The transaction was completed without a hitch.
However, when Mei Mei left the café, she looked completely thoroughly rattled, her usual unflappable demeanor shattered. Ui Ui watched his sister with deep concern, entirely unsure of what to do.
Hakari's expression was incredibly heavy.
Watching Mei Mei and Ui Ui leave, Hakari felt a suffocating knot in his chest. Although Hakari himself had already initiated the 'New Human' transition, he had genuinely never considered the macro-implications of the entire human race undergoing the process. If Mei Mei hadn't brought it up, he never would have realized the terrifying truth.
But once Mei Mei forced him to see it, he realized that knowing the truth was completely useless. Just as Mahito had asked Mei Mei—
*"Aren't you drastically underestimating humanity?"*
He didn't know if Mahito was capable of it right now, but when Mahito finally ascended to the throne of God, he would absolutely possess the power to instantly transition the entire human race into New Humans. That was an undeniable fact. But even if Mahito became a God with that omnipotent power... who would ever actually *ask* him to do it?
Anyone who dared to petition Mahito to grant universal immortality would instantly become the public enemy of the entire global elite.
As the Lord of Curses, Mahito understood this inherent, grotesque human malice on a fundamental level. That was exactly why he so casually offered them the path to 'New Humanity.' In the end, the entity that would violently crush humanity's ultimate salvation wasn't the Cursed Spirits... it was humanity itself.
What bitter irony. What absolute... tragedy.
*Can Curses truly ever be eradicated?* Hakari stared at the café door, letting out a long, heavy sigh, as if trying to exhale all the suffocating frustration crushing his chest.
Suddenly, a heavy hand violently slapped his back.
Mahito slapped him right between the shoulder blades. "Stop brooding! Time to head to the next set!"
Hakari shook off his depression. "Where are we going?"
"I promised Muta-san I wouldn't attack the Kyoto students. I made that promise because, at the time, I didn't fully comprehend the potential of my Reverse Cursed Technique. But things are different now. I need to copy as many innate techniques as physically possible. Therefore, I need to make physical contact with the Kyoto Jujutsu High students. But doing so normally would violate my Vow with Muta-san."
Mahito threw up a thumbs-up, flashing a dazzling, pearly-white grin. "So, we're going to get part-time jobs!"
"How the hell do those two things correlate?!" Hakari was dumbfounded.
"I did my research! Today is Takada-chan's handshake event!" Mahito announced proudly.
"Who?" Hakari asked.
"An idol! A super-tall, 1.8-meter idol!" Mahito scolded. "You idiot, you need to study up on modern pop culture!
"Starting today, you're no longer bound by a mortal lifespan. You are going to live at your exact current age until the cursed energy in the atmosphere completely dissipates. You are literally immortal.
"It's fine right now, but if you stay this completely out of touch for a hundred years, the younger generation is going to mock you and call you an ancient fossil!"
Mahito lectured him severely: "Look at Kenjaku! He is the absolute gold standard for immortality! He's a literal thousand-year-old fossil, yet he flawlessly keeps up with modern youth slang and religiously watches Tokusatsu shows! You need to at least reach Kenjaku's level!"
"If I reach his level, I'd say I failed as a human being," Hakari deadpanned. "I'd rather die than turn into him."
"Admirable resolve. Looking down on even Kenjaku," Mahito said.
"I'm not looking down on his abilities, I'm looking down on his rotten personality! Before I met that guy, I thought my personality was bad. I never realized the absolute rock bottom of human depravity could reach Kenjaku's level. Truly an eye-opening experience." Hakari looked deeply disgusted.
"That just means you need to get out more. Go read some international news. You'll quickly develop a profound respect for the sheer diversity of human garbage," Mahito chuckled.
"Let's just get back to the idol thing," Hakari sighed.
"Where was I? Oh right, Takada-chan," Mahito continued. "She is the idol that Aoi Todo absolute worships. Whenever Takada-chan holds a handshake event, no matter where it is, Aoi Todo is 100% guaranteed to be there.
"And it's not just him. The other Kyoto students will always send at least one person to babysit him. As long as we disguise ourselves as part-time event staff, handing out water and merch, it'll be incredibly easy to make physical contact with them. And it won't trigger the Vow I made with Muta-san!"
Mahito wasn't just talking out of his ass. Aoi Todo's personality was exactly like that. Not only would he eagerly drag himself to his idol's handshake events, but he'd unconsciously drag his classmates along too. They usually wouldn't even realize they'd been roped into it until they were already standing in the queue.
—And it happened constantly!
