Nighttime. The Greater Tokyo Area. Shinjuku Ward, Kabukicho 1-Chome.
This district is an absolute magnet for bars, clubs, theaters, and love hotels. It is the ultimate playground for urban youth and the yakuza alike.
Hayashi Ichiro stood on the roof of a mixed-use commercial building. Wearing a sleek tactical visor, he gazed down at the scenery unfolding in another building a few dozen meters away. It was a public bathhouse.
A few scantily clad, exceptionally well-proportioned women strolled laughing down the corridor. The occasional glimpses of bare skin during their playful banter gave Ichiro quite the feast for the eyes.
He muttered to himself, "Tokyo really does live up to the hype. The quality here is spectacular. Ooh, the one in black is delightfully curvy... definitely my type."
Just then, a voice cracked through his earpiece.
"Hey. Hayashi Ichiro-san, are you even listening?"
"As a private detective, you should be doing the job your client paid for!"
The sudden spike in volume ruined Ichiro's mood for sightseeing. He let out a heavy sigh.
"Let me repeat myself, Attorney Higuruma Hiromi. Just call me Ichiro. There is no need to be so incredibly formal."
"I do not recall our relationship being quite that intimate, Hayashi-san. Just focus on the task I hired you for."
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you."
Ichiro placated his client over the earpiece while shifting his gaze away from the bathhouse. He focused on another commercial building just a short distance away. Under the harsh, cool-toned lights of a particular room, several heavily tattooed men with dyed hair were crammed together, clearly plotting something unsavory.
"Higuruma-san, let me confirm this one last time. I just need to make sure they cannot show up to court tomorrow, correct?"
"Yes. As long as they do not appear in court tomorrow, that is all I ask. I do not want to wait around much longer."
"Relax. I will not waste your time."
Ichiro cut the communication. He visually gauged the distance between his roof and the target building, then took a few slow steps back to give himself a proper runway.
Taking a deep breath, he began to regulate the Cursed Energy surging through his body. The moment he mobilized his energy, the tactical visor on his face dissolved into nothingness, revealing a handsome, roguish face.
He had sharp eyebrows, deep-set eyes that carried a hint of frivolous charm without losing their edge, and a high bridge of the nose. A teasing smile hung on his lips. With slightly fluffy dark brown hair, he stood at about 185 centimeters tall with a thoroughly athletic build.
His outfit of choice was a khaki trench coat over a red crew-neck t-shirt, paired with slim black trousers and black leather boots.
Ichiro rolled up his coat sleeves, exposing the crisp muscle lines of his forearms. He crouched slightly, broke into a sprint, and jumped!
Fueled by Cursed Energy reinforcing his physical body, Ichiro leapt from the rooftop. He crossed the gaping chasm between the buildings effortlessly, without the need for any gadgets. In just a few bounds, he arrived at his target's floor.
The glass window shattered on impact.
He crashed into the room with a flying kick that planted itself squarely on a yakuza member's jaw. The man was launched backward, bounced off the wall, and slumped to the floor, completely knocked out.
"Oh dear, are you doing alright?"
Ichiro brushed the residual glass shards off his clothes, looking down at the man he had just kicked into next week. He offered his totally insincere concern before turning his attention to the rest of the room. His eyes locked onto a man sitting near the back, whose hand was suspiciously hidden under a desk. That was the primary target.
"Who the hell are you?!"
Ichiro's explosive entrance left the thugs frozen in shock. All they could do was shout at the intruder.
Ichiro did not bother answering. He simply flashed a wickedly malicious smile.
The very next second, he moved.
His superhuman speed and strength turned him into a blur. He did not even need advanced martial arts techniques. He just used pure, unadulterated speed and force to absolutely steamroll every thug in the room.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Six rapid, deafening gunshots echoed through the room. The boss stared in pure terror at Ichiro, who was now standing casually right in front of him. The small revolver in the yakuza's hand clicked empty.
Ichiro stood still. He raised his left hand and opened his fist. Six crushed, deformed bullets fell to the floor, making a series of crisp clinking sounds.
"You bastard... what exactly are you?!"
"As you can see, I am a Jujutsu Sorcerer."
Thirty Minutes Later.
Several police cars gathered beneath the mixed-use building, their sirens silenced but lights still flashing, responding to an emergency call. Up in the crime scene, now cordoned off by police tape, a man walked in wearing a perpetually exhausted, deeply troubled expression. It was Ijichi Kiyotaka, an auxiliary manager from Tokyo Jujutsu High.
He surveyed the heavy battle damage in the room before dialing his phone.
"Yes, this is Ijichi Kiyotaka. According to the victims' statements, the attacker was a tall man who called himself a Jujutsu Sorcerer. I can confirm faint traces of residual Cursed Energy at the scene. We have already verified that there are no registered Jujutsu Sorcerers assigned to the Kabukicho area. This is an unregistered individual. The target? Yes, identifying the suspect will require further investigation. I am not sure yet if we are dealing with a rogue Sorcerer or a Curse User."
"Understood. I will continue the investigation. Please rest assured."
Meanwhile, on the ground level a few blocks away, Ichiro stood next to his client, Higuruma Hiromi. Together, they watched the ambulance load up the bruised and battered yakuza members before driving off.
"You can relax now, Mr. Attorney," Ichiro said. "I put a lot of heart into completing your request, you know."
Higuruma, dressed sharply in his signature black suit, ignored Ichiro's casual banter. He watched the ambulance's taillights fade into the distance, then turned on his heel to leave.
"I will wire the final payment to your account before noon tomorrow, Hayashi-san. I truly hope our paths never cross again."
Seeing his client's cold, stay-away-from-me attitude, Ichiro jogged to catch up and threw an arm around Higuruma's shoulders.
"Hey now, Mr. Attorney, don't be so cold! Lawyers who actually practice true justice are a rare, endangered species in the legal world. I think we would make an amazing team. You pick the targets, and I handle the physical labor. It helps you uphold justice, I get paid, and you can even help me manage my assets! We can partner up, expand the business, and reach new heights of glory!"
"My apologies. I have absolutely zero interest in partnering with a potential criminal. This was strictly a business transaction."
"A righteous business transaction! Look at the bargain price I gave you. I basically just helped you win your case. I really think we should consider a long-term partnership."
Higuruma stopped and looked at him.
"Who exactly are you, Hayashi-san?"
"Heh. Just like you see, I am simply a City Hunter." Ichiro smirked. "Higuruma-san, if you ever change your mind and need to reach me, just go to the message board at Shinjuku Station and write 'XYZ'. I will be waiting for your good news."
Ichiro removed his arm from Higuruma's shoulder and watched his client merge into the bustling crowd of pedestrians. Finally, he turned around, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and hummed a cheerful little tune as he walked back toward the scene of the crime.
As he strolled away, he brushed shoulders with a deeply exhausted corporate worker named Ijichi Kiyotaka, neither of them saying a word.