I Was Kidnapped by a Book and Ended Up Saving the World - Chapter 11

It was winter. The five-year-old Gojo Satoru saw a black fox in his courtyard. The fox’s fur glistened under the sun, and it opened its mouth to say:

“Hello, I am your future wife. As you can see, I’m a fox spirit.”

The fox’s narrow eyes curved with a smile. Though it wasn’t human, it was indeed a very beautiful expression.

Mizutani Hikaru pretended not to care, though his ears were already perked up. Ever since finishing that rom-com about “my girlfriend is a fox spirit” last month, he hadn’t found another story that suited his tastes so well. The opening of this book completely struck his heart.

Gojo Satoru waved a hand in front of his eyes and said, “Spacing out again?”

The young man’s handsome face was partially covered with white bandages. He leaned casually against the black car door, his posture loose and relaxed.

Hikaru’s attention gradually fell on him. The book’s foreshadowing was too strong—it made him genuinely curious whether Gojo Satoru really had a fox-spirit wife.

He forced himself to suppress the curiosity and led Gojo toward the mafia’s side.

“No need for all those pointless talks and formalities. Just take me straight to the special grade cursed spirit.”

The man’s voice came from behind, tinged with impatience, as if he loathed all forms of bureaucracy.

Gojo caught up with Hikaru in a few strides, tilting his head to study the man beside him. His cursed energy was ordinary, his level far from high, yet this same man had suppressed the growth of a special grade cursed womb and even escaped from an unformed domain.

“No technique, and barely any cursed energy,” Gojo’s words were blunt to the point of rudeness. He asked, “So how did you manage that?”

Hikaru lowered his gaze, adjusting the slightly disheveled sleeve of his shirt.
“My psychic ability works on cursed spirits too. And in the instant I hit it, my cursed energy changed a little—attacks infused with cursed energy suddenly felt a lot stronger than usual.”

Gojo raised one finger. “Hm, you might’ve pulled off a Black Flash.”

He dropped a term that clearly belonged to the jujutsu world, though he didn’t bother to explain it. His face remained smiling.

Even with his eyes hidden tightly behind the bandages, Hikaru could feel that gaze on him.

He could only turn away, feigning ignorance. That man definitely suspected Hikaru couldn’t have achieved all this alone. And in truth, Hikaru himself knew that the real reason they had been thrown out of the special grade domain came down to that explosion—
the stacking of psychic abilities, unlike anything before, an explosion so powerful it had even made the special grade cursed womb feel threatened.

Hikaru slowly closed his eyes, then quickly opened them again. Fortunately, Gojo did not continue pressing on the subject. After Hikaru reported to the boss and got approval, he led Gojo to the cursed spirit’s location.

As they stepped into the ruins, a chill crept into Hikaru’s nose.

Gojo stretched out his hand. Even with his eyes covered, he still caught a drifting snowflake.

“It’s snowing.”

In the silence, Hikaru heard his words.

This year’s snow had come earlier than usual. Hikaru’s thoughts scattered for a brief instant, but he quickly refocused on the task. He pointed at a bullet-riddled slab of stone:
“Shoot there, and you’ll be able to enter that strange space.”

Gojo loosened up his shoulders, speaking lightly. “No need for all that. Just give me one minute.”

Before Hikaru could react, Gojo vanished from sight. Without firing a single shot, he simply stepped straight into that grotesque flesh-woven domain.

The next moment, a deafening roar filled the air.

A colossal sphere of light burst forth, the noise several times greater than the commotion Hikaru’s team had caused days earlier. It blasted a massive crater into the ground.

Startled, Hikaru leapt back a few steps to avoid the impact.

Gojo was right. Though Hikaru had heard rumors that this man was praised as “the strongest in the jujutsu world,” only now did he truly feel that overwhelming power.

When the sound finally died down, Gojo reappeared before him, grinning. His dark-blue uniform was spotless, not even a speck of dust clung to its hem—as though he had been strolling through a park, not exorcising a special grade.

“All done.” His tone was light, almost playful.

The mafia squad that had been standing guard nearby quickly rushed over at the noise. Soon, a ring of tall men in black suits with guns surrounded Hikaru.

Their leader, tense, scanned the area before bowing slightly.
“Lord Mizutani, was there an enemy attack?”

Hikaru shook his head, signaling with a simple hand sign. The leader nodded and withdrew with his men to resume their watch.

Gojo, who had looked utterly uninterested moments ago, now showed a peculiar spark of excitement as he observed them. He lowered his head slightly, curiosity in his voice:

“You people normally just pop up like this? Then kill, burn, chase debts?”

The string of words left his mouth with an almost childlike intrigue.

“Not anymore.” Back when the old boss was nearly mad, those things happened endlessly. But since Ougai Mori had taken charge, the mafia’s rage had calmed into something steadier and more measured.

“My student’s very curious about the mafia. Maybe I’ll bring him here sometime.”

Hands stuffed into his pockets, Gojo tilted his bandaged face as though examining everything around him.

Hikaru replied naturally, “You and your student are most welcome.”

Of course, it was politeness. Yokohama produced cursed spirits less frequently than other places, so who knew when they’d meet again. But since the boss wanted to build a good relationship with Gojo Satoru, Hikaru had no choice but to play the gracious host.

It was winter again.

Gojo Satoru’s ice-blue eyes looked upon a fox before him. His gaze was lighter and colder than the season’s first snowflake, his voice equally so:
“Are you a mutated cursed spirit?”

The fox good-naturedly corrected him.
“No. A wife.”

Its voice was cool and clear, syllables precise. In the stillness of the snowy day, it walked toward the young Satoru.

“You’re still small now. When you grow up, you’ll understand—I’m your destined wife.”

The fox leapt up. Satoru instinctively wanted to retreat from this strange creature, but the warmth of its fur against his palm made him hesitate.

The fox nestled against him, rubbing its nose against his cheek like a light kiss.

It was bizarre, even mad. The young Satoru didn’t understand why the fox could speak, nor why he himself held it without any guard.

Soon, the fox buried its head into his chest, curling into a ball and falling soundly asleep without a trace of wariness.

Satoru stared for a long while before finally reaching out, gently pinching its soft ear tip. Strange as it was, he didn’t dislike what was happening.

Hikaru instinctively wanted to smile, but forced it down.

It was exactly the kind of rom-com he liked. Just that short fragment of story had already hooked his heart completely.

“Twice now, you’ve stopped in your tracks,” Gojo suddenly remarked as they walked back.

“The first time was when you first saw me. The second was just now.”

The corners of his mouth curved with interest.
“What are you thinking? I’m really curious.”