In the afternoon, Minamoto Soujun finished his martial arts practice at home.
These days he rarely went to the training hall, only visiting when learning a new fighting style. Most of the time, he trained alone.
A master leads you to the door, but cultivation depends on yourself.
He had already stepped through that door. He could now correct mistakes in his movements on his own, and with the help of his innate technique, his progress was both steady and fast.
At that moment—
He had just ended his daily routine and was bent over his desk, writing furiously, recording insights from his practice.
His hands occasionally clenched as if gripping something, or his calves twitched as he carefully tried to feel out sensations.
His innate technique made his learning and training twice as effective. His notebook was already filled with dozens of pages.
Knock knock knock!
The sudden knocking broke the silence.
"Auntie!"
Soujun called out, but no answer came.
Only then did he realize the nanny was not around. She lived nearby and usually only came by at mealtimes.
Knock knock knock!
The knocking came again.
Soujun got up and went to the door.
He opened it to the limit of the security chain, and his view was immediately blocked by the figure of a massive man standing outside.
The man was tall and powerfully built. His bare arms bulged with muscles that twitched now and then.
He had a crew cut and a fierce face, like a mafia boss.
Something about him felt familiar. Soujun fell into thought.
Yet the man's demeanor was gentle, completely at odds with his looks. He did not rush or pressure him, simply waited until Soujun looked up and met his gaze, then asked softly, "Kid, are you Minamoto Soujun?"
Soujun nodded.
The man softened his tone further, crouching down. "I'm your mother's younger brother. That makes me your uncle. Can I come in?"
Soujun thought it strange. Using the most intimidating appearance to say the gentlest words?
I'm your parents' friend, open the door. Classic scam line.
He suddenly remembered the man's identity. Still, he wasn't happy with being called "kid." So he gestured for the man to lean closer. The man obediently did so. Soujun leaned in like he was about to whisper and asked quietly:
"In this world, what is more twisted than a curse?"
The man froze. "It… it's humans?"
"Wrong answer."
Soujun smiled sweetly and started to shut the door.
The man realized something and straightened up, dropping the patronizing attitude.
He pulled out his phone, dialed a number, then handed the device toward Soujun. A familiar female voice came through: "Son, that's your uncle. Don't be afraid. You can go to him if anything happens."
Beep—
The call ended quickly. Both were used to it. One silently opened the door, the other silently put away his phone.
"Ahem." The man cleared his throat. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Yaga Masamichi, Yuri's younger brother. You can call me Uncle, or just by name."
"Hello, Uncle." Soujun answered politely.
"As I thought, Yuri didn't give you any heads-up, did she?" Yaga said with a grin.
Soujun remained silent.
He was still a bit dazed at Yaga Masamichi's appearance, unaware of this family connection, and had no idea why he had suddenly shown up.
Expecting his parents to inform him beforehand? Laughable.
"Yuri told me you awakened your innate technique, so she asked me to watch over you and give you some guidance," Yaga explained.
After Yaga sat down, Soujun absentmindedly pulled a pen from his pocket, held it by the cap, and handed it to him.
Puzzled, Yaga took it.
Soujun leaned closer, produced a lighter with his other hand, shielding the flame with a practiced gesture, about to light the pen tip before suddenly snapping back to reality.
He quickly sat upright, folded his hands neatly on his thighs, and said with perfect obedience, "Thank you, Uncle."
Though his earlier mannerisms were those of a jaded old hustler, his still-youthful face made Yaga overlook it, assuming some unreliable man had rubbed off on him.
Yaga looked at Soujun. "You should be ten this year, right?"
When Soujun nodded, he continued, "Your appearance doesn't differ much from your age anymore. That means your technique has stabilized."
"In your family, the inherited techniques are either body control or soul control. Of course, there's always the possibility of inheriting the Yaga clan's puppet manipulation."
Yaga studied him. "It's obvious yours is body control, isn't it?"
He went on, "From an early age your growth was abnormal. Even after your awakening slowed it down, the traces are still clear. From your muscle development, shape, distribution, and your movement habits, everything shows significant physical power. You've been training in martial arts, right? Speed, strength, explosiveness—in just three or four years, only with a body-control technique could you reach this level."
Soujun nodded again. Correct analysis.
He raised a hand. "Question. Is it possible to control both the soul and the body at the same time?"
"Impossible," Yaga replied without hesitation. "The jujutsu world is governed by balance. Soul and body may seem different, but in fact, they strongly affect and depend on each other. Every person has weaknesses, every curse technique has counters. Sorcery targets either the body or the soul, influencing the other as a result. To control both would mean perfection. And perfection does not exist."
Soujun fell silent in thought. Because he could not only control body and soul, but cursed energy too.
He actually agreed with Yaga's words. He had sensed this balance before. It was strict, powerful, unshakable.
But he was an exception.
Yaga could never imagine it—
Soujun was a visitor from another world. He had not originally been part of this balance. That allowed his technique to awaken and grant him perfect control.
But as his presence in this world grew stronger, the balancing mechanism had begun to cover him. His slowed development was proof of that.
Soujun should have been anxious, but instead he felt excited. His plan was already orderly, quick but stable, balanced between speed and caution.
He smiled at the thought. Using balance to counterbalance. He was walking the right path.
There was also something important: cursed energy.
Which side did cursed energy belong to?
To him, or to the balance? Soujun wasn't sure yet. But at least his cursed energy was entirely his own, perfectly under his control.
If the balance mechanism eventually encompassed him, the breakthrough point might be cursed energy.
There were traces pointing to that. Born from curses, returning to curses.
"Alright," Yaga suddenly said, sitting straighter, his expression solemn as he fixed his gaze on Soujun. "Before you begin formal training, answer me one question.
Sorcerers walk with death. Not only their own, but also the deaths of those ravaged by curses, and the times when they must tear apart cursed flesh themselves.
This path is not easy. It requires a certain degree of madness and a reason to persist. So tell me—what is your reason for becoming a sorcerer?"
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