It was an absolute law of physics: wherever there was a Takada-chan handshake event, there was Aoi Todo and at least one other Kyoto student.
Aoi Todo was the guaranteed pity pull. Momo Nishimiya (Tool Manipulation) was the grand prize. Noritoshi Kamo (Blood Manipulation) was the runner-up. The rest—Mai Zen'in, Kasumi Miwa, and Ultimate Mechamaru—were basically blank lottery tickets.
Unlike a seasoned veteran like Mei Mei, these young Jujutsu students completely lacked the necessary paranoia.
If it were a battle-hardened sorcerer like Mei Mei—someone who had survived the era of ruthless Curse Users—she would instantly go on high alert the second a stranger approached her. Forget handing her a cup of water or shaking hands; just staring at her for too long might trigger a lethal preemptive strike.
Because during that era, Curse Users were genuinely terrifying. They infiltrated everywhere, spread terror, and slaughtered normal humans and sorcerers indiscriminately.
But this was Satoru Gojo's era. The surviving Curse Users were all as timid as quails. Sure, there were disobedient ones—but the disobedient ones were all dead. Satoru Gojo had killed them.
Therefore, when dealing with someone like Mei Mei who had lived through the golden age of Curse User terrorism, Mahito played it completely straight and offered a transparent business deal. He didn't even care if she deduced parts of his true capabilities. As long as he didn't reveal his entire hand, it was fine.
But when dealing with the naive younger generation? Yeah, Mahito had absolutely zero moral qualms about using dirty tricks.
Hakari clicked his tongue. He had to admit, it was a brilliant plan. It bypassed the Binding Vow while guaranteeing perfectly safe contact with the Kyoto students.
He rubbed the back of his neck vigorously and was just about to follow Mahito to their 'part-time job,' when a thought suddenly struck him.
"Hold on. If you just need to make contact with Todo's group, you can do that by yourself, right? Why the hell are you dragging me along?"
"What nonsense are you spouting? Your boss is going to work a grueling part-time job, and you, his lowly employee, dare to refuse to accompany him? Get your ass moving!" Mahito scolded.
"So you're saying you actually don't need me at all?! You bastard, I'm not going!"
"Shut up and follow me!
"Burn all of your 'Miracles' at once! Show me your absolute limit! Come on, let's hit the gacha!"
In the end, Hakari couldn't escape his fate as a part-timer. Mahito forcibly dragged him to Takada-chan's handshake event.
As a side note, Hakari utterly failed to comprehend the concept of a handshake event. A massive crowd of people queuing up for hours just to briefly hold an idol's hand and get a signature? Was it really worth standing in line for hours?
*Look! Even your precious Takada-chan's face is cramping from smiling so much! This is absolute torture for both the idol and the fans! Why don't you people understand?!*
Furthermore, this group of sorcerers had absolutely zero situational awareness when Mahito handed them their water bottles. Even Aoi Todo—a Grade 1 Sorcerer who literally beat a Special Grade Curse to death with his bare hands during the Night Parade—actually gave Mahito an earnest, polite "Thank you."
And Mahito just smiled like an absolute idiot and replied, "You're very welcome."
That day, Kinji Hakari's worldview completely shattered. In more ways than one.
As another side note, their gacha pull yielded the grand prize: Tool Manipulation.
It was an innate technique that allowed the user to freely manipulate a 'Tsukumogami' (a tool that has acquired a spirit). The formation of a Tsukumogami could be actively cultivated. Momo Nishimiya had personally cultivated her broom into a Tsukumogami.
She could ride the broom through the sky like a witch, or command the broom to attack independently. The Tsukumogami could even launch wind blades. It was a technique with incredible hidden potential.
As expected of Hakari's 'Miracles.' They hit the jackpot on the first try.
Now Mahito just had to decide what kind of tool he wanted to cultivate into a Tsukumogami.
Was there even a question?!
When you talk about Tsukumogami, the absolute pinnacle of the trope is the 'Yoto Hime' (Demonic Sword Princess). Now that he possessed Tool Manipulation, if he didn't cultivate his own personal Demonic Sword Princess, Mahito would never forgive himself.
*A Divine Blade, Yoto Hime!*
Over the next few days, Mahito continued to seek out opportunities to make contact with more sorcerers, filling the empty slots in his technique arsenal. However, Mahito knew his limits. He staunchly refused to step foot in Tokyo. As long as Satoru Gojo was physically present in Tokyo, Mahito would absolutely not operate there.
Even Jogo had stopped talking about testing Gojo. He had been beaten so ruthlessly by Hakari that he was completely humbled.
