Robot stood at the front of the GDA facility's testing room, his metallic frame gleaming under the harsh lights as he wrapped up his instructions.
The crowd of hopeful heroes—some fidgeting, others standing tall—listened as he moved on to the tryouts.
"First contestants for the Guardians of the Globe recruitment test," he announced, voice steady and clear, "Gojo Satoru and Rex Splode." A murmur rippled through the group, heads turning. Gojo blinked, caught off guard for a second, then smirked as he caught Rex's reaction.
The guy lit up—grinning like he'd just won something—before tossing a mocking jab Gojo's way.
"Oh, this is gonna be good, shades! You're toast!" Rex called, cracking his knuckles with a cocky swagger.
Gojo tilted his head, confusion flickering in his mind. 'Why's he so happy?' he wondered. Rex had seen him wipe out the Flaxans—erasing portals, crushing aliens, shredding them in seconds.
Maybe he figured Gojo wouldn't use those big, destructive moves here, not in a controlled test.
Or maybe he thought even a loss wouldn't boot him from the team—Robot picking him anyway for attitude or whatever. Gojo didn't get it.
Rex should know he didn't stand a chance, not after downtown, but the guy was acting like he had a trick up his sleeve.
'Fine by me,' Gojo thought, shrugging it off. If Rex had a plan, he wasn't about to stop him—let him try.
He strolled toward the battle area, a reinforced room built for superhero scraps—thick walls, scuffed floors, and a massive glass window up top where the other candidates, including Mark, watched from behind. The space hummed with quiet energy, ready for a fight.
Gojo stepped in, hands in his pockets, sunglasses glinting, and faced Rex Splode standing across from him.
Rex puffed out his chest, smirking like he owned the place, and spoke up, his voice dripping with that usual Rex bravado.
"Hey, White hair, why don't we drop the fancy crap? Even though I'm awesome and all… I know I don't stand a chance against you. After everything I have seen you do on the alien attack invasion."
"Huh?! So, why are you so happy?" Gojo cocked his head, flashing a teasing grin.
"Yeah… happy huh?! Well I figured it out." Rex said, stepping forward, confidence swelling. "You. Every single time I've seen you—doesn't matter when or where—you've always got that technique of yours running. Always."
Gojo chuckled.
Gojo let out a soft whistle. "Wow. What incredible deduction skills. I'm stunned."
He gave a slow clap. "So what now, Sherlock?"
"Drop the act I already know, you are as weak as you can be without those mysterious techniques of yours and the shield."
"Huh?! Oh so this why you're so happ—" before Gojo could finish his sentence Rex cut him out.
"How about a bet?"
"Bet?!"
"Yeah! Now drop that whatever that shield thing is on you, fight me like a man. C'mon, don't be a pussy!" He grinned, taunting loud enough for the glass above to catch it, clearly trying to goad Gojo into ditching his tricks.
Gojo didn't bite—not yet. He just smiled, slow and chill, his voice sliding out smooth as ever.
"Oh, Rexy, you didn't need to taunt me or anything—I was already gonna give you a handicap. No need to beg for it." He paused, letting that sink in, then leaned forward slightly, grin stretching wide and taunting.
"Go ahead, go all out… after all, you're… well, you're weak." The last word hit like a playful jab, his eyes glinting behind the sunglasses, daring Rex to swing.
Gojo stood in the reinforced battle room, smirking at Rex as the air crackled with tension. He tilted his head, adding a condition to their little showdown.
"Alright, Rexy, here's the deal," he said, voice smooth and playful. "I won't use any of my techniques—no Infinity, no fancy tricks."
Before Rex could respond, Gojo leaned in closer, grin widening. "And don't even think about whining later to the others—'Oh, if I used my powers, I would have won.' That'd be… pathetic. So let's keep this clean, you can use all the things you have, whatever you feel like pulling out. Fair enough?" His tone dripped with mock pity, daring Rex to take the bait.
Rex's smirk twisted into a scowl, and he fired back, voice loud and brash. "You're just spouting crap now, white hair, setting it up so when you lose, you can cry, 'Oh, he used his powers!' Nice try, but whatever—I won't say no to your oh-so-generous request. Let's see you eat those words!" He cracked his knuckles, confidence oozing as he squared up.
The match kicked off fast. Rex didn't waste a second, right after his last word, he charged up the explosive discs on his waist, yanking them free with a quick slide of his hand.
With a flick of his wrist, he hurled them at Gojo, the air hissing as they spun toward him, glowing with pent-up energy. Up in the glass viewing area, the other heroes, Mark included, leaned closer, eyes locked on the action.
Gojo's Six Eyes were active, glowing orbs, with extra senses, his eyes tracked the discs like they were moving in slow motion.
He'd seen Rex's move coming a mile away, the guy's cocky wind-up screaming predictability.
As the first disc zipped toward his chest, Gojo shifted, just a slight twist of his torso, smooth and casual, and it sailed past, missing by inches. It hit the wall behind him with a loud boom, shaking the room, but Gojo didn't flinch.
The second disc came fast, aimed at his legs, same deal. He stepped aside, quick and light, like he was dodging a lazy toss in a pickup game.
The explosion rocked the floor, dust puffing up, but Gojo was already clear, standing there with that same chill grin.
Rex didn't stop, he kept chucking discs, one after another, each glowing brighter, each thrown harder. Gojo danced through them all, his reflexes razor-sharp, his speed unreal.
A disc arced high, he ducked low, letting it blast the ceiling. Another skimmed his shoulder, he leaned back, barely a hair's breadth away, and it crashed into the wall.
Every move was fluid, effortless, like he was playing tag with a kid instead of dodging live explosives. Up top, Mark's jaw tightened, Bulletproof blinked, and the crowd murmured—'how's he so fast?' Gojo's speed wasn't just good; it was monstrous, a blur of motion that didn't match his laid-back vibe.
Back in JJK, everyone feared him for the Six Eyes and Limitless, cursed users, special-grade spirits, all of them pegged him as a god because of those techniques of his.
They thought that's what made him unbeatable: the glowing eyes that saw everything, the infinity that stopped anything.
But what they didn't get, what they never saw, was that even without those, Gojo was a terror. He didn't need techniques to crush weaklings, his raw skill was enough.
His body thrummed with Cursed Energy, honed to perfection, boosting his stamina to insane levels, sharpening his reflexes to a knife's edge. His fighting style?
Flawless, smooth, brutal, adaptable. If he wanted, he could pick up any martial art and master it in a day, karate, boxing, whatever, and make it look easy.
Rex kept throwing, discs exploding in bright flashes—boom, boom, boom—but Gojo sidestepped, ducked, and weaved like it was nothing.
One sailed close to his head; he tilted just enough, letting it blast a dent in the steel wall. Another aimed low; he hopped over it, landing light as a feather as the floor shook.
To cursed spirits, he was a monster, a walking nightmare who didn't need fancy powers to break them.
To Rex? He was about to find out the hard way. Gojo's grin didn't fade, his taunt hanging in the air:
"Go all out—Rex… Go all OUT." And he meant it.
———
A/N: I didn't want to end the fight in just 1 chapter… So, I thought why not end it in 2. There maybe some characters who think if they can have gojo drop his techniques, they can deal with him efficiently… like Robot and Cecil.
Well guess what… he doesn't need techniques for weaklings.
Here is a question: I have a Madara x jjk fanfic in my folder for like a quiet a bit of time and it has over 30k words, should I Upload it? (Even though its already out in my ff.net)
1. Yes-
2. No-
Oh! And Madara in that fic is not someone else but Madara himself. Time period is when Gojo gets sealed into prison realm.