Gojo stood in the center of the reinforced battle room, hands in his pockets, sunglasses catching the dim light as he looked down at Rex Splode.
Blood dripped from Rex's nose and mouth, staining the floor, his broken arm cradled awkwardly against his chest.
His breaths came in ragged gasps, eyes half-lidded, still reeling from the roundhouse kick that had sent him crashing into the wall.
The crowd behind the glass—Mark, Bulletproof, and the other tryout hopefuls—stared in stunned silence, the air heavy with the aftermath of Gojo's beatdown.
The door hissed open, and Robot strode in, his metal frame clanking softly, followed by a handful of GDA medics rushing toward Rex.
They knelt beside him, checking his pulse, shining lights in his eyes, muttering about fractures and concussions.
One pressed a cloth to his bleeding nose, another braced his shattered arm, their faces grim. It didn't look good—Rex's skin was pale, bruises blooming fast, blood smearing his chin as he coughed weakly.
The medics worked quickly, prepping a stretcher, while Robot turned to Gojo, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. "You didn't need to go this far, Gojo," he said, voice calm but firm, carrying a rare edge. "This was a tryout, not a deathmatch."
Gojo tilted his head, a faint chuckle slipping out as he adjusted his sunglasses with one finger. "Sorry, Robot—guess I got a bit excited," he said, voice light, almost playful.
"Honestly? I thought he was tougher than that. Figured he'd take a few hits better." He shrugged, glancing at Rex as the medics lifted him onto the stretcher.
"But, y'know, GDA's got that fancy medical facility right here. He'll be fine—no problem, right?" His grin was casual, like he'd just spilled a drink, not broken a guy's arm and bloodied his face.
The medics hustled Rex out, one calling for a trauma kit as the door slid shut behind them. Gojo turned back to Robot, hands still in his pockets, and raised an eyebrow.
"So, what's the deal? Am I on the team or what?" he asked, smirking like it was a formality, even though he'd been part of the Guardians' orbit already.
Robot's head tilted, his tone matter-of-fact, cutting through Gojo's theatrics. "You were already in the team, Gojo, but for professionalism, participation in the tryouts was required." He paused, then straightened, his voice carrying a hint of ceremony.
"Your performance—while excessive—demonstrates your capability. You are now an official member of the Guardians of the Globe even though there are tons of left. But… Welcome, Gojo Satoru."
Gojo's smirk stretched into a full grin, and he stepped forward, giving Robot's metal shoulder a light pat, the clang echoing faintly.
"Good to be on your team, Robot," he said, voice warm but with that playful edge, like he was already planning his next move. "Believe me it's gonna be so much fun, yeah?" Robot didn't react, just nodded once, his glowing eyes steady as ever.
….
The GDA facility hummed with energy as the tryouts for the new Guardians of the Globe rolled on.
The reinforced battle room, still scuffed from Gojo's battle with Rex, echoed with the sounds of punches, electricity, and the occasional blast as other hopefuls took their turns.
The medics had hauled Rex out minutes ago, his bloody face and broken arm a grim reminder of Gojo's work.
Up in the glass viewing area, the crowd—heroes in bright costumes and patched-up gear—watched each match, murmuring about who'd make the cut. Atom Eve slipped in quietly during one of the fights, her pink jacket catching the light.
She'd turned down Robot's offer to join the Guardians days ago—still raw from Rex and Dupli-Kate's betrayal—but she was here now, leaning against the railing, eyes flicking between the fighters below. Maybe she'd come to see, maybe just to clear her head.
Gojo, back among the tryout crowd, lounged against a wall, sunglasses glinting as he watched a beefy hero trade blows with a speedster in the arena.
His fight was done, his spot on the team locked, and he looked as relaxed as if he'd just grabbed a coffee, not flattened a guy.
Mark—Invincible—spotted him and jogged over, waving a hand with a nervous grin. "Hey, Gojo!" he called, stopping a few feet away, his yellow-blue-black suit a bit scuffed from whatever he'd been up to earlier.
"Man, that was… awesome down there, but, uh, you didn't have to go that far with Rex, y'know? He's gonna be sore for a while."
Gojo chuckled, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. "Yeah, guess I got a little carried away," he said, his voice light and easy, a smirk tugging at his lips. He pushed off the wall, stepping closer to slap a hand on Mark's shoulder, friendly but firm.
"But c'mon, Invincible—why aren't you down there throwing punches? You and me, we'd make a killer duo. I could show you a few tricks, teach you how to deal with messy villains really easily." His grin widened, eyes glinting behind the sunglasses, half-joking.
Mark laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, his face a mix of awkward and genuine. "Nah, I told Robot the same thing—school's kicking my butt, homework's piling up, and I've got… y'know, other stuff going on." He glanced around, then leaned in, dropping his voice to a mutter.
"Plus, my mom would probably kill me if she heard I was signing up for something this big right now." He straightened up, a sheepish grin spreading as he added, "Oh, by the way—I told her about you. Y'know, the guy who saved me from crashing that one night? She said you should come over for dinner sometime, if you've got time."
Gojo's smirk softened into something warmer, though the playful edge didn't fade. "Dinner, huh? Your mom sounds really reasonable—might just take her up on that," he said, giving Mark's shoulder a light shake before letting go.
"But seriously, school? Homework? You're dodging the big leagues for that? C'mon, you're built for this." He was teasing, but there was a nudge in his tone, like he saw more in Mark than the kid was letting on.
Mark just shook his head, laughing again, but his eyes flicked to the battle room, where a new pair of heroes—a guy with glowing fists and a woman with stretchy arms—were duking it out.
"Yeah, maybe one day," he said, noncommittal, then nodded toward the fight. "Who do you think will get selected in this?"
Gojo followed his gaze, scanning the arena with a lazy grin. "Some might be," he said, shrugging. "Hmmm… Bulletproof's—he's tough,. Others? Eh, depends if they can keep up." He glanced back at Mark, catching Eve watching from above, her face unreadable.
'She's here, but not in it,' he thought, filing that away. Rex's mess had hit her hard, and Gojo could guess why she'd passed on the team—too much baggage with her ex and Dupli-Kate.
Down below, the glowing-fist guy landed a solid hit, sending the stretchy woman skidding, and the crowd cheered faintly.
Gojo leaned closer to Mark, voice dropping. "Are you really sure about this?! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for some people." He was pushing, but gently, testing Mark's resolve.
Mark sighed, scratching his head. "I'm good for now, really. Gotta figure out… y'know, and I don't really think I'm fit for this," He smiled, a bit tired but real. "But I'll cheer you on—new Guardian and all."
Gojo chuckled, stepping back. "Fair enough, kid. I'll hold you to that dinner invite, though." He turned his attention back to the tryouts, smirking as another match kicked off, already sizing up the competition.
….
A/N: I deleted the previois chapter and rewrite it whole, it was bad. So here is the rewritten one. Enjoy and comment how was it.
Bii ✌️