The system's voice cut through his thoughts without warning.
[Ding!]
[Side Quest "So-Called Classmates" has triggered a hidden condition.]
[Condition met. Calculating rewards...]
Touma blinked. His hand froze mid-push on his glasses.
Hidden condition?
[Though you have not yet earned the recognition of Satoru Gojo or Suguru Geto, your extraordinary talent and deep understanding of Cursed Techniques have unexpectedly earned the full recognition of your homeroom teacher, Masamichi Yaga.]
[System ruling: At Jujutsu High, a teacher also qualifies as a special "companion."]
[Progress updated: 2/4]
[Completed: Shoko Ieiri, Masamichi Yaga.]
A complete surprise.
In the last simulation, this quest had been stuck on Ieiri alone all the way until his death.
His previous self had worked hard, sure, but in Yaga's eyes he'd been nothing more than a diligent student. Now he was something else. Now he was a genius.
One more margin for error...
He drew a slow breath. His gaze sharpened.
Against the terrifying existence known as Toji Fushiguro, every simulation was a life. With this extra card in hand, the cautious survival plan could be scrapped.
The only guaranteed way to stay alive was to not show up at all that day. But hiding wasn't his style.
He needed to get stronger. Strong enough that when that afternoon came, survival wouldn't be the ceiling. He could aim higher. He could kill.
[Spend one attempt to begin simulation?]
"Yes."
[Equipped cards (4/4): Simulator [UR], Cursed Energy Allergy [N], Tryhard [R], Thin Presence [N]]
[Simulation start!]
[Running simulation...]
[Though your choices mirror the previous simulation, you are fundamentally different from the person you were then. Everything has changed.]
[No fumbling this time. No failed prototypes.]
[The once impenetrable notes on Cursed Corpse now read like something pulled straight from a beginner's handbook.]
[You even catch several inefficient circuit designs in the notes and draft optimized solutions in your head as you go.]
[One month.]
[While your classmates are still adjusting to life at Jujutsu High, while Gojo and Geto are writing apology letters for destroying part of the dormitory in a sparring match gone wrong...]
[You walk into Masamichi Yaga's workshop and place a brand-new Cursed Corpse on his workbench.]
["Finished already?"]
[Yaga sets aside his project. His gaze falls on the figure on the bench, roughly fifty centimeters tall.]
[It isn't the crude felt doll that beginners typically produce.]
[What stares back at him is a golden-furred monkey clad in chain-link golden armor, a gold crown perched on its head, a tiger-skin kilt around its waist, and a black iron staff gripped in one paw.]
[The Monkey King. Sun Wukong, rendered in miniature.]
["Yes, sensei. This is my first Cursed Corpse. I call it Wukong."]
[You introduce it with the calm of someone presenting homework, as though crafting something like this is perfectly ordinary.]
["I also made a few minor improvements. The exterior looks like fur and fabric, but it's actually lined with a specialized hydrophobic fiber. The internal stuffing has been high-density compressed as well."]
[You push your glasses up and deliver the most brutal statement in the most clinical tone.]
["This way, even if it ruptures an enemy's organs during combat, the splattered blood and fluids won't seep into the body. Monkey fur is a nightmare to clean once it's soaked, but now you can just hose it off."]
[Silence.]
[Yaga feels something is deeply wrong with this picture. Ruptured organs? Blood that won't seep in? When a Cursed Spirit dies, every trace of its existence vanishes, blood included. So whose blood, exactly, is this student designing around?]
[He looks at the magnificent little Wukong. Then at the student calmly discussing "ruptured organs" and "easy cleanup." His mouth twitches.]
[Field test begins.]
[Against a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit selected as a test subject, your Wukong delivers crushing performance.]
[The stiff, puppet-like movements typical of Cursed Corpses have been refined into something fluid and seamless. The fifty-centimeter frame gives it devastating agility, weaving through the gaps in the Cursed Spirit's massive body while the staff in its hands spins in an airtight blur.]
[One clean strike to the weak point. The iron staff punches straight through the spirit's core.]
[The Grade 2 Cursed Spirit dissolves into fading residue with a final wail.]
[And the little Wukong, its work done, twirls the staff in a flourish that looks almost human before giving its golden fur an elegant shake.]
[Exactly as designed. Not a drop of blood. Still gleaming.]
[Yaga watches, and nerves he thought had gone numb after your earlier demonstrations flare to life again.]
[One month. Only one month.]
[This level of completion, this design philosophy that fuses personal aesthetics with ruthless pragmatism, has already surpassed what he's taught you.]
["Hayase... did you really just start learning this?"]
[Yaga removes his glasses. The look in his eyes is complicated.]
[If Jujutsu High's background check hadn't already turned your history inside out, he'd suspect you were the secret heir of some hidden puppet-master lineage.]
["Of course. It's all thanks to your excellent teaching, sensei. The notes were invaluable."]
[A textbook-perfect answer, delivered without so much as a blink.]
[Yaga puts his glasses back on in silence.]
[Good teaching doesn't explain this. This is pure, unreasonable talent.]
[That evening. At the workshop.]
[Yaga sits staring at a special Cursed Corpse fitted with three complex core slots.]
[You haven't left yet. Wukong stands quietly on your shoulder as you study the blueprint spread across the bench, a design obviously orders of magnitude more complex than any standard Cursed Corpse. After a moment, you speak.]
["Sensei."]
["What is it?"]
["I get the feeling that the Cursed Corpse you really want to build... isn't a pure combat weapon like Wukong."]