"Gumo, Large Tonkatsu Set for Table Three!"
"Coming, coming! Here is your Tonkatsu Set. Please enjoy!"
Hasegumo gave the table a quick, practiced swipe with a rag before setting the tray down. He stole a glance at the customer—a powerfully built man with three long scars running down the left side of his nose. He looked like a man who had lived through a hell of a story.
Turning back to the kitchen, Hasegumo tidied up his station and bagged the sorted trash.
He looked over at the shop owner, Gen Abe. "That should be the last customer for today, right? Business was as booming as ever."
"Good work, Gumo-kun. Take the leftover pork cutlets with you, pack up, and head home."
Hasegumo packed the three remaining portions, stepped out of the shop, and began his evening jog home.
"See you tomorrow!"
Two years had passed since Hasegumo had awakened his Cursed Energy and moved to Kyoto. The cost of living here was higher than he'd anticipated, especially food. After cycling through several jobs, he had eventually settled on this popular tonkatsu shop. The pay was above average and, crucially, it came with free meals. Because Hasegumo was a diligent and enthusiastic worker, the manager adored him, often letting him take home unsold sets at the end of the shift.
For the past two years, Hasegumo's life had followed a strict rhythm. He woke at 6:30 AM to walk Hachi, followed by an hour of the "Saitama Workout." After a half-hour shower, he would jog to the shop to start work. He finished at 4:30 PM, picked up some groceries on the way, jogged home, ate, and took Hachi out again.
Occasionally, he encountered Curses. Before every fight, he would religiously perform his "Revealing One's Hand" ritual before exorcising them with a single punch. Before bed, he'd soak his feet and do twenty minutes of calisthenics. He slept like a baby until morning—his doctor even commented that his health was impeccable.
However, during his jog today, he heard the sounds of a struggle coming from an alleyway, accompanied by strong Cursed Energy fluctuations.
Hasegumo was a naturally helpful person. He took joy in assisting those in danger as a way of showing his gratitude to this world.
I have to save them, he thought, placing his tonkatsu sets carefully at the corner of the alley entrance.
Suppressing his Cursed Energy, he peeked around the corner. It was his last customer from the shop—the scarred man was unmistakable. He was locked in combat with a humanoid Curse. The Curse looked tattered, with a twisted mouth and drool leaking from its lips. It looked incredibly dim-witted—practically a living rendition of the "Staring Derp Face" meme.
Through his study of the books Old Man Hasegawa had left behind, Hasegumo had learned to sense the Cursed Energy levels of other beings, provided they weren't intentionally hiding it.
As he watched, he realized that despite its comical appearance, this Curse was strong—stronger than himself, in fact—and incredibly agile.
The man, however, clearly knew martial arts. On the surface, it looked like an even exchange, but in reality, the Curse was taking a one-sided beating. The man hadn't sustained a single scratch. Unfortunately, the man's Cursed Energy output was low—about the same level Hasegumo had when he first awakened. As a result, his blows weren't dealing any significant damage to the Curse.
Hasegumo considered his options. This time, he didn't reveal his hand immediately. He silently activated his technique and charged at the derpy Curse's back. Though he tried to be quiet, the surge of Cursed Energy from his technique was impossible to mask. The Curse kicked the man back to create distance and spun around to face Hasegumo.
Ambush failed, Hasegumo noted.
He quickly channeled Cursed Energy into his fists. Then I'll just exorcise it head-on.
Despite his resolve, this was his first time facing a Curse with more energy than himself. Hasegumo took two steps back.
"My technique is called Cursed Energy Liberation. It doubles the density of the Cursed Energy coating my body!"
It was "Revealing One's Hand" again, but this time, the boost felt stronger than ever before.
After a split second to adjust to the nearly lag-free energy manipulation, Hasegumo threw a right hook. The Curse was fast; it blocked the hook with its left hand while driving its right fist into Hasegumo's gut. Hasegumo didn't even try to dodge. He surged his energy to the point of impact. His shirt shredded under the blow, but his body remained completely unharmed.
