Jujutsu Kaisen: Transmigrated As Satoru's Father

Chapter 14

Seijuro stepped out of the sleek black limousine, its polished exterior gleaming under the dappled sunlight filtering through the forest canopy. The vehicle was an obvious display of wealth and status, something he still wasn't entirely comfortable with.

"I swear, I'm not used to these luxuries..." he muttered under his breath, his crimson eyes scanning the forest path ahead.

In his previous life as David, luxuries like this were an alien concept. He had been middle-class, living a life defined by careful budgeting and simple comforts. His car, a beat-up sedan that groaned with age, was far from the stretch limo he'd just stepped out of. Back then, extravagance had been something he'd only seen in movies or envied from a distance. Meals were often home-cooked or fast food, not the gourmet spreads he now had access to daily. Being chauffeured in such style would have been laughable—unattainable.

And yet, here he was, the head of the Gojo clan, surrounded by wealth that could only be described as obscene. The stark contrast between his two lives left him feeling like a stranger in his skin.

The driver, a man in a tailored black suit, stepped out of the car and adjusted his tie before addressing Seijuro.

"Mister Gojo, just follow this path," he said, gesturing toward a dirt trail ahead. "It will lead you to the headquarters of the higher-ups."

Seijuro turned his gaze to the dirt path, his expression shifting from mild amusement to intrigue. The trail was unassuming—a narrow, worn strip of earth winding deeper into the forest. The surroundings were wild and overgrown, the kind of place that exuded secrecy and caution.

"I see," Seijuro replied. "Thank you. Wait for me here."

The driver nodded curtly, stepping back into his role of silent observer. Seijuro adjusted his robes and began walking down the path, his footsteps crunching softly against the dirt.

The simplicity of the trail made sense to him. For a group like the jujutsu higher-ups, secrecy was paramount. They couldn't afford to advertise their location with a grand road or lavish entrance. Instead, their choice of a rough, unadorned path reflected their desire to remain hidden from prying eyes. 

It was practical, useful, and completely in line with their shadowy nature.

As he walked deeper into the forest, the air grew cooler, and the dense canopy above blocked out most of the sunlight. The path was lined with tall, ancient trees whose roots occasionally jutted out, creating uneven ground. Seijuro's mind wandered as he moved forward.

"A dirt path for secretive meetings... makes sense. But seriously, a limo ride to this?" 

The absurdity of mixing such extravagance with such practicality wasn't lost on him. It was just another reminder of the strange balancing act he was living as the head of one of the most powerful clans in the jujutsu world.

"Well, at least the walk gives me time to think."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

"So, this is the place..." Seijuro muttered as he stepped out of the forest and into a small clearing. 

Before him stood a simple Japanese-style house, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. The structure was modest, almost unassuming, save for one strange detail: no windows gave the entire building an eerie, enclosed appearance.

The lack of windows and the dense trees surrounding it gave the house an oppressive atmosphere as if the building was swallowing light and air.

"Huh," Seijuro mused, narrowing his eyes. "No wonder the place is depicted to have a dark feeling to it..."