Sacrificial Trade.
A kind of trade that allows the user of the Death Trade curse technique to one-time manifest a copy of an entity previously defeated by the user inside his or her domain, at the cost of sacrificing any and all things obtained from the said entity.
I honestly didn't even know that was a possibility. At least not until I hit those Black Flashes.
It was really true when they say that a Black Flash in the world of Jujutsu is the single most important indicator to observe a sorcerer's potential and talent.
The difference in understanding and control of cursed energy and technique for a sorcerer is like of Heaven and Earth before and after hitting a Black Flash.
I hit five of them.
Needless to say, if I'm not pulling shit like this out of my ass, then I'll be better off dead.
It cost me though.
To beat Jogo, to waste his domain, I had to give up on Dagon's powers, and now to beat Mahoraga, I am being forced to give up on Jogo's.
My tired eyes lingered a little longer on Jogo, at the power I just forsook to survive, and then at Mahoraga—the culprit.
Both Jogo and Mahoraga were glaring at each other with an intensity that could have melted their fraud allegations for once.
Fraud? you ask.
Because neither of them actually ever won a fight against a really strong enemy, at least I don't remember them doing that in the anime. I could be wrong, of course.
Another reminder that I might not have read the manga, since even after much probing at my memories, I couldn't see past what happened in Shibuya.
While I was in my own mind, the two monsters didn't stand around for me to recover.
One second they were standing in their respective places, and the next, both were gone. It was surprising that even Mahoraga, that hulking monstrosity, could move that fast.
Was that what he adapted to before—speed?
Jogo, though, was much faster than me. At least in raw speed. Both collided midway through their rush, fist to fist, generating a shockwave that left a mini crater behind on the ground after their collision.
I gulped, loss of Jogo's powers be damned, I was just happy that I wasn't the one facing that monster.
And then what followed was what I would call a typical DBZ-style hand-throwing session between the two.
Fast, accurate, and utterly painful when I recall how hard that bastard curse hits.
Though, maybe not as hard as Mahoraga.
...Ding.
The wheel turned once, and the next fist connected directly with Jogo's face, sending him ten steps back.
If my eyes weren't playing tricks on me, I could see Mahoraga's body shifting ever so slightly. The body became slightly smaller and leaner, indicating it was adapting for speed and agility.
"His entire body changes? Is that how he adapts?" I muttered in confusion.
"Oi... what the hell are you doing there staring? Join the fight. This is your life on the line here, you know." Jogo's sharp remark put a full stop to my train of thought.
"Yeah, yeah." I nodded, shaking off the random theories forming in my mind and struggling to get my half-broken, half-burned, completely uncooperative body to stand up.
Every movement felt like walking on a track full of spikes with salt attached to them for an extra painful trip.
Now was not the time to lose focus. Surviving came first. And with that thought, once again I asked myself—how can I beat Mahoraga?
With Jogo's help, I knew I had the needed firepower. Hell, I always had it the moment I beat him inside my domain.
But I can't use it. My technique was still on cooldown. I had to summon him so he could hold back the Divine General until my technique recovered.
But can he?
My eyes drifted to the top of Mahoraga's head. The wheel was still—no more adaptations. But it was only a matter of time before it spun again.
"Quit spacing out. How long until your technique recovers?" Jogo snapped again.
"I... I'm uncertain. I have already strained my brain too much with back-to-back domain activations in the last half hour."
I hated it, but I knew my condition best. If my estimation was right, I might not be able to open my domain again tonight. Period.
No... no.
Don't think that. There has to be a way.
"Do you have any attack that can take Mahoraga in one shot? Give me your best."
Jogo just nodded. I knew it too—it was the one he used in the anime against Sukuna. His maximum technique. But...
"But that will take time for me to prepare. He won't let me." Jogo pointed at the Divine General, slowly walking toward both of us again.
If not for this monster's aura farming, I'd be toast by now.
My lips pursed. Time—that was exactly what I was lacking.
"How long do you need?"
"30 seconds, give or take."
Silence spread between us. It was only 30 seconds, but in front of that monster, it felt like a huge chasm.
A sense of desperation washed over me. The truth was right in front of me. To beat him, I had to stall that monster for 30 seconds.
Just half a minute, and I could win. But I knew for certain that in my condition, I'd die within just 5 seconds against him.
My eyes trembled. For the second time since coming to this world, my body felt like it wasn't responding to me.
'Is this the gap between the strongest and someone weak like me?'
"What are the odds we face... I never expected myself to be helping a human, you know." Suddenly, Jogo spoke, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I glanced at him.
Jogo's single eye was still on Mahoraga, but he continued.
"I always thought that we cursed spirits are the real humans of this world. I still do...
And yet, even after dying, being here as nothing more than a doll to save the one who killed me... how pathetic an end that is.
But you know what? That just makes my belief even firmer.
We cursed spirits are better than humans because we never stray from our goals and nature. We do what we are born to do and stick with it until the very end.
Even now, under your control, doing your bidding, fighting to save your life—I still hate your existence.
However, I'm here to protect you. And just like a cursed spirit, I'll give my all to do what I'm here for. That is our nature. We are true to ourselves, unlike you deceiving humans."
I blinked.
For a moment, I didn't fully grasp what he meant. Wasn't he bound to follow my orders as a construct created by my technique?
But then I realized—Jogo was bound to obey, yes. But to speak like this, to show sentience, to assert himself... that wasn't the doing of my technique.
That was Jogo.
His lingering consciousness within the construct.
He was helping me—even while declaring his hatred—because that was his nature.
To give everything for his role.
His identity.
I clenched my trembling fist with whatever strength I had left.
He was right. To lose fighting spirit by measuring the gap—that was cowardice.
That's how losers think.
The brave...
They take the leap of faith.
And they fly.
"30 seconds it is. Good enough. Start preparing the fire, I'll ready the ingredients." I declared with determination, no matter how much my voice trembled.
And I might be mistaken, but I could have sworn I saw his lips curl upward.
"Heh, cooking. How ridiculous a notion. I expect nothing less from a human. But fine... I'll bite."
"LET'S COOK."
xXx
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