"Your talent is impressive. Want to become my student?"
???
"Teacher!"
Soujun smoothly changed the form of address, though it reminded him of his very first coach.
Becoming Yaga Masamichi's student was an excellent choice.
In the jujutsu world, sorcerers and curses are classified into grades: Special, 1, 2, 3, 4. Special is the strongest, and each step down is weaker.
If ordinary weapons worked against curses, the comparison would look like this:
Special grade: you would need a carpet bombing with cluster bombs.
Grade 1: even tanks would not bring reassurance.
Grade 2: shotguns could just barely manage.
Grade 3: handguns would be sufficient.
Grade 4: a wooden bat would do.
The fly-head floating above Soujun's head was not even grade 4. It counted as non-grade, weaker than the lowest standard, utterly harmless.
Sorcerers were rated by the same scale, though a sorcerer of a given grade was stronger than a curse of that same grade.
Special grade sorcerers were a different matter entirely. One of the criteria for special grade: possessing destructive strength sufficient to destroy a nation single-handedly.
And Yaga Masamichi?
He was not yet a school principal, nor did he wear sunglasses, nor was there a stuffed panda at his side.
But later—up until the very latest manga chapters Soujun remembered—
Among the four special grade sorcerers, in a world where most capped out at grade 2 or quasi-grade 1, Yaga nearly became the fifth special grade.
He only refused the promotion for certain reasons. His power, however, was undeniably at the pinnacle of the jujutsu world.
His connections ran deep. Of the four special grades, two were his students, one was his student's student, and the last was his junior who had a friendly relationship with him.
Most importantly, he was Mrs. Minamoto's younger brother, Soujun's uncle.
So Soujun agreed readily. Having a heavyweight guide him would make his path much smoother.
"Good!" Yaga was clearly pleased. He stood, glanced around, then walked to a clear space in the living room and stopped. "You've already mastered refining cursed energy. Next is developing your technique."
He raised his hand. Cursed energy flowed and wrapped around his palm like water. His palm faced Soujun. "Come. Throw a punch here."
Soujun stepped up without hesitation. He drew his arm back and struck.
Bang!
A sharp crack echoed.
It was cursed energy. Soujun had used it in his punch.
At the same time, Yaga increased the cursed energy output in his palm. Their strike collided and then held still, locked in place.
Soujun drew back. His cursed energy had matched the amount on Yaga's palm, but he had added physical strength as well. Yaga had noticed easily and blocked it without trouble.
This was the composure and confidence of a veteran sorcerer.
Yaga withdrew his hand as well. Without a word, he rummaged in his pocket and produced… a small teddy bear?
He infused it with cursed energy and dropped it on the floor.
The doll stood on its own and began moving its arms and legs.
Yaga pointed at it. "Try again."
"Try wha—"
Boom!
The doll lunged with a headbutt. Soujun quickly crossed his arms to block, bent his knees to sink his weight, leaned forward to brace, and dug his toes into the floor.
All at once he did everything he could to stay upright.
Still, he slid back a small step.
The doll bounced off his arms with surprising agility, landed lightly, and only hopped in place without following up.
Hiss.
"Understand now?" Yaga caught the doll as it jumped back to him and stroked its head. "I used the same amount of cursed energy as before, but the difference in power is incomparable."
Impossible. Soujun rolled his eyes inside. The cursed energy was clearly more this time. That was what made it incomparable.
Outwardly, he put on admiration. "Amazing. How did you do that?"
Yaga glanced at him, chuckled, and folded his hands behind his back. His tone was steady.
"If cursed energy is electricity, then a technique is an appliance. You can't just use raw electricity. You need to channel it into an appliance to produce effects. Cursed energy has its own force, but only through a technique can you fully bring out its potential."
He handed the doll to Soujun. "My technique is puppet manipulation. I can make cursed dolls—cursed corpses. Each has a core like a heart. The more cursed energy it holds, the stronger it becomes. The core is its source of power, and also its weakness."
"Take a look."
Soujun accepted it. The doll squirmed in his grasp. At its ankle, he sensed a faint blue glow. He gave Yaga a strange look.
"A weak point is safest in an unexpected place," Yaga said calmly.
Soujun pressed on the ankle. There was no physical bump.
The doll struggled a few more times before going limp as if drained of power. The blue glow faded from his perception.
It was self-moving, but clearly not a living creature. It had no intelligence.
From the word "puppet," it should be able to follow simple commands, or else Yaga could manipulate it directly for complex actions.
Its power was undeniable.
Even though Yaga had reinforced it, Soujun could easily see the truth. Equal cursed energy, when used for raw attack or defense, was far weaker than when used through a technique.
So what about his own technique?
Soujun opened his hand. Cursed energy surged, and the skin of his palm wrinkled, folding, stretching, until it split open into a narrow slit. The sides peeled back to reveal a black pupil.
His vision instantly changed.
The eye in his palm swiveled, giving him a new upward view. In that extra vision he saw a burly man and a child.
Soujun thought deeply. Then in the soul body's right palm, something began to stir. The skin trembled as if another eye would open.
He quickly diverted focus to stabilize the soul's original form, forbidding it from changing.
Soon the eye in his physical palm closed and vanished, restoring his hand.
Hoo. Success.
Soujun had always had the ability to alter his body, but he had refrained from major changes. The ability to alter was not impressive. The ability to restore was.
Perfect control gave him vast authority, almost more than he could handle.
He had countless ideas but kept them suppressed. If he turned himself into a grotesque monster, there would be no undoing it.
With his growing knowledge, he had gained some confidence, though not enough. With Yaga present, he dared to try. And he succeeded in one move.
The eye had complex structures: blood supply, nerve connections, and all the anatomy needed. Yet he had built it and made it functional.
This marked a new stage. His soul would anchor him, while his body could change freely. That was his new goal.
Yaga left afterward. He had taught plenty for one day. Soujun would need time to digest it.
Yaga was busy. Making time once a week was no small thing.
He did not ask about the eye. He did not ask about the fly-head.
Technique development was personal. Secrecy was vital. He could give advice, but would not pry too deeply.
Providing a safe space to grow was enough. The rest had to be done alone.
From the moment one chose to be a sorcerer, one chose to walk with death.
Adapting to that sooner or later was inevitable. That was the true theme of the jujutsu world.
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