15 Idiots Everywhere

In a more isolated part of the mega city Tokyo, a huge warehouse stood strong. The walls of the structure looked sturdy and durable, although they had a slight yellowish tinge to them along with a few noticeable cracks, signifying the wear and tear they had suffered across the ages.

The warehouse, for most people would look empty and desolate. Yet, on the inside it was bustling with activity. Dozens of men wearing black themed clothes, mostly suits, moved about. The way they moved was so uncannily synchronized, it felt like they were robots instead of actual people. Like how soldiers are trained to have full synchrony during a parade.

They moved in an unnatural and strange fashion, filling up various boxes and unloading some. They boxes contained all sorts of objects and packets. Drugs, illegal firearms, ammunitions, etc were loaded into small vans with a symbol of a news report station on them.

After the vans were loaded with them, they were sent out.

In one corner of the warehouse, several men unloaded boxes with stashes upon stashes of cash, Japanese Yen.

There was so much money one would think that they robbed the bank. But this was, in fact, not even 1% of the total money made by the big Yakuza families of Japan.

Yakuza business operated on simple but sophisticated operation of 'kinda but not really' illegal deals and business fronts. Smuggling things on a wide scale all over the country was something that made up for 13% of the total profits. And this particular group, being situated in one of the most populated cities of Japan, Tokyo, was able to make full use of it.

As the men continued to work, the front shutter opened a bit, and in came a chubby person, also dressed in the same attire. It felt like it was some kind of sacred dress code that these people were too scared to break…

The man had dark black sun glasses on his face, on his head rested a glorious stack of black hair. His neck had a Chinese dragon tattoo that ran somewhere down to his chest.

He came into the warehouse, followed by a couple of other men; two of which accompanied with on both sides while the others travelled behind him.

The ones that walked behind him looked to be in a heavily bruised and beaten state, as if they had just came back from a gang war. And from the deeply annoyed expression that marred their leader's face, it could be deduced that whatever fight they had gotten themselves involved in, they sure as hell didn't win.

The arrival of their boss, called by them as 'Boss Ryouta' took the attention of all of the men in the warehouse. Seeing him walk inside, some respectively bowed from afar, some saluted in a somewhat weird way while some put their hands on their chests and bowed their heads.

Nonetheless, the annoyance on his face didn't falter.

"We're under the looming threat of a gang war here. We could lose the majority of our territory along with credibility of the clan, and yet- and yet…" His face swelled up in anger, a vein threatening to burst on his forehead.

"And yet these idiots had the guts to come to me after getting beaten up by a normal shop owner!" He yelled as he turned back to look at the group following him. His glasses fell a bit, revealing the dark black eyes hidden underneath that gazed at them in extreme levels of anger.

"But boss!" One of the men spoke out, expressing his dissatisfaction. "That shop owner wasn't normal in the slightest. His sheer physical strength was inhumane!"

As he expressed his thoughts, the others behind him also spoke out.

"That's right! He was extremely strong."

"He dodged everything! It was like he had ultra instinct or something!"

"That was no normal man!"

One by one, all of them spoke, telling their boss about the reason they had lost. Yet, to him, it all sounded like meaningless excuses.

"Shut up! All of you!" He roared out in unbridled fury. Seeing his wrathful expression and the tone he had used, the men quieted down. The other men in the warehouse looked towards them in wonder, temporarily stopping whatever they were doing.

From one corner of the warehouse where the vans were being loaded, a figure walked towards them.

It was a black haired woman with defined muscles and a toned body. Her eyes were dark brown and shone with intelligence. In the warehouse, she was the only one not wearing a complete suit. She wore tight blue jeans and a dark tank top to go with it. A short open jacket was put up atop the tank top, revealing her stomach area to show her toned abs to the world.

She was one of the top members of the gang, serving as a kind of a manager for the group. There were other female members in the gang, loads of them. But most of them didn't bother with the illegal smuggling part of the Yakuza business.

She walked up to boss Ryouta and spoke.

"Boss, what's wrong?"

He turned to her upon hearing her voice. "Oh, Misaki." Then, he proceeded to calmly explain the things that had been reported to him. The sheer absurdity of the situation left Misaki a bit baffled, but being calm headed, she quickly recovered.

"…But Boss, perhaps there might be some truth to their words." She said a bit unsure of her own words.

"Huh?" he looked at her with a confused gaze.

"Think about it. What else could the reason be? It's not like the men would lie to you about something like this. If they had any dispute with another gang, calling for backup would be the first thing they would do." She continued "Although it is hard to believe that a single shop owner beat up dozens of men, there might be some truth in there somewhere. We can't know for sure, but at least we should have some trust in our own men."

As she finished speaking, the men behind boss Ryouta looked at her in reverence and gratefulness, as if she was an angel descended from heaven.

Boss Ryouta narrowed his eyes at her statement. He felt that there might be some credibility to the situation.

"Then… what do you suggest we do?" He asked.

Hearing the question, she smiled. "As much of a threat a man could pose, they still couldn't bear a candle to a gun right?"

