It's been about a day since I hugged Toji—I might as well just call him "Big Brother" now.
After doing some digging, I've confirmed the situation: I'm currently at the Zenin estate, and I'm nothing more than a background character with zero claim to the headship. My cursed energy levels are slightly above average, but I have no innate technique. I'm just a run-of-the-mill sorcerer—or, in Zenin terms, a "failure."
But I didn't let that bother me. I spent the day pestering my new big brother and generally making a nuisance of myself. Looking back, I have to say… good job, me.
Currently, I'm at the training grounds—a place of "ancient tradition" where the Zenin clan has raised its sorcerers for generations. I was busy throwing myself into a grueling physical workout. Push-ups, sit-ups, wooden sword swings… I ignored cursed energy efficiency entirely and focused purely on raw strength.
The people watching me had cold, mocking eyes. Well, this is a place where they openly say, "If you aren't a sorcerer, you aren't a human." They probably look at a "failure" with no technique and think I'm just wasting my time.
Shut up. If you have time to look down on others, spend that second training and growing your own power. In the jujutsu world, people with your elitist attitudes are always the first to die.
Except for Satoru Gojo and Sukuna… seriously, what is with those two? They're way too strong.
"Hey, kid."
Man, the Zenin clan has really gone soft. Back in the Heian era, there were plenty of sorcerers who could match a Grade 1 rank. Now? Even the best of them are just "trashy old man" tier.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!"
I won't say the current era is bad, but it feels… lacking. Maybe it's because back in my day, people on Kento Nanami's level were a dime a dozen. The disparity is jarring.
I continued my one-handed push-ups, ignoring the voice and the glares as I drifted back into my memories. I wonder if my little brother did okay after I died? He was a cute kid. When he was little, he'd follow me around calling me "Dear Brother," and when he grew up, he turned into a mountain of a man who still followed me everywhere… damn, the sense of loss is hitting me now.
Honestly, he was such a good guy that it was hard to believe he was a Zenin. He was a saint who shared the same technique as those trashy elders—I might as well have called him the Rengoku of the jujutsu world.
"Don't ignore me, you piece of trash!"
"Huh?"
The voice was sudden, but I reacted to the prickle of bloodlust against my skin before I even processed the words. I turned my head just as a leg came flying toward my face. Looking at my attacker, I saw a blonde kid who looked vaguely familiar.
(Ah, crap…)
Let me take a moment to explain why I was training so hard. Simply put: I needed to test the limits of this new body. The jujutsu world is a nightmare. If you let your guard down, you get your head lopped off. Even if you don't let your guard down, you might get your heart pierced from behind by someone you thought was an ally.
In a world made of pure, refined malice, there is nothing more dangerous than not knowing your own capabilities. So, I was training to find my "floor."
I had just concluded that my physical stats were roughly the same as they were in my previous childhood, but there was one glaring issue. I had been fighting Sukuna right before I died.
Do you understand the problem? Until the very moment of my death, I was trading blows (and getting trashed) by the absolute pinnacle of the jujutsu world. A person like that doesn't just "switch off" their combat instincts after one day of being pampered by their idol.
Basically… I don't know how to hold back, even against a weakling.
Secret Art: Falling Blossom Emotion.
It's an anti-Domain technique that uses cursed energy to automatically counter anything it touches. Just like a certain trashy old man would eventually do, I used it as a manual counter-mechanism. Essentially, it's a system that automatically intercepts any cursed energy-imbued attack that enters my range.
I caught the incoming leg between my elbow and knee the moment it entered my space. Using the attacker's own momentum, I snapped the bone.
CRACK.
"Gah—!"
The attacker's concentration shattered from the shock. Without hesitating, I hammered a fist wrapped in cursed energy into his solar plexus.
In that instant, the cursed energy flashed black.
Black Flash.
My perception accelerated. A surge of euphoria and omnipotence raced through my veins. While still caught in that "zone," my fist buried itself deep into his gut and sent him flying. He smashed through the training hall wall, skipped across a small pond like a stone, and ended up embedded in the outer wall of the main estate.
Total elapsed time: less than four seconds.
.........… Ah. Crap. I overdid it.
The area erupted into chaos. It makes sense. The Zenin clan of this era—a group that doesn't yet know the true terror of my "Big Brother"—would never expect a "failure" with no technique to pull off something like that. The whispering grew louder and louder, like a swarm of cicadas.
"You brat!"
Suddenly, another one lunged at me. Wait… why?
It was an adult—well, maybe a teenager—but he was twice my size. He swung a cursed energy-laden fist at me. I didn't even feel like using Falling Blossom Emotion this time. I simply slipped past his strike, stepped into his guard, and—
"Hup."
With a short grunt, I delivered a cursed energy-infused kick directly to his crotch.
There was a sickening squish as something vital shattered. The man's eyes rolled back, foam bubbled at his mouth, and he collapsed onto his back, out cold.
"...Ah. Crap. Again."
My voice echoed through the now-silent training hall. A second later, every single sorcerer in the vicinity began closing in on me. Ten, twenty… maybe thirty men. As they swarmed toward me, my eyes went dead.
Great. My fight with Sukuna has left me with the worst possible side effect.
Despite my internal whining, my body took a relaxed stance, ready to dismantle the trash in front of me. It was as if my muscles were saying this was a perfect warm-up. And honestly? I felt the same way.
Secret Art: Falling Blossom Emotion.
Now… how should I handle this?
+++
A short while later, I was sitting on top of a pile of groaning sorcerers. My wrists were slick with blood, and my legs were sticky and disgusting. I felt heavy from the sheer amount of gore coating my body. My hair was matted and gritty.
I didn't have a scratch on me. I can use Reverse Cursed Technique, but I didn't even need it.
Fighting them made me realize one thing: the Zenin sorcerers have really become weak. They weren't like this in the old days. Maybe the Heian era was just full of monsters.
As I was lost in thought, I heard footsteps behind me.
"Well, you certainly made a mess of things."
I turned around to see an old man in traditional Japanese clothing. He had a dapper mustache that curled at the ends and white-streaked hair swept back in a sophisticated style. He had a powerful, commanding presence.
Ah, I recognized him immediately. He had such a distinct personality that I couldn't forget him even if I tried. That's right, he was…
"The Zenin Frame Rate Uncle."
"Wait a minute. Who are you calling 'Frame Rate Uncle'?"
Oops. My bad. I meant Naobito Zenin.
I remembered he was the 26th Head of the clan. I think he's Toji's father… or was it his uncle? My memory of the family tree is a bit fuzzy because the Heian era was so much more intense.
As I mentally cycled through excuses, Naobito snorted and walked toward me, completely ignoring the broken sorcerers littering the ground. He stepped on them if they were in his way and kicked them aside if he couldn't step over them. Yep, classic Zenin behavior.
He stood before me, looking me up and down as if he were appraising a piece of meat.
"You—"
"Hey, old man," I interrupted, speaking without a shred of respect.
I knew it was rude, but there was something I absolutely had to ask this man.
"What is it, brat?"
"Don't you think the modern obsession with increasing frame rates and resolution is just… tacky?"
Naobito paused. Then, a slow smirk spread across his face.
"I hear you."
In that moment, we were both wearing identical, wide-eyed grins.