It was two in the morning, and the rain was coming down in sheets.
Kiyotaka Ijichi felt like he was knocking on death's door. As an Assistant Director at Jujutsu High, he had been on the clock for forty-eight hours straight.
And ten minutes ago, Satoru Gojo had called. In a tone so cheerful it made Ijichi want to jump off a bridge, Gojo had ordered him to go buy Kikufuku mochi.
In this weather? At this hour? Where was he supposed to find Kikufuku?
"Damn it... damn it..."
Stumbling, Ijichi veered into a narrow alleyway.
He just wanted a place to hide from the rain, maybe smoke a cigarette to soothe his fraying nerves.
However, as he wiped the fog from his glasses, he froze.
This wasn't a street he recognized.
The neon signs on either side flickered madly, like a bad connection. Deep within the alley, a single warm, yellow kerosene lamp glowed.
It was a vintage storefront.
The wooden sliding door was half-open. Hanging from the eaves was a sign with no name, just a symbol painted in black lacquer: a strange, balanced scale.
"A shop... in a place like this?" Ijichi instinctively sensed something was wrong.
But exhaustion won out. Ijichi collapsed his umbrella and pushed the door open.
"Excuse me..."
Accompanied by the crisp chime of a wind bell, a wave of dry warmth mixed with the scent of old paper hit him, instantly banishing the damp chill clinging to his suit.
The shop wasn't large, but the layout was bizarre.
The four walls weren't lined with ordinary shelves, but with hundreds of dark wooden drawers, looking exactly like an old-world apothecary cabinet.
Behind the counter, a young man wearing a dark gray vest and gold-rimmed glasses had his head down, focused on polishing something in his hands.
It looked like a colorful little cube.
Ijichi squinted. A Rubik's Cube?
No.
Every face of the cube seemed carved with densely packed eyes. As the man polished it, the closed eyelids seemed to tremble ever so slightly.
"Welcome."
The young man didn't look up. His voice was as smooth as jade, yet carried a distinct sense of detachment.
"This is Exchange No. 8. Technically we're closed, but since you managed to find this place in such a downpour, it implies you have a 'dilemma' that requires immediate attention."
Ijichi rubbed his hands together awkwardly, rainwater dripping from the hem of his suit onto the floor. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to get out of the rain... By the way, is there a sweet shop open nearby?"
The young man's hands stopped moving.
He slowly raised his head. It was a face impossible to forget—a straight nose, refined features, and pale skin. He could easily pass for a movie star.
"There are no sweet shops," the man said, setting down the 'cube' and pointing to a high stool at the counter. "But I do have a cup of tea that can save your life."
Ijichi sat down, offering a bitter smile. "Save my life? I certainly feel like I'm dying from overwork."
"It's not just the overwork."
The man turned and pulled a glass jar with no label from the cabinet behind him. He took a pinch of dark red tea leaves and dropped them into a pot.
"Anxiety, panic, self-doubt. You feel like a normal person trapped between monsters. Whether it's the 'Strongest' you serve or the 'Curses' you face, they are slowly grinding your spirit into dust."
The sound of water pouring into the pot was incredibly clear in the quiet shop.
"Mr. Kiyotaka Ijichi. Being an Assistant Director isn't an easy gig, is it?"
Ijichi shot up from his seat, cold sweat instantly breaking out on his forehead. "You know me? Which curse user group are you with?"
This wasn't a coincidence. It was a trap.
"Sit."
The man spoke the word softly.
There was no surge of Cursed Energy, yet Ijichi felt an invisible weight press down on his shoulders. His legs gave out, and he fell back onto the stool.
The man slid a steaming cup of black tea toward him.
"Relax. I'm just a businessman running a small operation." The man smiled, though it looked practiced, almost artificial. "My name is Lynn. This tea is called 'Absolute Calm'."
"For the next 72 hours, it will strip away all unnecessary fear and cowardice. You will process your work like a precision machine. You'll be able to flee from a Special Grade curse without blinking, and face Satoru Gojo without... well, at least without stuttering."
Ijichi stared at the tea, his Adam's apple bobbing.
It was exactly what he needed. He was on the verge of a breakdown. If he didn't find a crutch soon, he really might hang himself in the bathroom at Jujutsu High tomorrow.
"The price?" Ijichi's voice was dry. "How much is it?"
"I don't want money."
Lynn clasped his hands on the counter, his eyes locking onto Ijichi.
"I'll trade this cup of tea for your 'good luck' over the next year."
Ijichi blinked. "Huh?"
