In the tea room, white incense smoke rose in the morning light.
Genji lay on his side on the straw mat–covered floor, one hand propping up his head, the other casually resting on his bent knee. The hem of his indigo hunting robe was spread out, glowing softly in the morning light.
He had his eyes closed, as if pretending to sleep, but his lips occasionally moved slightly, silently calculating something.
Three steps away, facing him, Zen'in Sei sat upright.
The younger brother was dressed in a dark blue everyday outfit today, a dark leather belt at his waist, his hair simply tied up with a strip of cloth. Unlike his brother's lazy and casual posture, he sat straight, his back as straight as a blade, his hands resting calmly on his knees, his knuckles calloused from years of gripping a blade.
The tea room was quiet. From the courtyard outside came only the rhythmic click-clack of a bamboo water hammer striking stone, steady as a heartbeat.
"Brother," Sei spoke, his voice smooth and low, like water in a deep pool.
"Mm?" Genji replied lazily, not opening his eyes.
"The jujutsu world has been restless lately," Sei said, his tone like reporting the weather. "The number of cursed spirit attacks reported in various places has increased by 30% compared to last month. Grade 1 cursed spirits appeared seven times, and Grade 2 cursed spirits over fifty times. Although the 'garrison' composed of non-innate-technique sorcerers has been dispatched, the casualty rate… is not low."
Genji slowly opened his eyes.
Those deep indigo eyes were crystal clear in the morning light, reflecting the simple wooden structure of the tea room and his younger brother's serious face.
"Those sorcerers," he asked, his voice devoid of emotion, "how is their training progressing?"
"Five hundred have reached the combat strength of a Grade 3 sorcerer," Sei answered, taking a thin bamboo scroll from his sleeve and unrolling it. "One hundred and twenty of them have mastered more than two attribute variations of techniques. Thirty can independently handle Grade 2 cursed spirits. By your standards, they already have the right to be called 'sorcerers.'"
"Five hundred…" Genji repeated the number, the corners of his lips lifting in a very faint arc. "Faster than I thought. It seems they studied those basic textbooks very carefully."
"The textbooks brother left are so detailed, with illustrations and notes for every step. If you're not an idiot, you can make a fireball with three months of practice," Sei's voice carried a rare hint of mockery. "But actual combat is a different matter. Last month in Izumo, a ten-person team encountered a Grade 2 cursed spirit, the 'Bone Girl.' Although the exorcism was successful, three people died and two were seriously injured."
"The Bone Girl…" Genji thought for a moment. "That type of cursed spirit, which is good at mental attacks, is indeed difficult for beginners. When revising the textbook next time, add a chapter on 'Countermeasures for Mental Jujutsu.'"
"It's already being written," Sei said. "As for Grade 1 cursed spirits and special grades… no sorcerer can handle them yet. Of the seven Grade 1 cursed spirits that appeared in the past three months, I handled five myself. Of the remaining two, one was handled by the Kamo clan with their 'Red Blood Manipulation,' and the other… escaped into the mountains and is currently missing."
Genji sat up. This simple action made the air in the tea room freeze for a moment. The dust in the morning light stopped moving. The sound of the bamboo water hammer striking stone disappeared.
"What about special grades?" He asked.
"No new special-grade cursed spirits," Sei answered. "But the activity frequency of the few existing ones has increased significantly. The residual cursed energy of Yamata no Orochi has appeared in Omi three times. The domain fluctuations of the 'Sake-Swilling Boy' have been detected twice in Tanba. It seems they are testing something."
"They're testing me," Genji said calmly. "I've been adjusting the barrier's absorption parameters recently. They detected the change in the flow of cursed energy. Those old beings who have lived for a thousand years have very keen noses."
He paused and added, "But don't worry. As long as I don't leave Kyoto, they won't dare to act rashly. Although special-grade cursed spirits are strong, they cherish their lives very much. They know that provoking me means death."
There was no objection to this conclusion. In front of his brother, the difference between a special-grade cursed spirit and a Grade 2 one was probably "needs a few more techniques" versus "instant kill."
Silence fell over the tea room again. The bamboo water hammer struck stone once, suddenly.
After a long time, Sei spoke again, his voice lower than before:
"Brother, there's one more thing."
"Say it."
"That group of curse masters…" Sei hesitated, as if choosing his words. "They haven't given up. They secretly contacted Sukuna, hoping he could deal with you."
Genji raised an eyebrow.
Then he laughed. The laugh was faint, but a glint of amusement flickered in his eyes.
"I suppose," he said, "that Sukuna cut them all to pieces?"
"Yes," the corners of Sei's lips also lifted in a very faint arc. "According to the intelligence from the 'crows,' after hearing those people's requests, Sukuna was silent for three breaths. Then his four arms moved simultaneously. Thirty-seven curse masters, including three Grade 1 sorcerers, were sliced to pieces in an instant. Only a bloody foam remained at the scene. And Sukuna's words—"
He paused, then imitated that overlapped, low voice:
"'Trash like you, dare to ask me to deal with Zen'in Genji?'"
Genji laughed out loud. The laughter was especially clear in the quiet tea room, carrying a certain joy of playing chess with a worthy opponent.
"That's really his style," he said. "Arrogant, straightforward, leaving no room."
"Nevertheless," Sei's expression became serious, "Sukuna himself is also an unstable factor. He's been active in Kanto recently, destroying three villages and killing a Grade 1 sorcerer. Does he need… to be dealt with?"
