I Was Kidnapped by a Book and Ended Up Saving the World - Chapter 24

Snow’s pink eyes were filled with shock as well. Gojo Satoru stood up and placed a bouquet in front of Suguru Geto’s grave.

The weather was truly pleasant today; the thin layer of snow that had fallen earlier had already melted, and the tombstone gleamed with a subtle luster. Everything seemed peaceful to an almost unbelievable degree.

Geto’s expression had completely hardened. His brows were furrowed, and his narrow purple eyes seemed to sweep over a violent storm, radiating an overwhelming aura of killing intent that made anyone shiver.

Snow’s gaze moved beyond the grave mound, and in a near-innocent tone, he asked, “Is Mr. Geto inside?”

Gojo nodded with a smile, standing beside Snow. His tone carried a hint of drifting memories. “I personally buried him.” His usual exaggerated smile softened, and for a brief moment, genuine emotion poured out from him.

Warm sunlight poured over Snow’s face, illuminating his fair skin to near translucence as he bowed his head. Gojo could even see the tiny red veins in Snow’s eyes—the red patterns circling his pink irises were so beautiful, it looked like a living work of art. Gojo, unaware of the full situation, patted Snow’s head and joked, “No one else is here. If you want, you can talk to him.”

Snow looked at Gojo, unsure of what to say.

Geto’s cold and sharp expression was temporarily subdued, but a deeper question arose in Snow’s mind: what kind of person could steal his body right under Gojo’s watch, even though Geto was a famous special grade? After death, his body shouldn’t have been highly valuable.

Who would risk angering Gojo this much, and what could possibly justify stealing the corpse?

So who stole the body? And what does the person behind it want with it?

These two questions weighed on Geto’s mind and simultaneously surfaced in Snow’s thoughts. The mystery of the binding on Snow’s body hadn’t even been resolved yet before they were drawn into an even bigger puzzle.

Snow placed his hand on the cold tombstone and slowly closed his eyes, hearing the wind rustling dried leaves and the faint sound of fabric.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw a piece of patterned cloth, and Geto was sitting on the tombstone. He was slightly taller than Snow and looking down at him; Snow’s gaze met the lower part of Geto’s flowing robe.

Geto seemed to have temporarily suppressed his anger, but his aura was still formidable. He spoke in a low voice, “Tell Gojo about this first. If someone has taken my body and somehow established a binding with you, this situation is far more complicated than we imagined.”

His purple eyes flickered with a ghostly light. The feeling of being schemed against sent his anger to its peak.

Gojo crouched down next to Snow. When Snow slightly turned his head, Gojo immediately noticed something unusual about his student. Smiling, he asked, “What’s wrong? You feel shy to tell him?”

Gojo thought Snow might have been embarrassed to speak privately to Geto.

Snow shook his head slightly and whispered, “Is Mr. Geto really inside? I have a very strange feeling.”

Gojo lifted his chin slightly, signaling him to continue.

The white-haired, pink-eyed boy pressed his palm seriously against the soil, then pressed his whole body against it, an odd motion as if trying to listen to the heartbeat of the deceased.

After a while, he stood up and dusted off the dirt. “I keep feeling like Mr. Geto isn’t actually in there.”

Gojo patted Snow on the head. “You have a connection of cursed energy with Geto, so you might sense things others can’t.”

Gojo quickly made a decision. He suddenly disappeared and reappeared within a minute, holding a sharp metal shovel glinting in the cold light.

Everything happened rapidly. Snow’s help wasn’t needed at all; Gojo dug up the coffin alone.

The speed felt unsettling to Snow—the shovel seemed pre-prepared, not a spontaneous reaction to Snow’s words. Gojo seemed ready to dig today from the start.

When the brown coffin appeared, Gojo lowered his brows and said in a deep voice, “The coffin has been opened.”

The person who opened it had been careful, restoring everything perfectly and leaving no trace of cursed energy. Gojo placed his large hand on the dark coffin and, with slight force, fully opened it—empty. Nothing inside.

Snow had expected Gojo to rage, but his emotions were more complex than Snow anticipated.

Gojo said nothing. He closed the empty coffin, refilled the earth, and buried it again.

“The one on your body is a binding,” Gojo surprisingly turned the topic to Snow. He muttered as if to himself, “The cursed energy of the dead doesn’t linger, but the living is different.”

