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

At three in the morning, the bedroom was quiet, with the lingering warmth of the two sleeping side by side.

Suddenly, a sharp and piercing cell phone ringtone ruthlessly shattered the tranquility.

Gojo Satoru opened his eyes almost the instant the bell rang.

He answered the phone, his voice, which had initially carried a hint of languid sleepiness, instantly lost all its softness upon hearing the report from the other end, becoming clear-headed, cold, and sharp, exuding a chilling sense of oppression.

Sumi Kichikawa was also awakened by the noise.

He groggily opened his eyes and, by the dim glow of the streetlights streaming in from the window, saw that Gojo Satoru had already gotten out of bed and was facing away from him, deftly putting on his black uniform.

"...Satoru?" Sumi's voice was still hoarse from just waking up, with a hint of tension that was barely perceptible.

Hearing the voice behind him, Gojo Satoru paused slightly in his dressing.

He turned his head, a soothing and gentle smile curving his lips: "Did I wake you? Sorry~ There's an urgent matter at school, you can go back to sleep."

At this moment, Sumire Kikawa's sleepiness completely vanished.

Instead of lying down as instructed, he threw off the covers, grabbed a thin cardigan, draped it over his shoulders, and strode out of the bedroom with Gojo Satoru.

In the entryway, Gojo Satoru was bending over to change his leather shoes. Hearing the deliberately light footsteps behind him, he straightened up helplessly: "I told you to keep resting. It's very cold at night. I'll be back in no time."

Kikawa Sumi didn't say anything, but silently walked forward and raised her hand to carefully straighten his uniform.

In the dim light of the corridor, Gojo Satoru keenly caught the worry and unease in the dark eyes of Sumi Kikawa, which could not be concealed no matter what.

Gojo Satoru's heart softened.

He leaned closer to her handsome face, his tone carrying a touch of habitual coquettishness and teasing: "Xiao Cheng, how about giving your busy boyfriend a kiss before he leaves?"

Kikawa Sumi's fingers paused slightly, and she leaned forward gently, placing a soft kiss on Gojo Satoru's forehead.

Come back soon.

Gojo Satoru's throat moved slightly, and his usually flamboyant and unrestrained blue eyes were now filled with only soft shimmer: "...Mm."

A black sedan sped through the empty streets of Tokyo in the early morning.

Kiyotaka Ijichi reported the situation: "An abnormal magical energy reaction has occurred in the Tokyo Bay warehouse area, initially judged to be near-Level 1. However, the concentration of residual filth at the scene is abnormal, possibly related to some unregistered Special-Grade magical artifact."

Gojo Satoru leaned back lazily in the back seat, his long legs crossed.

He took out a piece of candy that Sumi Kichikawa had given him before he left, slowly unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.

The sweet taste melted in his mouth, slightly soothing his irritation at being woken up in the middle of the night.

"An unregistered cursed object?" Gojo Satoru repeated the question indistinctly, his mouth full of candy.

"Yes, the specific source is still under investigation..." Ijichi was sweating profusely.

Gojo Satoru rested his chin on his hand, his eye patch making him appear even more distant. His tone was light and airy, yet carried a chilling undertone: "Which guy is littering again? Disturbing people's sleep in the middle of the night will incur divine retribution, you know."

The car arrived at the Tokyo Bay warehouse district.

The area enclosed by tents is a huge, completely sealed logistics warehouse.

Ordinary people on the periphery have been evacuated, but the tricky part is that three night shift workers are still trapped inside the warehouse.

A near-level one cursed spirit was entrenched in the very center of the warehouse, surrounded by countless low-level cursed spirits.

This would be an extremely troublesome mess for any ordinary sorcerer:

With hostages present, large-scale destructive spells could not be used; the warehouse was filled with steel frames and had a complex structure; the high concentration of cursed remnants severely interfered with the perception of cursed power; and most importantly, the quasi-level one cursed spirit possessed the ability to mimic, perfectly hiding in the shadows of darkness, waiting for its chance to strike.

Gojo Satoru walked to the huge iron gate of the warehouse and stopped.

He had his hands in his pockets and showed no intention of going in immediately.

"Mr. Gojo?" Ijichi stood behind him, so nervous that he dared not even breathe.

Gojo Satoru didn't turn around; he simply raised one hand casually, put up his index finger, and made a "quiet" gesture.