"For the next year, you will never win the lottery. You will always miss the train. Your instant noodles will be missing the flavor packet. You will almost certainly step in dog crap when you walk down the street." Lynn shrugged. "You trade these trivial misfortunes for 72 hours of 'Absolute Calm' during the most critical moment of your career. It's a fair trade, don't you think?"
A lunatic.
This guy was absolutely a lunatic.
Ijichi's mind screamed at him to run, but his hand moved uncontrollably toward the cup. The enticing aroma drilled into his nose, making every exhausted cell in his body scream drink it.
"If it's just luck... then take it," Ijichi gritted his teeth. "Guys like me never get lucky anyway."
He tipped his head back and drained the cup in one go.
Heat slid down his esophagus into his stomach, then exploded, rushing straight to his brain.
The sensation was miraculous.
All the anxiety and fear in his mind were instantly smoothed out. His heartbeat steadied, and his vision became clearer than it had ever been.
Ijichi set the cup down and pushed up his glasses.
This time, his hand didn't shake.
"Thanks for the hospitality," Ijichi stood up, straightening his soaked suit. His voice was steady. "I don't know what your angle is, but the tea works. Good night."
He turned and walked out the door, his stride firm, the previous slump in his posture completely gone.
Lynn remained seated behind the counter, watching Ijichi's back disappear into the rain.
"Deal closed."
Lynn snapped his fingers.
In the air, faint golden motes of light drifted up from the stool Ijichi had occupied. It was the "luck" that had been stripped away. Lynn produced a small transparent vial, captured the light, and tossed it into a drawer.
As the drawer slid shut, a line of pale blue text, visible only to Lynn, floated in the air.
[Transaction Complete!]
[Item Acquired: Ijichi's One-Year Luck Supply.]
[System Valuation: 500 Points.]
[Current Balance: 570 Points]
"Only 500 points? That's not even enough to redeem a low-grade Cursed Tool."
Lynn took off the gold-rimmed glasses he wore to look scholarly, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and sighed helplessly.
He wasn't from this world.
A week ago, he was living the 9-to-5 corporate drone life on the other side of the universe. He woke up and found himself transmigrated into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, the owner of "Exchange No. 8."
He didn't have the Six Eyes like Gojo, born at the peak of power. He didn't have an iron stomach like Yuji Itadori, capable of eating cursed fingers.
According to Jujutsu standards, his physical strength was a solid "Grade 4" at best—he could probably beat an unarmed Assistant Director in a fistfight.
In a world where Special Grade curses roamed freely and curse users were everywhere, stepping outside with this level of power was suicide. He was dead meat.
His only reliance was this strange shop that came with him, and the system known as the [Equivalent Scales].
"Inside this shop, I am invincible."
Lynn tapped the counter. This was one of the shop's rules: Absolute Peace Domain. Even if Ryomen Sukuna walked in, he couldn't initiate any violence here.
The shop's other rule was [Wish Resonance].
The shop didn't exist at a fixed physical coordinate. It only appeared to Jujutsu Kaisen characters whose spirits were on the brink of collapse, those desperate to change their status quo.
This meant that everyone who pushed open that door was a potential high-quality mark to be harvested.
"But the moment I step out that door, I'm just a civilian."
Lynn laughed self-deprecatingly. "Unless... someone owes me money."
This was the most terrifying and core ability of the [Equivalent Scales]—[Forced Default].
As long as someone made a deal with him, until the debt was paid, that person was his "private property."
By spending points, he could force the system to protect both himself and his debtor from fatal threats.
Beyond that, the System Store was filled with all sorts of bizarre commodities.
From items with special effects to various Cursed Techniques, physiques, and Domains—everything was available.
This was the foundation that would allow him to walk sideways through this world.
But the prerequisite for all of this was—people had to trade with him.
"Activating 'Forced Default' starts at 100 points a pop... I'm going to burn through this balance instantly."
Lynn looked at his pitiful savings. According to the system's conversion rate, one point was roughly equivalent to ten thousand yen.
"An Assistant Director's luck isn't worth much, but if it were that person..."
Lynn picked up the colorful "Rubik's Cube" again.
If Satoru Gojo were here, he would instantly recognize the true nature of this object—the Special Grade Cursed Object: Prison Realm.
Although it was just a knock-off model he'd bought for cheap, it had a similar structure and partial functionality to the real deal.
The rain was getting heavier.
"Go on, Mr. Ijichi."
Lynn whispered to himself. "You're going to need that calm. After all... tomorrow you have to send those three kids to their deaths at the detention center."
"Now then, time to go meet the real whale."