Satoru Gojo

Gojo Satoru: Hair white as snow. Often sticking out in different directions, but it's beautiful. Bright blue, light blue, or glowing blue eyes with moving clouds inside. A wildly narcissistic egoist who cannot tolerate any competition in looks; if such competition exists even in the slightest degree, he LITERALLY suffocates from rage, wanting to eliminate the person surpassing him by any means necessary, or to become better himself. In such cases, Satoru begins to humiliate the person, trying to ruin their self-esteem.

Oh my god, what kind of holy crap is this? Gojo frowned. Gojo was irritated. Gojo was throwing a tantrum, but still, like a good little boy, he went to the village after being blackmailed with his card and pocket money.

He is the dream of every brainless girl ready to become a personal doormat for this narcissistic and pompous turkey, who in his 17 years has already managed to visit the police station several times and appear in newspaper headlines and noisy articles.

"Ugh... what is that stench..." wrinkling his lovely little nose, the ash-haired guy stepped out of the car, walking across the ground carefully and with a disgusted expression on his face, frantically wiping his palms with napkins. A few steps led the rich kid to the house of Toji Fushiguro, an acquaintance of his father, where he would be staying for a couple of months until his recent loud scandal died down. "God... I hope he doesn't have any offspring..." Satoru grumbled and stepped onto the threshold of the rural house. Welcome to hell, Gojo Satoru. Then, he knocked on the door.