Of course, there was one task taking absolute priority: Perfecting the Construction technique.
Kenjaku poured every ounce of his understanding regarding Construction into Mahito, trying to help him grasp the *feeling*. Yes, the *feeling*.
The most basic application of Construction: using cursed energy to materialize anything the user has seen, including cursed tools.
The advanced application: extracting the user's conceptual understanding to forge complex cursed tools from cursed energy.
The vast majority of Construction users plateaued right there.
In fact, almost all existing cursed tools in the modern era were the physical remnants of ancient Construction users. Their masterworks had persisted permanently through the ages.
And then there was the absolute zenith of the Construction technique. In the entire recorded history of Jujutsu, only a single person had ever reached it. The ancient sorcerer, Yorozu.
Her mastery of Construction completely transcended every other user in history. She could manifest the legendary 'Perfect Sphere' based solely on a theoretical mathematical concept. She could construct the biomechanical 'Bug Armor' simply by observing the flight mechanics of insects. It was no exaggeration to say that if you dropped the original Kamen Rider from the TV show into reality... she could probably build his suit.
Take it one step further, and you get the Guyver bio-boosted armor.
Honestly, it was probably a blessing for humanity that Yorozu didn't live to see the modern era. If she had survived and realized how vast the universe truly was, she probably would have constructed the Guyver armor and started casually manifesting miniature black holes from the palms of her hands.
After all, this was the woman who built a Perfect Sphere purely through delusion. Terrifying didn't even begin to cover it.
Fortunately for Mahito, Kenjaku had spent a significant amount of time conversing with Yorozu in the past. Now, every single secret regarding Yorozu's methodology was laid bare for Mahito.
She had claimed the most important aspect was the *feeling*. The precise *feeling* of constructing an object.
Therefore, Kenjaku demanded Mahito meditate daily, desperately trying to lock onto that specific sensation. Kenjaku actively guided him, hoping Mahito would trigger that crucial epiphany sooner rather than later.
Kenjaku was absolutely convinced: If it was Mahito, he would definitely succeed.
And so, Mahito steadily grew stronger.
Hunting down sorcerers proceeded surprisingly smoothly. Black Bird Manipulation and Cursed Spirit Manipulation proved incredibly useful. While not flashy, they were unparalleled for reconnaissance. However, while *finding* the sorcerers was easy, *recording* their innate techniques proved far more frustrating.
—Because the vast majority of Jujutsu Sorcerers didn't actually have an innate technique!
Mahito suddenly remembered a throwaway detail from the original manga: ordinary, technique-less 'salaryman' sorcerers actually made up the vast majority of the Jujutsu workforce. Sorcerers blessed with an innate technique were a tiny minority.
So why did the original story feature so many sorcerers with innate techniques? Especially the Curse Users, who all seemed to have one?
Because the original story exclusively focused on the absolute highest-tier battlefields! The Culling Game was even more extreme—it was a battle royale filtered from a pool of over a hundred million people.
Mahito finally recalled Gojo's exact words: *"A Jujutsu Sorcerer's strength is 80% innate talent. There's only 20% room for hard work. It's an industry entirely dictated by the genetic lottery."*
This was a massive miscalculation on Mahito's part. He never expected to hit a wall based on pure statistics.
Kenjaku, on the other hand, wasn't surprised in the slightest. He advised, "If you acquire one, great. If not, it doesn't matter. Innate techniques are largely dictated by luck anyway. We just have to keep trying. There's no need to halt our search; your 'Soul Creation' only requires a simple touch anyway. Treat it like a daily routine. If we find one, it's a pleasant surprise. If we don't, it's just business as usual."
Next came the cultivation of the Tsukumogami. This proceeded much more smoothly. Kenjaku specifically tracked down a rust-covered, ancient blade for the project.
"Blade length: 1.35 meters. Hilt length: 0.8 meters. Double-edged blade, suitable for both slashing and thrusting. Wielded two-handed, it can serve as both a sword and a spear." Kenjaku handed the massive 'odachi' to Mahito.
The specs felt incredibly familiar. "Futsu-no-Mitama?" Mahito asked.
Stored within a museum in Japan is an ancient, legendary longsword. Mythologically, it is the blade that severed the heads of Gods, named Futsu-no-Mitama. Its dimensions exceed those of a standard nodachi, but its blade is as perfectly straight as a pine tree. Many people falsely believe that the iconic curved blade is the defining trait of all Japanese swords. Very few know that the oldest Japanese swords were completely uncurved. They were forged from folded steel just to be lethal; otherwise, they were incredibly brittle and only useful as decorative ceremonial blades.