Channeling even more energy into his left hand, he delivered a punch that shattered the Curse's head. Stepping back as the creature dissolved into ash, Hasegumo pressed his hands together. "I hope you can be a normal human in your next life."
The scarred man didn't seem surprised by the exorcism, but as he looked Hasegumo over, his expression began to shift.
Hasegumo had never seen someone's face go through such a kaleidoscope of emotions—from admiration to shock, from disbelief to pure ecstasy. Finally, the man became so emotional that he actually began to cry.
Hasegumo just felt a wave of revulsion. The man wiped a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth. "If I may ask... what is your height?"
"Five-foot-ten."
"And your weight? Seventy-two kilograms?"
"Seven—huh? How did you know?"
"Have you ever considered training in the martial arts?"
"Uh, hold on, Old-Timer. What's going on? Why are you suddenly asking if I want to train? Do you even know what you were just fighting?" Hasegumo asked warily. "And how do you know my weight? You aren't a pervert, are you?"
"My apologies, I'm just a bit overwhelmed! I'm an Assistant Director for the Jujutsu world, but I also run a martial arts dojo for the Shingen-ryu style. I am a martial artist, and..." The man was speaking with frantic intensity. "I'm sorry, can we talk somewhere else? This isn't the best place for a conversation."
Hasegumo gestured for the man to follow. As they reached the alley entrance, Hasegumo paused, looked around, walked in a circle twice, and finally accepted the truth: his tonkatsu sets had been stolen.
"Are you kidding me? I'm in there fighting for my life, and someone steals my takeout? Who hears that much noise in an alley and thinks, 'Yeah, now's a good time for a Five-Finger Discount'?" Hasegumo was baffled.
"Sigh... alright, Old-Timer. Find a restaurant and buy me dinner. And I'm gonna need a new shirt."
Hasegumo could tell the man wasn't a creep; he was actually curious to hear his story. Plus, he'd just saved the guy and lost three meals in the process. A free dinner was the only way to heal his fragile heart.
They stopped at a Chinese restaurant. "This place will do," Hasegumo said to the waiter. "A private room, please."
The waiter handed them the menus. Hasegumo gave the man a look.
The man caught the drift immediately. "No problem. Order whatever you like. I can afford a meal."
"Nothing vegetarian. I'll take one of everything else." The man didn't even flinch.
Oh, he's loaded, Hasegumo thought.
As the dishes began to arrive, the man didn't touch his chopsticks. He gestured for Hasegumo to eat while he began his story.
The man was named Gen Ijichi. His family had been involved in the Jujutsu world for generations. Because he had high Cursed Energy and could see Curses but lacked an innate technique, he had become an Assistant Director. On the side, he ran the Shingen-ryu Dojo.
"Wait a second," Hasegumo interrupted, his mouth full. "Is your founder named Netero? Is the peak of your style called 'Shindigunken,' and do you have to do ten thousand punches of gratitude to learn it?"
"Ah, haha." Ijichi gave a dry, awkward laugh.
"Shingen-ryu is our family's martial art. The founder was an Ijichi, of course. You're thinking of that character from the Hunter x Hunter manga. However, the highest state of our style is called Shindigunken—the 'Heart-Drop Fist Hearing.' And our founder, Rikka Ijichi, really did reach that state through ten years of uninterrupted gratitude punches. He later streamlined the process so future generations wouldn't have to suffer quite as much."
"Speaking of the author of Hunter x Hunter... a man named Yoshihiro Togashi... according to our family records, the Togashi family were disciples of Shingen-ryu in ancient times. They produced many powerful martial artists. But apparently, one generation's successor reached the Shindigunken state and declared that being a sorcerer was a dead-end career. He quit the business and used his 'fist hearing' to play mahjong instead. He never lost a single match and was eventually called the God of Gamblers. I suppose their family history was passed down and Togashi turned it into a manga."
Hasegumo had no words for that. He moved on to a plate of ribs. "So, you still haven't told me why you're asking me to train. Or why you were drooling over me."
"Because of your body. You are the perfect successor for Shingen-ryu. When you were fighting, I saw the star-shaped marking on your abdominal midline. It is the exact same physical trait as our founder, Rikka Ijichi. Five-foot-ten, seventy-two kilograms... I suspect you might even be a descendant of the Ijichi branch family."
