Rebirth In The Days When Curse Gao Was The Boss Chapter 30
byDay 30 of Transmigration
Gojo Satoru’s airtight “fostering” plan was in full swing, but the daily routine at Jujutsu High did not stop because of it. A notice broke the cycle of training grounds and dessert shops—the new theoretical studies teacher had finally arrived, and the long-stalled theory courses were about to resume.
When the news arrived, reactions varied.
Itadori Yuji clutched his head and wailed, “Eh—?! We have to go to class?!”
Kugisaki Nobara was relatively calm: “We are students, after all. We can’t just fight all the time.”
Fushiguro Megumi silently pulled out his dusty notebook.
Maki pushed up her glasses, noncommittal.
Panda and Inumaki Toge huddled together, seemingly more interested in the “new teacher” himself.
As for Xue Yang, upon hearing the words “theoretical studies,” he displayed an undisguised expression of disgust, as if he had heard something filthy. Sitting in a classroom listening to those dry rules and regulations? He would rather go one-on-one against a Special Grade Cursed Spirit.
Gojo Satoru found Xue Yang’s look of dread highly amusing. He leaned over to tease him: “What’s wrong? Our fearless Xue Yang is actually afraid of classes?”
Xue Yang rolled his eyes at him: “Who’s afraid? I just think it’s a waste of time.”
“Oh?” Gojo Satoru raised an eyebrow. “What if the teacher says that theoretical studies grades are related to the level and compensation of future missions?” He paused deliberately, watching Xue Yang’s expression shift slightly, then slowly added, “Also, if you perform well, I’ll take you to that molecular gastronomy dessert place this weekend—the one that requires reservations six months in advance…”
Xue Yang: “…” Damn it, he was being manipulated again.
The new theoretical studies teacher was a middle-aged man named Sato Hiroki. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, had meticulously combed hair, and a crisp suit. His entire demeanor exuded a sense of rigor, rigidity, and even a bit of old-fashioned stiffness. He was a stark contrast to Gojo Satoru’s flamboyant and casual style.
For the first theory class, Sato-sensei stood at the podium, his gaze sternly sweeping over the students seated below in various postures.
“Starting today, I will be responsible for your courses in Jujutsu theory, history, and behavioral standards,” his voice was steady, without much fluctuation. “A Jujutsu Sorcerer’s power is immense, but it requires the constraint of knowledge and rules. Otherwise, you are no different from a curse…”
The opening remarks immediately made Xue Yang frown. Constraint? Rules? He scoffed inwardly.
The course content was exactly as Xue Yang had predicted: dry and boring. Sato-sensei cited classics and elaborated in detail on the essence of Cursed Energy, the origins of Jujutsu, the classification and characteristics of various Cursed Spirits, and the numerous regulations Jujutsu Sorcerers must abide by. His lecture was clear and logically rigorous, but for the young sorcerers accustomed to practical combat and freedom, it was nothing short of a lullaby.
Yuji was already nodding off like a pecking chicken, Nobara was forcing herself to take notes, Fushiguro Megumi listened relatively seriously, while Maki occasionally looked out the window, clearly uninterested. Panda and Toge sat in the back row; one was secretly dozing, and the other was silently counting rice ball fillings.
Xue Yang, however, wasn’t asleep. He merely propped his chin with one hand, unconsciously twirling a pen with the other, his eyes unfocused, clearly lost in thought. Occasionally, when Sato-sensei spoke about certain “behavioral standards” that Xue Yang deemed utterly pedantic, he would let out a clear, unapologetic sneer, causing Sato-sensei’s displeased gaze to frequently sweep over him.
“…Especially concerning certain non-traditional, even dangerous techniques,” Sato-sensei’s gaze pointedly landed on Xue Yang, “they require strict supervision and guidance to prevent straying onto the wrong path and endangering oneself and others.”
This was practically pointing a finger. The atmosphere in the classroom instantly became tense.
Xue Yang finally reacted. He lifted his eyelids, his amber eyes lazily looking toward the podium, a mocking curve playing on his lips: “Oh? So, according to the teacher, wouldn’t it be simpler to just lock up ‘dangerous elements’ like me?”
Sato-sensei’s face darkened: “Xue-kun, please watch your words! I did not mean that; I am merely emphasizing the importance of standards…”
“Standards?” Xue Yang interrupted him, slamming his pen onto the desk with a sharp sound. “They are things used to protect the weak and bind the strong. True power dictates the rules, it is not bound by them.” He spoke with arrogance, yet with a cold certainty, stemming from the law of the jungle in his world.
The classroom fell silent. Even the dozing Yuji woke up with a start.
Sato-sensei was clearly infuriated by this rebellious statement, his face turning ashen: “You…!”
“Alright, alright~” A lazy voice sounded just in time, breaking the deadlock. Gojo Satoru, who had appeared at the back door unnoticed, leaned against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, wearing his usual casual smile. “Sato-sensei, theory class is about inspiring thought; no need to take it too seriously. Our Xue Yang is just… opinionated.”
He was smoothing things over, but the gaze behind his sunglasses lightly swept over Xue Yang, carrying a hint of imperceptible indulgence and… pride? As if saying, “Look how much personality my student has.”
Sato-sensei’s momentum visibly weakened when he saw Gojo Satoru, but he was even more exasperated by Gojo Satoru’s obvious favoritism. Unable to lash out, he could only swallow his anger and stiffly continue the lecture.
After class, Gojo Satoru naturally walked up to Xue Yang, draped an arm over his shoulder, and led him out.
“How was it? Wasn’t theory class fascinating?” he asked with a grin.
Xue Yang shrugged off his arm and snapped, “Utterly boring.”
“Is that so? I thought you were quite spirited debating with the teacher,” Gojo Satoru teased. “But next time, try to restrain yourself a little. After all, respecting your teacher is also one of the ‘rules,’ you know?” He said this without an ounce of sincerity.
Xue Yang snorted and ignored him.
Gojo Satoru didn’t mind and continued talking to himself: “But you’re not wrong. Rules, sometimes, are meant to be broken. As long as you have enough strength.” He leaned close to Xue Yang’s ear, lowering his voice, laced with temptation, “Just like me.”
The warm breath brushed his ear, and Xue Yang paused, his earlobes heating up again. He quickened his pace, trying to shake off the annoying guy behind him.
The resumption of theoretical studies was like a drop of water falling into a pan of oil, stirring up a small ripple in the otherwise calm (relatively speaking) life at Jujutsu High. Sato-sensei’s rigidity and strictness contrasted sharply with Gojo Satoru’s recklessness, leading to a more direct clash between Xue Yang’s dark forest survival philosophy and this world that sought to construct order through rules.
Gojo Satoru, meanwhile, was delighted by the outcome. He was even looking forward to seeing what kind of territory this unruly little beast would tear out for himself within this framework, under his indulgence and guidance.
In any case, no matter what trouble Xue Yang caused, he had the “Strongest” to back him up. This feeling was like owning a unique, dangerous, and captivating treasure, and he savored every moment of it.