This straight-blade design was originally imported from countries to the west. However, ancient Japan lacked the advanced metallurgy required to perfect it. Through eras of trial and error, Japanese swordsmiths eventually curved the blade and sharpened only a single edge, utilizing the tip and the curve to optimize the cutting angle. This evolution ultimately resulted in the iconic, distinctly Japanese katana.
But this 'Futsu-no-Mitama' lacked any curve whatsoever. Its scale was massive, and it was double-edged. This design only existed in an era so ancient that the very concept of the 'katana' hadn't even been invented yet.
"It is a masterfully crafted replica. The genuine Futsu-no-Mitama is enshrined at Kashima Shrine. Its blade length is 2.24 meters, with a staggering total length of 2.70 meters. It's far more absurd than the one in my hand. But even as a replica, having weathered the baptism of time, it possesses more than enough history to manifest the highest caliber of Tsukumogami." Kenjaku smiled deeply. "Do not disappoint 'her.' This ancient blade is a masterpiece entirely capable of slaughtering Gods."
Mahito absolutely believed him. The older the object, the more unfathomably powerful the Tsukumogami it birthed. An object this ancient possessed the raw potential to slay a deity.
*This is a true God-slaying blade.* Mahito accepted it with absolute reverence.
He possessed absolutely zero swordsmanship skills. And he didn't need them.
The instant the Tsukumogami was born, its innate power would completely bridge any gap in technical skill. As long as the artifact was ancient enough, and more importantly—beautiful enough.
Cultivating a Tsukumogami required genuine affection. If the weapon wasn't aesthetically pleasing, no matter how practical it was, you could never cultivate a true Tsukumogami from it. Therefore, beauty was the absolute prerequisite; everything else was secondary.
After two days of cultivation, the thick rust began to flake away, revealing a surprisingly bright, polished blade. Under the moonlight, the steel rippled like a clear spring, possessing a delicate elegance akin to a young woman's brow.
Mahito visualized the anthropomorphized form of this ancient blade:
*She must have long, straight black hair, as smooth as spring water, cascading all the way down to her calves. Her black bangs part to reveal a pristine forehead, branded with the crest of a God. She wears traditional shrine maiden attire, her expression cold and aloof. Her legs are long and slender, clad in white thigh-high socks and thick wooden geta sandals. In her hands, she wields a massive, straight-edged odachi—her true body—radiating a chilling, breathtaking beauty.*
The ancient blade hummed softly. Mahito gently stroked the steel, his touch as tender as caressing a lover's hand.
Finally, there was the grueling process of finding the 'feeling' for Construction.
For this, even Kenjaku had no shortcuts. Mahito just had to put in the grueling, repetitive work. Fortunately, because the Tsukumogami cultivation was proceeding so flawlessly, Mahito wasn't overly frustrated. His overall progress was highly satisfactory.
Days turned into weeks.
Mahito assumed he would simply grind away in peace until he finally locked onto the 'feeling'. But then, something happened.
Exactly one month had passed. It was exactly Mahito's second full month existing in this world.
His Tsukumogami had just been fully birthed. She was a deeply shy young girl. He was in the middle of celebrating when Hakari suddenly approached him.
"Mahito. We've got a problem," Hakari said grimly.
Mahito was sitting deep in the mountains, surrounded by clear springs and flowing streams. He sat cross-legged, his eyes closed, the long, straight blade resting across his lap. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, catching the silver edge of the blade, radiating a warm, brilliant light.
When Hakari spoke, Mahito opened his heterochromatic eyes, and the longsword let out a sharp, crystalline hum.
"As expected of a Tsukumogami personally cultivated by Mahito. Even the light reflecting off it is lethally sharp." Hakari admired the blade. That singular hum had felt exactly like a razor-sharp edge pressing directly against Hakari's carotid artery. In a fraction of a second, the primal terror of death had seeped into his marrow.
This was a newly born Tsukumogami from an ancient blade. Its mere sharpness was already capable of inducing fatal hallucinations. Hakari couldn't even fathom the earth-shattering devastation it would cause when it was actually swung in anger.
"It's still too early. I have a few more concepts I want to integrate into it." Mahito also admired the blade, but not as a weapon of murder. He admired it as a newborn life. This was his first time cultivating a Tsukumogami, and it had triggered an explosion of inspiration. His mind was racing with new ideas. "Also, it's a 'she'. She's a very shy girl."
