Reborn in Jujutsu Kaisen as a Zenin

Toji Zenin's return to the compound caused the expected stir of disgust and dismissal.

The Sorcerer Killer, as he'd become known in the underground, had carved out a reputation that even the clan couldn't entirely ignore – though they tried.

Four years of mercenary work had transformed him from a clan embarrassment into something more dangerous.

His lack of cursed energy hadn't stopped him from eliminating targets that even Grade 1 sorcerers hesitated to face.

But it wasn't pride that brought him back. The clan's archives contained information he needed about a particular cursed tool – one that could complete his arsenal.

Even being the clan's shame had its uses; no one would suspect him of having deeper motives.

He'd heard about Naobito's second son, of course. Had even watched the boy's battle with the Six Eyes user from a distance.

But sorcerer prodigies, no matter how impressive, held little interest for him. Power was power, whether inherited or earned.

What made him pause in the training ground wasn't the boy's presence – though Indra Zenin's unusual height and build made him look closer to eleven than eight.

It was his expression. A smile of pure battle-hunger, the first real emotion anyone had seen on his face.

"The Sorcerer Killer," Indra spoke, his crimson aura becoming visible for the first time in months. "I've been waiting since I've known about your existence."

"Oh?" Toji's hand rested casually on his weapon, years of instinct reading the threat level before him. "And what would interest the clan's new prodigy in someone without cursed energy?"

"Someone who kills Grade 1 sorcerers without cursed energy?" Indra's smile widened slightly. "Who better to have as a subordinate?"

That made Toji pause. Not a challenge to fight, not the usual clan politics, but a direct offer. The boy's reputation suggested he didn't waste words or make idle proposals.

"Subordinate?" Toji's voice carried amusement, but his eyes stayed sharp. "The clan's shame serving under an eight-year-old? That's an interesting proposition."

"Age is irrelevant," Indra stated. "Power and purpose are what matter. You have the first. I can give you the second." His crimson aura pulsed slightly. "Along with resources, protection, and freedom from clan politics."

"Not interested," Toji replied flatly, turning to leave. "I work alone."

"How about a wager then?" Indra's words made him pause. "Whatever you came to the clan you hate for, plus..."

A slight tilt of his head, an almost playful note entering his voice, "enough money to clear those gambling debts I've heard so much about. Quite the impressive sum, from what I understand."

The gathering crowd of clan members shifted uncomfortably. They may hate Toji, but no one spoke so casually to the Sorcerer Killer, much less made light of his well-known vices.

"Simple terms," Indra continued. "Fight me. Win, and you get everything you want plus whatever amount of money you name.

As the strongest in the clan, such resources are easily within my reach." His smile took on a sharper edge. "Lose, and become my right hand. After all, every King needs his Knight."

Toji turned back slowly, reassessing the boy before him. Not just power, but cunning. Using his weaknesses, offering exactly what he needed, all wrapped in a challenge his pride couldn't easily dismiss.

The watching clan members held their breath. The clan's shame facing the clan's prodigy – a spectacle none had expected.

"The rules are basic," Indra stated. "No killing blows. Fight ends with clear submission or inability to continue." His crimson aura rippled slightly. "Unless you're worried about facing someone who can actually see you coming?"

That last comment drew sharp breaths from the observers. Everyone knew Toji's greatest advantage was his lack of cursed energy making him invisible to normal sorcerer detection.

"Tomorrow morning," Toji decided, his mind already analyzing possibilities. "Main training ground."

"Why wait?" Indra's challenge hung in the air. "Right here, right now."

The watching crowd tensed.

Toji's pride wouldn't let him back down, not after being so expertly maneuvered. His hand moved to his grip his weapon more tightly, ready. "Your funeral, kid."

"Begin," Indra stated simply.

In that moment, everything changed. Toji's legendary speed meant nothing as his world suddenly inverted.

One instant he was preparing to strike, the next his face was being crushed against stone, Indra's grip implacable. The back of his head cracked against the ground with devastating force.

Crimson energy flickered around the boy's fingers – the infamous Gentle Death technique that had bypassed even Infinity itself. One touch would be all it took to end more than just the fight.

The watching crowd stood frozen, minds struggling to process what they'd just witnessed. The Indra they'd been watching, the one who'd issued the challenge, unknown to all had been nothing but an illusion.

By altering the attributes of perception itself, he'd fooled not just normal sight but all five senses of everyone present.

The real Indra had been positioned beside Toji from the start, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Submit," Indra commanded quietly, the Gentle Death's crimson glow emphasizing the point. "Or the Sorcerer Killer's legend ends here."

The silence in the training ground was absolute. Not just Toji's defeat, but the manner of it left everyone stunned.

The Sorcerer Killer, known for striking before his targets could even sense him, had been taken down in an instant.

Even Grade 1 sorcerers needed to detect cursed energy to track movement. But Indra had demonstrated something else entirely – to them speed that made Toji's renowned abilities seem pedestrian.

"Impossible," someone whispered from the crowd. The boy who'd wounded the Six Eyes user had just proven that wasn't his only feat worth noting.

Toji's muscles tensed, decades of battle experience searching for a counter. But the crimson energy around Indra's fingers left no room for resistance. One thought and it was his end.

"Well?" Indra's voice carried across the silent training ground. "Your choice, Sorcerer Killer. Death or service?"

Toji's laugh was unexpected – a genuine sound of amusement despite his position. "You planned this from the start, didn't you? The offer, the wager, all of it."

"Of course," Indra replied simply, his grip unchanging. "I don't waste time with uncertainties."

Another laugh, shorter this time. "Fine, kid. You've got yourself a knight." A pause, then with surprising humor, "My King."

The crimson energy faded as Indra released his grip, helping Toji to his feet with a gesture that marked their new relationship.

The Sorcerer Killer had found a master worth serving – not through clan politics or coercion, but through pure, overwhelming power.

"First order," Indra stated. "Tell me what you really came here for. Your King should know what his Knight needs."

Kisara approached as the crowd began to disperse, her assessment of the situation characteristically precise. Three years as Indra's retainer had taught her to read the subtle shifts in power dynamics.

"Another subordinate?" she asked, though her tone suggested she'd expected something like this. The Ten Shadows user had watched Indra gather resources and allies with careful purpose these past years.

"The Sorcerer Killer and the Ten Shadows user," Toji observed, rubbing the back of his head. "Quite the collection you're building, kid."

"Each piece serves its purpose," Indra replied. "Now, again, about what brought you back to the clan..."

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(Author note: So Indra got himself a knight named Toji!

Yeah, I wasn't gonna let this guy waste away as an assassin. No way.

Also, how did you find Indra's scheme? 

Aizen inspired a lot of it.

Also, the reason why it worked, is because Toji doesn't have any Law of Heaven that would make it so it costs too much, unlike Gojo who has the Six Eyes, making it so illusions be worthless, since it is made to be able to see through everything.

So yeah, I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)