"If I'm not mistaken, you haven't undergone any formal strength training, yet your power and speed increase every day. Moreover, your strength and speed are in perfect balance."
"Even if you have an irregular diet or sleep schedule, it doesn't affect your physique. You could binge-eat sugar and never get fat. Any exhaustion is wiped away after a single night's sleep, right?"
"This is the 'Perfect Body' spoken of in our family legends, a once-in-a-millennium miracle. Rikka Ijichi had that same talent. He was the world's strongest martial artist by age twenty-four. At forty, he was exorcising Special Grade Curses with his bare hands despite having zero Cursed Energy."
"Unfortunately, since he lacked Cursed Energy, he had a normal human lifespan. He died of old age at one hundred and twenty, and until the day he passed, he never met an opponent who could truly challenge him in the martial arts."
"You've practiced some form of combat, haven't you? I saw it when you fought that Curse. You have some basic boxing or brawling skills, but those are meant for fighting humans. As a sorcerer, you surely want to get stronger, right?"
"But your enemies are Curses. They aren't all humanoid. The techniques you've practiced will eventually fail you. Martial arts is different. It's about unlocking your body's potential, mastering your own physical form, and honing your combat instinct so you can choose the right move for any situation."
"And the catch?" Hasegumo asked, finishing a bowl of rice and turning his attention to the Braised Pork with Preserved Greens.
Gen Ijichi took a sip of water. "With your body, you could complete the entire Shingen-ryu curriculum in about two years. The Shindigunken state is something that must be discovered, not taught, but I hope that once you reach it, you'll take on a few disciples for the dojo. With my level of skill, I simply can't produce a student who can reach that peak."
"Also, there is a martial arts tournament in three years. I want you to win the championship without using Cursed Energy. It's an all-Japan tournament. Winning it would restore the name of Shingen-ryu to the public eye—that is my life's ambition. Besides, the champion gets a two-million-yen prize from the Japan Martial Arts Association. If you win, the money is yours."
Hasegumo was finally reaching his limit. He poured a glass of water to wash it all down. "I can't guarantee a national championship. And just because someone is a master doesn't mean they can teach, right? This Rikka Ijichi guy you mentioned—did every one of his disciples reach that 'Heart-Drop' state? Probably not."
"Actually, yes. Only those who have reached Shindigunken themselves can teach it to others. Every one of Rikka Ijichi's direct disciples reached that state. But we later discovered that those who reached it through his direct instruction couldn't pass it on as effectively as he did. Only those who achieve the state on their own can consistently produce students who do the same," Ijichi explained.
Hasegumo slammed his hand on the table. "Are you just here to argue with me?"
"I'm guessing you don't come from a sorcerer family, right? You haven't even registered as a sorcerer. As an Assistant Director, I'm familiar with all active sorcerers and students in the schools. There isn't a single 'Hase' on the list."
Ijichi smoothly pivoted the conversation.
"The fact that you came to help me shows you have the heart of a sorcerer. You have the talent and the temperament. To be a sorcerer, you must have the will to grow stronger. Your technique, 'Cursed Energy Liberation,' is built entirely for close-quarters combat. Martial arts will raise your ceiling and make you formidable." Ijichi scratched his head.
"Do you want to become a martial artist?"
"Well, I've never even touched martial arts before," Hasegumo replied.
"Is your reading comprehension that bad? I asked if you wanted to, not if you knew how."
Ijichi continued, "Since the information age began, few people are willing to dedicate their entire lives to the Way of the Fist. For the last couple of centuries, Shingen-ryu has survived, but we've lacked a pillar to hold us up."
"I can dedicate myself to it, but unfortunately, I lack the talent. Once I realized that, my goal changed. I became an Assistant Director specifically to find a talented disciple who could make the name of Shingen-ryu ring throughout Japan once more. And today, right here, I found you. I am lucky. Truly."
As he spoke, Ijichi started tearing up again. Seeing a six-foot-tall man crying "small pearls" of tears was deeply uncomfortable for Hasegumo.
"Do you provide food?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm in."