Beneath the blindfold, my gaze pierced through the heavy iron gate, revealing everything inside the warehouse—

The cold steel frames, the stacked containers, the purplish-black filth that permeated the air like miasma, the faintly beating vital signs of the three hostages, and the twisted and ugly core of the cursed spirit hidden in the deepest shadows...

Gojo Satoru's lips curled into a smile.

"Found it."

Before Ichiji could even process the meaning of those three words, the figure in front of him had vanished into thin air.

The next second—

"boom--!!!"

A deafening roar came from inside the warehouse, as if the entire building was trembling under the terrifying force.

Before the cunning near-level one cursed spirit could fully emerge from the shadows, it was forcibly torn out of the darkness by an irresistible and terrifying gravitational force and slammed heavily into the center of the open space!

It let out a shrill and twisted roar, its massive body writhing wildly, extending countless barbed tentacles, attempting to drag the unconscious hostage not far away into its body as a human shield.

However, a tall, slender figure had somehow appeared in front of the hostages.

Gojo Satoru didn't even glance at it, simply extending one hand casually, palm facing outward.

The cursed spirit's claws, sharp enough to tear through steel, slashed down fiercely with a foul stench, but stopped abruptly half an inch from Gojo Satoru's palm.

No matter how frantically it roars or struggles, that half-inch distance is like an insurmountable chasm, firmly keeping it out.

Gojo Satoru tilted his head slightly, looking at the hideous monster before him, and said in an almost complaining, even childish tone:

"Hey, why do you all like touching other people so much?"

The warm kiss he received before leaving the house flashed through his mind, and his eyes instantly turned icy cold.

"I would be really bothered if someone bumped into me."

The moment he finished speaking, he slightly flipped his raised hand.

The gravitational pull of "Azure" instantly converged to its extreme.

Before it could even scream, the level one cursed spirit was mercilessly crushed.

The crisis is over.

When Gojo Satoru slowly walked out of the warehouse, there wasn't a single wrinkle on his body.

He ignored Ichiji's awe-inspiring gaze and took out his phone from his pocket to take a look.

The screen was completely blank; no messages had been sent by Sumi Kichikawa.

"Mission accomplished, Mr. Gojo. The hostages inside are safe." Ijichi bowed respectfully. "The higher-ups haven't assigned any other missions for the time being."

Gojo Satoru yawned casually, a few tears welling up in the corner of his eye.

"Perfect, I can get another four hours of sleep when I get back."

He put his phone back in his pocket, turned around and strode towards the car, his steps much lighter than when he arrived.

When Gojo Satoru gently turned the key to open the apartment door, the living room did not fall into darkness as he had expected.

A dim floor lamp casts a warm glow throughout the room.

Gojo Satoru changed his shoes and walked into the living room, but his steps suddenly stopped.

Sumi Kichikawa did not go back to her bedroom to continue sleeping.

He was still wearing that thin knitted cardigan, sitting quietly on the sofa. And in his lap, he was tightly clutching the pillow that Gojo Satoru usually used to sleep on.

He stood there with his head down, his black, tousled hair obscuring his eyes and brows, like a silent and stubborn lighthouse, quietly waiting for returning ships in the dead of night.

Upon hearing footsteps, Sumi Kichikawa immediately looked up.

When he saw that Gojo Satoru was standing there unharmed, his tense shoulders instantly relaxed.

He stood up.

"Is it over?" Sumi Kichikawa's voice was soft, but her gaze carefully looked him up and down.

Gojo Satoru nodded, feeling as if a wad of cotton was stuck in his throat, unable to utter the witty remarks he usually made so easily.

Sumi Kichikawa didn't ask any further questions.

He stepped forward, took Gojo Satoru's slightly cool fingers in his hand, and led him toward the bedroom.

"Then let's go to sleep."

They returned to the bed filled with the scent of the two of them.

As soon as he lay down in bed, Gojo Satoru was like a cat that had finally found a sense of security. He used both hands and feet to squeeze himself tightly into Sumire's arms, burying his cheeks deeply in the other's warm neck, greedily breathing in the cool, comforting scent.

The room fell silent again. After a while, Gojo Satoru's muffled voice suddenly came from Sumireki's chest.

"I forgot to say something."

Kikawa Sumi pulled her arms back and hugged the person in her arms tightly.

"What?"

Gojo Satoru's fingers tugged at the fabric of Sumi Kikawa's pajamas as he whispered:

"I'm back."

In the darkness, Kikawa Sumi tightened her arms around him, nuzzled her cheek against the soft hair of the person in her arms, closed her eyes, and gently replied.

Welcome back.