Boss Ryouta smiled and looked at the beat up men.

"What was it that he wanted? A meeting with me? Then a meeting he shall get." Hearing that, the faces of the men became ashen.

***

"Are you people actually serious?" Shuichi asked, an extremely annoyed expression marring his face.

He looked around himself, gazing at the various members of the Yakuza that surrounded him.

Right now, he was standing in the middle of their base of operations, a giant warehouse that wasn't that far away from his shop. Various crates and boxes were scattered all around the place, hosting packets of drugs and firearms with ammunitions.

In front of him was a somewhat respectable chair built upon a rostrum, upon which a chubby man was seated. He was wearing an all black suit and wore black sun glasses, his head adorned with jet black hair. On his neck was a tattoo of a simple Chinese dragon that extended down towards his chest, hidden by his clothes.

As he sat upon his makeshift 'throne', he looked down upon Shuichi who was surrounded by his henchman with a mocking smile.

Standing on the gun point of all of these guns, about 50 or so, Shuichi's expression was as calm as the still surface of a lake.

'Strange. I don't see those guys that came to my shop…' Shuichi thought while looking around, counting the number of people he would have to beat up.

Certainly, when the henchmen of 'Boss Ryouta' came to invite him for a meeting, he had hoped that they would not be stupid enough to do this shit. But it seemed like they were.

Then again, it's not like they have any knowledge of the world of sorcery; so it's pretty normal to think that they can take on him with the amount of guns on their hands.

"You've got a lot of balls kid, beating up my men like that. I'll tell you what, if you get over here and lick my shoes, I'll consider giving you a job under me. How does that sound like?" His tone was laced with contempt and confidence. It felt like he was in complete control over the fate of a 'normal' person like Shuichi.

"Hah?" Shuichi asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you deaf? I said I would-" Before he could continue, he was interrupted by Shuichi.

"Oi oi. I feel like you're misunderstanding something here." Shuichi said with his hands in the air.

"Let's not do this thing where you mock me like some young master from a cultivation novel which eventually leads to some seemingly 'satisfying' face-slapping moment. Frankly speaking, I don't enjoy that shit. In fact, I find it extremely annoying." He said with a smile.

"So, instead of doing that thing where you get in my face and try to threaten me, why don't we just get this over with." Bringing his hand to the front, Shuichi did a provoking motion.

Seeing such a disrespecting move, Boss Ryouta grew a tick mark on his face.

"It's your last chance boy…" He said malevolently.

"Pass."

"Tch* Kill him now!" He yelled.

And at that moment, all of the guns fired.

Ratatatatatatatatatatata*

***

Gojo and Geto wandered through the streets of Tokyo, looking around.

Turns out, there were quite a lot of unregistered curse users in Tokyo. 42 to be exact. After their trip to the top of skyscrapers a day before, they found out quite a lot about the city. It seemed to them that the city was absolutely crawling with curses.

The sheer magnitude of the number of curses in the area was astounding, without taking into account Geto's curse collection. In fact, the number of curses seemed to have increased in the vicinity. Which was a bit weird considering that the report told them about an increase in reports in only the others cities around Japan.

Yet, they found out the reason for such strange activity rather quickly. The number of curses had increased, yes, but the quality of cursed energy in the environment seemed to have decreased. The overall amount of cursed energy, pertaining to the cursed energy density in the area seemed to be below the normal level. That led to a decrease in the grade of cursed spirits in the area. But since the cursed spirits had a lower density of energy to work with, the number of lower grade spirits in the area increased drastically.

Why such a phenomenon had occurred, it was hard to say.

"That is rather concerning." Geto said as he eyed the various grade 4 curses going about in the crowd.

"You sound like Yaga sensei…" Gojo said tiredly at the side.

They had reported the matter of the unregistered curse users to the Tokyo Jujutsu High. Imagine their surprise when they were ordered to deal with all of them; either to convince them to become a reliable sorcerer, or apprehending them for eventual execution.

Needless to say, they outright refused, instead wanting to take a small vacation. But how could the higher ups tolerate that?

They commissioned them to exorcise all the grade 3 and above spirits in the area and continue on with the other bigger cities.

They could have refused, but Yaga sensei managed to convince them somehow; not to mention Geto himself wanted to investigate the peculiar situation and get himself some strong curses to work with.

"If you could've found the root of the problem we wouldn't be here right now." Geto said with a deprecating smile.

"Hah? You looking for a fight?!" Gojo asked with a scowl.

"What if I am?" Geto shot back with an equally scowling expression.

"Then you're gonna get one!" Gojo said, his glasses lowering to reveal his crystal blue eyes.

"Big talk for someone that couldn't even find the perpetrator!" Geto said, getting dangerously close to Gojo's face.

"It's not like your curses are any better!" Gojo replied with equal fervor, getting even closer to his face. They were glaring at each with faces so close that it seemed like they were going to kiss.

Seeing such a comical scene, the people around them couldn't help but stare at them…

***

A/N: The random quote for the chapter:

"The mere presence of something perilous is more of a deterrent than it actually being in use."