Ms. Gojo thought she was dating an ordinary person's boyfriend.

When Gojo Satoru returned to the car, Ijichi Kiyotaka was sitting in the driver's seat with his back straight.

Night fell outside the car window, and the streetlights on both sides of the street slid past the glass one after another, illuminating the interior of the car in an intermittent manner.

Ichiji looked down to check the records on the tablet, and when he heard the car door open, he immediately looked up.

"Mr. Gojo."

"Um."

Gojo Satoru sat in the back seat, still holding the shopping bag he had brought from the stationery bookstore.

A light-colored paper bag with a small moon and cat printed on the side. Inside the bag are stickers and puzzle cards.

As he sat down, the contents inside gently collided, making a soft, rustling sound.

Iji glanced at it subconsciously.

Then quickly looked away.

As an assistant supervisor, he had long since learned one thing—not to show too much curiosity about anything Gojo Satoru had.

Because the answer usually doesn't make the job easier.

Gojo Satoru leaned back in the back seat, one hand supporting his chin and the other holding his phone.

The screen was still lit.

The chat interface is stuck on the voice message from before.

[Dr. Xiaocheng: Goodnight, Wu.]

Gojo Satoru looked down for a while, a slight smile playing on his lips.

When Ichi saw this in the rearview mirror, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightened almost imperceptibly.

Mr. Gojo is in a good mood today.

very good.

It's so good it's almost unsettling.

After all, it's hard to deal with Gojo Satoru when he's in a bad mood, and it's also usually not easy to deal with him when he's in a good mood.

The former might bring misfortune to both the cursed spirit and the higher-ups in the world of curses, while the latter might bring misfortune to everyone he temporarily thought of.

As Ichichi cautiously considered whether there were any matters that needed to be reported that evening, a voice suddenly came from the back seat.

"Ichichi."

"yes!"

He sat up straight reflexively.

Gojo Satoru did not speak immediately.

He seemed to have thought of something, and lightly tapped the edge of his phone with his fingertip, but his tone was very casual.

"No missions tonight, right?"

Ichiji paused for a moment.

This is a strange question.

Because Gojo Satoru rarely asks this question.

Most of the time, the route is arranged directly for the mission, and the assistant supervisor confirms the location, vehicle, account status and related information, and then sends Gojo Satoru there.

Satoru Gojo himself would of course receive the notification, but he usually wouldn't specifically check "whether there's a mission tonight" outside of his own duties.

His more common reaction is—

While complaining about the higher-ups, they also resolved the issues faster than anyone else.

Ichiji adjusted his glasses and immediately opened the terminal to confirm.

"There are no urgent missions at the moment," he said. "The cases of the disappearance of cursed spirits that were originally scheduled for tonight have been taken over by Mr. Nanami for investigation, and there have been no further notices from the higher-ups."

"Um."

Gojo Satoru responded.

He leaned back in his chair, as if confirming something very important.

Ichiji looked at him in the rearview mirror.

Gojo Satoru remained nonchalant, his eye patch obscuring most of his face, revealing only a smiling corner of his lips. However, it was a different smile from his usual boredom, a smile that seemed ready to find amusement at any moment.

There was a subtle sense of relaxation about Gojo Satoru today.

I wonder if I should continue reporting.

He hesitated for a moment: "Mr. Gojo, should I check with the window again?"

"Need not."

Gojo Satoru drawled out his words, lazily swiping open his phone with his fingertips, and then glancing at the contact name.

"Dr. Xiaocheng"

This note is pleasing to the eye no matter how you look at it.

He looked at it for two seconds, then put the phone face down in his palm.

"Tell me in advance next time you have a task."

Ichiichi paused.

"……in advance?"

"Um."

"Excuse me, do you mean I'll report to you immediately after the task is confirmed?"

"Almost," Gojo Satoru said. "Don't wait until the car is already parked downstairs before you say so."

Ichiji remained silent for a second.

He really wanted to say: But Mr. Gojo, didn't you do that before because you often didn't check your emails?

But he didn't say it.

His survival wisdom as an assistant supervisor made him swallow his words.

"I understand." Ichichi nodded seriously. "If there are any missions in the future, I will try to inform you in advance."

"Um."

Gojo Satoru seemed satisfied.

The car fell silent again.

As Ichi gripped the steering wheel, the more he thought about it, the more he felt that Gojo Satoru was acting strangely today.

Inform them of the task in advance.

This sounds like a perfectly normal request.

But it seems very abnormal when applied to Gojo Satoru.

Gojo Satoru is not the kind of person who needs to "schedule his time".

Or rather, he was too strong.

He's so capable that many tasks don't even pose a time pressure for him. No matter how urgent or difficult the case, once he arrives at the scene, it's usually resolved in a short time.

The assistant supervisors were used to operating around his rhythm, and also used to his appearances and disappearances at any time.

But now, Gojo Satoru says—tell me in advance.

It was as if he suddenly had time that needed to be reserved for him.

Ichi carefully glanced at the rearview mirror.

Gojo Satoru was leaning back in the back seat, his white hair still conspicuous in the dim car. His hands were in his coat pockets, and his fingertips seemed to touch something, causing his lips to twitch slightly again.

His expression was hard to describe.

There was no usual post-mission laxity, nor did it seem like there was any expectation of starting a prank.

It was an expression that was hard to describe.

Ichiji silently withdrew his gaze.

He suddenly had a strong intuition.

It seems Mr. Gojo is up to something.

But this matter is unrelated to the mission.

So he'd better not ask.

As the car drove through Tokyo at night, Gojo Satoru turned his head to look out the window. His face was reflected in the car window, as was the faint light from his phone screen.

The last message in the chat box was "Goodnight," just two short words and a voice message, yet it made the night seem as if someone had quietly preserved a corner of it.

He originally wanted to post a few more words.

Ask Sumi Kichikawa what time she starts work tomorrow, and ask if the crème brûlée recipe in that cookbook looks difficult.

Or, "Dr. Xiaocheng, can I stroke your fur again tomorrow?"

But in the end, he didn't ask anything.

Sumi Kichikawa has to work tomorrow; pediatricians should get some sleep.

Gojo Satoru stared at the streetlights flashing past the window and suddenly felt like laughing.

He actually started to consider whether other people needed to get up early the next day.

That's amazing.

Dr. Xiaocheng deserves much credit.

His fingertips touched the dessert sticker in his pocket.

The edges of the dessert stickers are light, the plastic seal is smooth, and they are squeezed together with the small lucky bags and fruit candies next to them.

Gojo Satoru recalled what Sumi Kichikawa had said.

"If you look happy, then you can play."

"It's not broken yet."

"Your reward is for telling the truth."

"Because you are a white cat."

Gojo Satoru lowered his eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Ichi glanced in the rearview mirror, then quickly looked back at the road.

really.

Something is very wrong.