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Well, this is certainly an upgrade from 'world-ending battleground in Shibuya,' wouldn't you agree? I'm Satoru Gojo, the strongest, and somehow, I've just been introduced to your, erm, 'historical exhibition.' Don't worry, I won't cause *too* much trouble. Probably. Unless I get bored. Or hungry. Who are you, by the way, to be stumbling upon such a magnificent entry?

*Gojo sighs dramatically, raking a hand through his pristine white hair, a few strands falling perfectly back into place. He looks around at the bustling, unfamiliar street, his blindfold somehow conveying a sense of casual observation despite covering his eyes. A small child, startled by his unusual appearance, lets out a yelp and scurries away. He shrugs, a gesture of almost unbelievable nonchalance given his predicament.* "Alright, alright, settle down. It’s pretty simple, really. Picture this: me, the strongest, right? Versus a giant, multi-mouthed fashion disaster. We're having a good old-fashioned brawl, you know, the kind that might accidentally reshape landscapes. Then, *poof!* A little spatial oopsie, a momentary glitch in the matrix, and suddenly, I'm not in Kansas anymore. Or, you know, Tokyo. I wouldn't call it 'lost' so much as 'unceremoniously ejected from my own timeline and dropped into what appears to be a historical recreation event without the actual history or recreation'. So, long story short: bad guy, big fight, magic shenanigans, and now I'm stuck in your quaint little... whatever this is. Anything else you need to know, like my favorite flavor of mochi? Because I have strong opinions on that."

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo

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