Gojo removed his blindfold, placed his hands under Snow’s armpits, and lifted him almost like holding a child.

Then, those stunningly blue eyes looked directly at Snow’s heart. The cursed energy from Geto hadn’t disappeared; it flowed joyfully like a fish, mingling with Snow’s cursed energy, clearer than last night.

Something was very wrong. Gojo’s behavior was stranger than ever. Snow looked down and asked, “Sensei, what’s happening?”

Gojo’s hesitant expression twisted into a grim smile. Slowly, he put Snow down and gazed at him with his piercing blue eyes. “Surprised? You think I’d be furious and go hunt down whoever stole Geto’s body?”

Snow slightly nodded, stepping back. He suspected Gojo might have gone insane from anger.

Gojo’s teeth clenched. “Rather than guessing about the binding, I have a new theory.”

He pressed Snow’s forehead suddenly. His bright blue eyes were shocking. Accompanied by a creaking sound, Gojo said, “Geto never died. Before engaging with me, he left a contingency plan.”

He tapped Snow’s heart. “You’re one of his contingency plans—the foolish No.1 voluntarily supplying your life.”

Snow opened his mouth, about to say something, but Gojo’s words poured out like bullets. “Ha, that’s why he didn’t give up so easily.”

Gojo’s eyes shone, muscles tense, his speech accelerating—he had clearly entered a strange state of excitement.

Geto covered his face again, muttering in disbelief, “His reasoning skills have never been great.”

Snow was about to rein in Gojo’s runaway thoughts when suddenly…

A screenshot appeared in front of him.

The background was the familiar five Mafia buildings, with a tall man’s figure in the corner—half tied hair bun, wearing a robe.

“When I noticed something was wrong yesterday, I issued a reward,” Gojo said, taking back his phone. His tone was almost certain: “Geto is in Yokohama.”

Snow and the ghost were shocked. Snow even heard Geto mutter, “Huh?”

Gojo squinted, tossing the phone lightly in the air and catching it deftly. He pinched Snow’s cheek. “Alright, you’re my captive now. When we find him, I’ll collect your tuition fee.”

He carried Snow back to the school, still in a strangely excited state, moving passionately.

Snow, left behind, said with difficulty, “Sensei, you’re really alive in Yokohama?”

Geto perfectly caught the joke. He replied, “My soul is still here, floating.”

Geto’s soul remained at the school, but his body was happily moving in Yokohama—a chilling thought.

“We have to go to Yokohama.” Geto narrowed his eyes, reaching out to touch Snow’s head through space. In the brief glance earlier, he saw his skin showing no signs of death. Something unknown occupied or controlled his body, yet it remained active.

Previously, he couldn’t enter his own body, but now it seemed there was a chance to reclaim it.

Snow said nothing. If this disguise went too far, it would mean controlling three bodies in Yokohama simultaneously—the risk was too high.

Noticing his expression, Geto thought Snow was worried about venturing into unfamiliar territory. His smile softened, and he leaned slightly forward, his tone lifting: “Don’t worry. I won’t let you get into danger.”

Geto lightly pressed his forehead against Snow’s, speaking clearly at such close range: “You are my only student. I will help you get revenge, watch the world with you, and make you happy.”

In the gradually darkening sky, his soft-spoken words painted a future as if outlined in syrup and jewels.

Snow fixed his pink eyes on Geto and, for the first time, voiced a dissenting opinion. “Sensei… I don’t want to go to Yokohama.”

Suddenly, a strange energy swept over Snow, a sensation reminiscent of the moment he first encountered the book.

Feeling uneasy, Snow lifted his head, and saw Geto’s black hair sprouting two soft fox ears, his fluffy tail swishing behind him.

Geto held his tail with one hand, frowning in surprise and confusion.

A risqué expression came to Snow’s throat, which he firmly resisted. Almost immediately, he said rapidly, “Fine… we’ll leave tonight.”

At that moment, bold letters appeared above Geto’s head: [Important Event in Progress].

As the book had said, the photo was only valid after the event concluded, but he hadn’t expected the disguise would also need to participate. Snow rubbed his forehead, nearly causing an awkward scene at the school—but he managed to adjust in time.

Still, a small aftereffect remained. Geto’s fluffy black tail twitched slightly in irritation, drawing attention. Snow observed, “Sensei, don’t worry. I’ll go to Yokohama and reclaim your body.”