"Dealt with?" Genji tilted his head, as if seriously considering the question. "You mean, kill him?"
"If brother wishes," Sei said. "Although it's difficult, it's not impossible. The probability of brother winning exceeds 10%, but if he wants to escape, the probability of him getting away is less than 50%."
"Fifty percent…" Genji repeated the number, then shook his head. "Too low. And not necessary."
He lay down again, hands behind his head, looking at the modest ceiling of the tea room.
"That Sukuna guy is crazy, but he's crazy in a fun way. He's the only opponent in this world who can make me take things a little seriously. If I kill him, I'll be bored."
"But he kills innocent people indiscriminately—"
"That's why I need to establish rules," Genji interrupted his younger brother, his voice calm but undeniable. "Sorcerers must not harm ordinary people without reason; violators will be killed. This rule also applies to Sukuna. If he kills a sorcerer, I don't care. If he kills a curse master, I applaud. But if he dares to attack ordinary people…"
He paused, and a cold light flickered in his deep indigo eyes.
"I'll go 'talk' to him. Once, twice, three times… until he remembers the rules."
Sei was silent. He knew his brother and understood that these words were not a joke.
If Sukuna really crossed the line, his brother would indeed go "talk" to him.
"But for now," Genji changed the subject, his tone becoming relaxed, "he's still safe. At least, he hasn't killed anyone right under my nose. So let him be. Let him play on his own."
Typical Zen'in Genji logic—as long as something doesn't cross the line he draws, no matter how crazy the beast, it can be kept for entertainment.
Sei smiled and didn't insist. In front of his brother, all sorcerers, curse masters, and even special-grade cursed spirits were merely "mortal"—not worth too much attention.
His brother's gaze was always elsewhere.
Silence fell over the tea room again. The morning light shifted slightly, shining diagonally through the paper door, leaving warm patches on the straw mat.
Genji suddenly sat up.
"By the way, Sei," he said in a casual tone, as if asking, "What's for dinner tonight?" "Are you free lately?"
"Does brother have something to order?"
"Mm," Genji extended his right hand, palm down. Shadows spread from his palm like living ink, rapidly expanding, swirling, and condensing on the tea room floor…
A figure slowly rose from the shadows.
A headless body, with four eyes on its chest and back. A tail attached to the back of its head. A sword of extermination in its right hand. And a rudder-like adaptation wheel attached to its head and back.
Mahoraga.
The tenth shikigami, fully subjugated by Zen'in Genji. The pinnacle of the Ten Shadows Technique, possessing the absolute power to "adapt" to all techniques and overturn all rules.
"Take it for a spin," Genji said, patting Mahoraga—the movement as casual as petting a large dog. "Bring back a few of the special-grade cursed spirits that have been active lately. Remember, cripple them. Don't kill them. As long as they don't die, they won't disappear. I need them for research."
Sei looked at Mahoraga before him.
He was already familiar with this shikigami. At sixteen, he had worked with his brother to subjugate it, watching it transform from a raging monster into an obedient weapon. Three years had passed. Mahoraga had experienced countless battles in his brother's hands, adapting to thousands of different techniques. The "adaptive intelligence" accumulated within its body had become unimaginably vast.
The Mahoraga of today was no longer the "blank slate" it had been when first subjugated.
Combined with the "Sword of Extermination," which attacks cursed spirits…
Sei assessed it. With Mahoraga's current strength, dealing with those special-grade cursed spirits, the result would probably be—
"The slightly weaker ones," he said honestly, "I'm afraid I'll have to hold back to avoid killing them on the spot."
Genji smiled.
"Then hold back," he said. "I want them alive, at least 'half-alive.' I've been encountering some bottlenecks in adjusting the barrier recently. I need to study the cursed energy structure of special-grade cursed spirits to see if I can optimize the absorption efficiency."
"Understood," Sei stood up and walked to Mahoraga. The massive shikigami lowered its head, its dark purple eyes "looking" at him. Although it had no expression, its posture was submissive.
"Where should I go first?" Sei asked.
"Omi. Yamata no Orochi," Genji lay down again and closed his eyes. "That guy has lived for nearly a thousand years. Its cursed technique structure should be very stable. When you cripple it and bring it back, don't forget to bring all eight heads. If one is missing, the research data will be incomplete."
"Yes."
Sei asked no more questions. He reached out and placed his hand on Mahoraga's armor. Shadows spread from the shikigami's feet and quickly enveloped it. In the next second, only Genji remained in the tea room.
The sound of the bamboo water hammer striking stone continued. Once. Down.
Genji closed his eyes, but a faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
He remembered the "Sorcerer Garrison" Sei had just mentioned. Five hundred people, Grade 3 combat strength—they could already form a basic defense network in various places. Although still immature, and people would die, at least… there was a beginning.
He remembered the textbooks he had left behind. From the most basic perception of cursed energy, to the fundamentals of acquired hand seals, to the introductory principles of barriers… every page was written in detail, for fear that future generations wouldn't understand.
He remembered that era. Chaos. Blood. The strong preying on the weak. Ordinary people harvested like grass.
But because of that, someone had to stand up, draw a line, establish rules, and give those willing to protect others at least a little power to protect themselves.
"This really is…" Genji whispered to himself, his voice echoing in the empty tea room, "hard work."
But he didn't regret it.
Outside the window, the morning light grew brighter and brighter. Kyoto awakened from its slumber. The streets filled with the sounds of people, carriages, horses, and merchants. This thousand-year-old ancient capital, at the dawn of the Heian period, slowly began a new day.
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