Hakari rubbed his neck. That lethally sharp glare had felt like it wanted to puncture his throat. *That counts as 'shy'?*
*Whatever. The boss says she's shy, she's shy.*
"What happened?" Mahito asked.
"Someone called me. They asked for you by name," Hakari said darkly. "I suspect Mei Mei compromised us. She leaked your existence to the Jujutsu world."
Mahito was completely unfazed. "It was only a matter of time. Frankly, the fact that the intel is only leaking now proves Mei Mei is incredibly dedicated to her business contracts. We never even signed a Binding Vow, after all," Mahito said with a smile.
Of course, if Mei Mei ever showed her face again, Mahito would personally butcher her. Because her betrayal was absolute. If he didn't kill her, he couldn't enforce absolute authority. It didn't matter if Mahito actually cared about the leak; once a betrayal occurred, regardless of the consequences, the traitor had to die.
"Who's looking for me?" Mahito gently stroked the long blade. "Let me guess. A faction desperate to solidify their status and establish eternal rule... It has to be one of the Big Three Families. It definitely isn't the Gojo clan. That leaves Kamo or Zen'in. Which one?"
"As sharp as ever, Mahito," Hakari said, genuinely impressed. "It's the Zen'in clan. They formally invited you to their estate as an honored guest, completely guaranteeing your safety."
"Did they offer a Binding Vow?" Mahito asked.
"No," Hakari frowned.
"So they're planning to lay an inescapable trap to capture me," Mahito said, sounding perfectly relaxed. "Well, my life isn't in danger. I hold the monopoly on flawless immortality, after all. They definitely wouldn't dare kill me.
"But they'll do literally everything short of killing you," Hakari warned immediately. "You cannot go, Mahito."
"No, I'm going," Mahito stated.
Hakari froze.
"I've recently realized something. Something incredibly obvious, yet something my subconscious had completely ignored."
"Which is?"
"Let me ask you, Kinji. Under what specific conditions does a cursed technique experience exponential, explosive growth?" Mahito asked.
As a pure frontline brawler, Hakari was more qualified to answer that question than almost any other sorcerer alive. He looked deeply at Mahito and answered grimly, "In a deathmatch."
Exactly. Including purely supportive techniques like Construction, the absolute fastest way to exponentially increase one's mastery over a technique was a deathmatch. More accurately: *the exact microsecond before death.*
It fundamentally differed from traditional technological advancement. People often claim that 'war is the greatest catalyst for technological leaps.' But that logic only holds true if the foundational theoretical groundwork has already been laid. Only then can war force a sudden, explosive breakthrough. Otherwise, tribal warfare is still technically 'war.' Has tribal warfare ever triggered a technological singularity?
Well, technically yes. The 'singularity' in tribal warfare is inventing slightly better bowstrings and slightly sharper spears. But cursed techniques operate on an entirely different metric. Because a technique is entirely dependent on the individual.
A cursed technique is engraved directly into the sorcerer's brain. The closer they are to death, the more violently the brain optimizes the technique's precision—because if it doesn't, the sorcerer dies! This applied to everyone, including Satoru Gojo. A sorcerer cultivated in a perfectly safe, controlled environment could never, ever reach the absolute pinnacle of Jujutsu. Every single sorcerer understood this fundamental truth.
Mahito suddenly asked, "Kinji. Will Satoru Gojo be at the Zen'in estate?"
"If Gojo-sensei was going to be there, the Zen'in clan never would have invited you," Hakari stated firmly. "Gojo-sensei would literally string up the entire Zen'in clan and beat them half to death just for daring to collude with a Curse!"
Mahito's smile widened. "In that case, I have absolutely nothing to worry about."
He stood up, effortlessly lifting the longsword with one hand and holding it up to his face. The sunlight reflecting off the blade mirrored perfectly in Mahito's heterochromatic eyes, shining like a silver mirror.
"Zen'in-giri (Zen'in Cutter)? Hmm, no, that sounds awful. My girl won't be satisfied with merely cutting down the Zen'in clan. 'Zen'in' implies 'Temple' or 'Buddha'... Buddha-giri? Hmm, no, I'll ascend to Godhood myself eventually, so that name is inappropriate. Let me think..."
He stared at the blade and whispered softly, "Mirokuji. From this day forward, you are Mirokuji Kirigiri.
"Mirokuji as your surname, signifying the Temples of Gods and Buddhas. Kirigiri as your given name, signifying the All-Severing Blade. The Divine Blade that Severs Gods and Buddhas!
"Let us baptize your birth with the blood of the Zen'in clan, my Divine Blade—
"—Mirokuji Kirigiri."