From the bottom of the scorched, glassy crater came a string of broken coughs.
With the soft rattle of loose gravel falling, a burned silhouette slowly lengthened through the rising white smoke, then finally straightened again amid the wrecked field.
"But the side effects are still too severe. Concentrating that kind of positive energy puts enormous pressure on a Heavenly Restriction body like mine.
If I get caught in my own blast, it starts interfering with the efficiency of my liquefaction defense, so there's still a lot to improve..." Kaede muttered.
Gojo Satoru remained crouched on one knee at the edge of the crater, long fingers idly brushing back a small section of singed white hair from his forehead.
Through the lenses, those pale blue Six Eyes looked down at the battered shadow below, one that looked like it might collapse at any moment and yet had still managed to stand back up.
At Kaede's calm summary about "backlash," a low laugh slipped from Gojo's throat.
"That's only natural. Positive energy is healing by nature, but to a curse, a body built entirely from negative cursed energy, it's instant poison.
Since your body is a Heavenly Restriction construct forged from cursed energy, trying to refine and detonate positive energy inside yourself is basically like pumping concentrated acid through your own veins."
Gojo stood, his shoes crunching over the still-blistering black earth with a sound sharp enough to set teeth on edge.
He glanced down at what remained of his uniform, most of the upper half burned away, and at the exposed arm beneath, marked all over by vivid red burns.
A weak white glow flickered irregularly around the edges of the wounds. It was reverse cursed technique, suppressed by the lingering "clear sky" law, trying to turn like rusted gears and slowly repair the tissue.
He started down the sloping edge of the crater, grinding one shoe through a bubbling puddle that had been boiled outright.
"But using the clones as buffer containers, then only channeling that 'poison' into your real body at the final moment to trigger the explosion... your control is already as precise as a surgeon's scalpel.
As for the suppression of your liquefaction efficiency..."
Gojo stopped three paces from the center of the crater.
The surrounding air still shimmered from the heat, but the pressure unique to the strongest sorcerer had not weakened in the slightest because of his injuries. If anything, stained with smoke and blood, it felt even sharper.
"If you want to solve that problem, ordinary cursed energy control has already hit its limit.
You need an external valve.
For example, by setting some harsh binding vow and transferring the burning cost of positive energy elsewhere. Or by finding a special-grade cursed tool that can withstand extreme heat and positive energy, and using it as the release medium for your reversed technique, so your own body doesn't have to keep sitting at the center of detonation."
He slipped one hand into the remains of his pocket and fumbled around, probably looking for candy, only to discover that whatever had been there was long since turned to ash in the blast.
Gojo clicked his tongue and looked out across the ruined training ground, his voice carrying a trace of offhand amusement.
"There's definitely a lot of room to improve, but that little unnamed light sphere of yours is already enough to blast a crater straight through one of the higher-ups' meetings.
All right, today's physical training is officially overachieved. Since my reverse cursed technique is currently running like a jammed vending machine, and you're about one step from drying out completely..."
He turned away from the center of the crater and waved the arm marked by burns without much care. His long shadow stretched at an angle across the shredded afternoon light.
"Go find Shoko.
If she sees me looking like this because a kid who hasn't even officially been rated special grade yet managed to roast me alive, her laughter will probably tear the roof off the infirmary."
What a joke.
Kaede could only feel speechless.
Just injuring Gojo this much had nearly emptied his cursed energy bar. He was maybe hanging on to one part in ten.
And by contrast, Gojo hadn't used his domain, hadn't used Hollow Purple, of course if he had, Kaede would have been running for his life, and inside the domain he hadn't even used Falling Blossom Emotion or Simple Domain.
Still...
Kaede rose slowly, thinking.
"I really have crossed the threshold of special grade..."
There were probably fewer than five people in the modern jujutsu world who could claim they had actually managed to hurt Gojo. Now, apparently, he was one of them.
Sure, there had been some restraint involved. But Kaede was only sixteen, and he had only been part of the jujutsu world for about five months.
To have come this far already, he was a genius among geniuses.
Two days later...
"According to the intel, this is a solo mission to eliminate a curse-user base in the suburbs near Harajuku. Gojo's got business overseas again.
This time it's just me. Based on the briefing, there are about four Grade 2-level curse users in the base, three semi-Grade 1s, and two Grade 1s."
That was what Kaede was thinking as he walked.
The night wind in the suburbs of Harajuku carried the coolness of early autumn as it swept through the overgrown abandoned industrial zone.
The rusted wire gate creaked in the wind with a shrill metallic groan.
Inside the sedimentation hall of the old underground water-treatment plant, the air was murky, thick with years of mildew and rust.
Dim emergency lights flickered overhead, casting long, warped shadows from the thick concrete support pillars.
When the heavy metal door leading into the underground chamber was pushed open, the scrape of steel echoed through the vast empty facility.
A figure with black hair and dark red eyes appeared in the doorway. In the dim light, his slightly long bangs cast soft shadows over his face.
In one hand he carried the specially modified Mikazuki Munechika Replica, held point-down. The blade reflected nothing, only a faint current of cursed residue moving across it.
The hall inside was anything but undefended.
In fact, one second before the iron door opened, the alarm barrier set around the plant exterior had already been silently cut apart.
At the center of the hall, nine figures of varying heights had already spread out according to some tactical formation. At the very front stood two Grade 1 curse users.
The man on the left was bald, his face marked with a scar, both hands wrapped in bandages soaked through with dark red cursed energy. The woman on the right wore tight leather and held several long poisoned senbon between her fingers.
The scar-faced man did not charge immediately. His bloodshot eyes stayed fixed on Kaede in the doorway, sweeping rapidly across Kaede's face, his grip on the sword, and the empty corridor behind him.
"Just one brat? The intel says the white-haired Six Eyes isn't here?"
The woman lowered her center of gravity slightly, her boots grinding softly against the rough concrete.
Her eyes were extremely cautious. She did not relax just because the intruder looked young.
"Don't get careless, Kuroda. The Grade 2 perimeter alarm barrier outside was dissolved instantly. Not even a trace of cursed energy collision fed back as warning.
The way this kid's cursed energy flows is weird. Don't let his age fool you."
The man called Kuroda bared his teeth in a vicious grin that still carried not a shred of recklessness.
He raised his right hand, wrapped in bandages, and made a subtle tactical signal.
"Doesn't matter who he is. If he's stupid enough to walk into our base alone, we bury him here.
Team Two, suppress with ranged fire and test what his technique does.
Team Three, seal off his retreat. Until we know his trump card, no one engages him in close combat."
The moment the order was given, the killing intent in the plant exploded.
Three Grade 2 curse users concealed along the abandoned iron catwalk on the second level revealed themselves at once.
With a snap of mechanisms releasing, six steel bolts carved with talismanic markings tore through the air from three separate angles, aimed precisely for Kaede's head, throat, and heart.
The bolts screamed through the dark, and trailing from their tails were explosive tags already moments from detonation.
At the same time, a semi-Grade 1 curse user hidden behind one of the support columns slammed both palms against the floor.
With a low roar, the terrain at the doorway changed in an instant.
The hard concrete beneath Kaede's feet softened and collapsed like boiling mud, trying to lock both his legs in place at the exact same moment the crossbow bolts arrived and strip away any room to dodge.
There was no wasted talk, no arrogant probing, no theatrical challenge.
This was the most ruthless and lethal opening net a team of curse users, veterans of countless fights to the death, could throw when faced with an unknown intruder.
The edge of the bolts was already reflected in those dark red eyes.
And the light of the explosive tags flared to life inside the dim hall.