectly symmetrical features made her undeniably beautiful, though her expression remained icy and indifferent.

She was none other than Mafuyu Kirisu.

“So, you’re Gojo-sensei,” Mafuyu said with a small nod of realization.

She had heard about him—he was the new teacher who had recently joined Sobu High.

“Sorry to let you see such an unpleasant scene, Gojo-sensei,” Mafuyu said, her tone and expression filled with exasperation.

She had not expected one of her normally well-behaved, passionate students to get into a fight—especially not with one of his best friends.

According to the other students, all Matsutake had done was invite Taiyo to baseball practice, but Taiyo had exploded in rage, hurling insults with an uncharacteristically volatile temperament.

Still, if you considered who started the physical fight, Matsutake was technically at fault, since he had thrown a book at Taiyo’s face after being provoked.

Gojo didn’t respond. He simply smiled and looked toward the back of the classroom.

In the far corner, Taiyo Oga sat crouched down, his head buried in his arms, as though overwhelmed with guilt.

But Gojo could see it clearly—Taiyo’s body radiated barely contained rage, his expression hidden by his arms was likely twisted into something feral.

…