I Was Kidnapped by a Book and Ended Up Saving the World - Chapter 18

With hot food, new clothes, and a room that was temporarily his own.

Xue sat quietly on the stool in the room, hands resting on his knees. His freshly washed face paired with his posture gave him a very well-behaved look.

Gojo Satoru pulled over a chair and began asking questions about the child his friend had left behind. At this moment, Gojo was unusually patient—discovering traces of Geto Suguru after his departure always carried a sense of novelty, like opening an old treasure chest.

“So, your name is?”

“Xue.”

Gojo looked at his fair skin and faintly ethereal aura, nodding. The name surprisingly suited him well. He continued, “And your surname?”

Not good at naming himself, Xue shook his head. Looking up at Gojo with those pink eyes, he said softly, “I don’t have a surname.”

Gojo paused for a second, then said casually, “Eh, no big deal. You can use whichever surname you like in the future, Xue.” His tone was so relaxed and natural that it was as if having no surname was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Since it was too late for him to join this year’s class, and he looked pitifully young, Gojo thought for a moment before saying: “Then you can study with the next batch of students.”

He smiled. “Maybe you’ll even gain some amazing friendships by then.”

Just then, Gojo’s phone chimed. Xue didn’t see the message, but Gojo’s expression immediately turned bored. Waving his hand, he said, “I’ve got business to handle. If you need anything, you can go to your senpai or Principal Yaga.”

After Gojo left the room, Xue—still sitting on the stool—was able to openly meet Geto Suguru’s gaze.

There was a faint smile at his lips, his expression no longer inscrutable. Lowering his head slightly, his violet eyes held a calm warmth. At this moment, with his hostility fully concealed, Geto seemed almost like a gentle, caring elder.

In a low voice, he asked: “Do you want revenge?”

The sudden shift in topic was unexpected. Xue lifted his head and fell silent, unsure of Geto’s intentions—after all, he didn’t really have anyone he needed to take revenge on.

Geto leaned closer, bringing his violet eyes to the same level as the boy’s pink gaze. “Don’t you hate that monkey? The so-called foster father who tossed you away like garbage in the snow?”

He spoke with a smile, but beneath that smile Xue could sense a chilling undercurrent. He lowered his eyes and put on a pained expression at just the right time.

No need to fabricate a background—Geto had already given him a ready-made revenge script.

As Geto leaned closer, Xue could clearly see the invisible fire burning within his pink eyes.

A low chuckle escaped Geto’s lips as he gazed at them. “I’ll help you. Those so-called righteous jujutsu sorcerers will only find excuses to hold you back—but I won’t.”

His violet eyes burned like a quiet flame in the night, yet his expression was increasingly gentle, almost bordering on tender pity. “I’ll teach you, Xue. I’ll teach you every method of revenge. I’ll teach you how to change this rotten world.”

Looking timid, Xue whispered, “My foster father is a killer. I could never resist someone that strong.”

Geto’s eyes curved, and he reached out. Though unable to touch others, he still mimicked the gesture of holding the boy’s hand. “It’s alright. With me here, there will always be hope.”

Xue gazed at him, his pink eyes brimming with trust. The frail boy finally murmured a quiet “Okay.”

His long, white lashes lifted slightly as he asked, “Then… will our training start today?”

Geto straightened up, brushing his hand through Xue’s messy white hair across the void. “At least take today to rest. We’ll have plenty of time together—no need to rush.”

Normally, Geto often fell into silence, but after making this pact of revenge with Xue, it was as if a new fire had been lit in his heart. His whole being seemed energized.

“I’ll find you a good place to train,” he said, before walking straight through the closed door and vanishing from sight.

Alone in the room, Xue swung his legs lightly. The dormitory was neat but sparse, with little more than a bed and a chair. Still, Gojo had said more things would be delivered soon.

His gaze turned distant.

A rogue special-grade sorcerer. A dangerous temptation. Xue was used to perilous environments, used to sharing space with dangerous people—but what surprised him was how genuine Geto’s eyes had seemed just now.

No wonder he could form his own cult. With eyes and sincerity like that, it was hard for anyone lost in doubt not to be swayed by him. He was the kind of man unshakably certain of his path, impossible for anyone else to change.

Looking down at his thin fingers, Xue thought: wherever he went, he disliked being this weak. If this mission required him to stay for a long time, then training his body was necessary.

Once he mastered jujutsu, if the Port Mafia needed a sorcerer again, he could step in. Then both his true self and his alias could enjoy comfortable vacations.

Perhaps Geto was wandering the grounds of his old school, revisiting old places.

Xue rolled up his sleeves. The uniform Gojo had given him didn’t fit—it was borrowed from a graduate, retrieved from storage.

It smelled faintly of dust, who knew how long it had been kept away. But Xue didn’t mind; compared to the rags he had worn before, this was a treasure. Warm and comfortable, it finally kept the cold from spreading through his body.

Outside, the snow had stopped. The sun hung high but gave off no warmth.

Through the glass, Xue admired the thin layer of snow resting on the eaves of the old buildings. Winter gave the place its own kind of beauty.

Turning away, he studied himself in the mirror. Messy white hair. Pink eyes. A frail frame. Beautiful features.

So that’s what I look like…

The boy in the mirror blinked slowly, his calm demeanor suddenly carrying a mischievous charm.

Mocking his own play at cuteness, Xue pushed the door open and stepped out. He had only heard vague things about this school before—surface-level information. Now that he had become a sorcerer himself, he wouldn’t waste the chance to explore it properly.

Walking slowly along the gravel path, he took in the gray-blue sky. Though the snowfall had ceased, the air was still biting cold.

Then he heard it—the metallic clash of weapons. Curious, Xue followed the sound.

He quickly realized it must be the first-years; Gojo had mentioned them. After all, if he needed anything, he was told to find them.

Sorcerers were few in number, but surely not as rare as in Yokohama. In a proper school under Gojo’s watch, there had to be at least a dozen.

Yet when Xue arrived, there were only two students sparring—with a panda. His surprised gaze lingered on the fluffy creature.

Had the jujutsu world grown so desperate for people? Training a panda was one thing, but just hiding one would already break the endangered species protection law—especially a panda, of all things.

Sensing his stare, Panda turned mid-sparring, his beady black eyes puzzled. “You’re a new student? Transferring at this time of year is a bit late, isn’t it?”

Even his voice carried a little uncertainty by the end.

After all, they were about to become second-years. A new student would normally arrive with the next batch of first-years. Why was this one early, already in uniform?

Xue nodded. “Yes, I’m new. But I’ll be joining the next batch.”

The green-haired girl with a high ponytail pointed her spear at a nearby weapon rack stacked with all kinds of arms. “Want to spar?”

Xue shook his head. His current body couldn’t keep up with the techniques in his mind. He suspected even a simple fall might break his bones.

Their training wrapped up, so Inumaki Toge and Zenin Maki packed up while Panda waddled over, his fluffy body looking harmless.

Curious, he asked: “So what’s your technique?”

Xue had been about to say he didn’t know—when suddenly, a word surfaced in his mind. It was strange, but natural, as if etched into his very soul.

“Annihilation.”

The method of using it appeared effortlessly in his head.

Xue placed his palm against a thick tree trunk. It was supposed to destroy, right? Maybe it would just peel some bark?

Cursed energy surged from his hand like a spring bursting forth.

A tree as thick as a man’s arms couldn’t withstand it—instantly splitting apart. The section where his palm had touched disintegrated into fine white powder, spraying through the air. With a loud crash, the once leafy tree toppled into the thin snow.

“Junior… I don’t think our school allows destroying trees,” Panda muttered in disbelief.