Time seemed to keep losing value. The more his Cursed Techniques developed, the more there was to refine. And time... was running out.
Sōjun Minamoto could focus on five things at once—not because that was his limit, but because he only had five clones.
So he needed more. More clones, more hands, more results.
As he stepped out of the dorm, a new version of himself emerged with every step. After five steps, five Sōjun Minamotos walked off in different directions. Only three awkward-looking ones, unsuitable for going outside, stayed behind in the dorm to handle other tasks.
Under the White Bone Tree, construction was already underway. A new loft was going up. Sōjun would move in later, keeping constant watch over the Barrier core—or at least making it look like he was.
He did feel a little reluctant. His current place had only been home for a few months. It was tucked away in a quiet spot, right up against the inner wall of Jujutsu High, with the vast forest beyond, where many of his biomimetic creations still roamed.
But the White Bone Tree was smack in the center of the school, surrounded on all sides—an attention-grabbing location that didn't suit his low-profile nature. So Sōjun made one request: the new loft's courtyard had to be large. It would shield him from prying eyes and give him space to keep small animals.
More importantly, it was about the Barrier.
He insisted on supervising the entire construction. The work couldn't be careless; the Barrier had to remain undisturbed.
After all, this would be his new base of operations. Sōjun saw it as a rare chance to craft a true sanctuary—from the site and materials to the structure and layout. Every brick, every tile needed to be placed in accordance with a plan, the whole building embedded like a stake into Jujutsu High itself.
There was a lot to do.
…
He made his way to the medical department.
Riko Amanai spotted him first, running over and shouting, "You're here!"
"Cut the fake cheer," Sōjun rubbed his temple. She had to stand on tiptoe just to reach his chest. Tiny as she was, her voice had this strange echoing resonance that made his skull ache.
Riko staggered back and collapsed into a chair, her upper body sprawled across the desk as she stretched her arms out and sighed, "Studying is soooo exhausting!"
She had changed. The once-eager student who used to love school now loathed studying. Back when assimilation was on the table, she had the drive to try everything, to make new friends. But now? With plenty of time and plenty of friends, the motivation just wasn't there.
Sōjun was exasperated. So many people couldn't handle the pain of studying, yet were fine with the grind of working. That was the difference between voluntary effort and forced effort.
He nagged like a grumpy parent. "If you don't study now, you'll regret it later."
He had really stepped into the parental role. Back when his own parents said those things to him, he'd nod along while thinking, "No way I'll turn into someone like that."
And yet, here he was. Looking at Riko, he thought, Fine, fine... even a worn-out jacket can still keep you warm.
Riko shivered. Realization dawned. Wait—I'm treating you like a friend, but you want to act like my dad?
She raised her fist and warned him, "If you keep using that tone and giving me that look, I swear I'll beat you black and blue!"
Pfft~
In truth, she was progressing fast. Her cursed energy refinement was exceptional, even if her technique hadn't manifested yet. These kinds of complaints could easily sting someone who wasn't doing as well.
Sōjun brushed aside the puffed-up little jacket.
Turning to Shoko Ieiri beside him, he asked, "How are things lately?"
"Same old—no, worse. It's getting grim," Shoko lit a cigarette and took a long drag. "Phew... injuries are piling up."
The veteran smoker's cravings kicked in. Her words drifted through the haze, choppy and muffled.
The smoke stung. Sōjun gave her a quick greeting, slipped on his white coat, and strode toward the operating room.
Riko, who had been watching him the whole time, jumped up and followed. Her spirits restored, she crossed her arms behind her back, skipping to his side, then in front of him, then behind again. Her voice echoed around him:
"Is there a quick way to get stronger—"
She dragged the words out on purpose.
So annoying.
She knew exactly how to push his buttons. She kept chattering all the way into the operating room, only going quiet when an injured person arrived.
Once Sōjun finished treating them, Riko—without being told—stepped forward to clean up. The two worked nonstop until noon. She was still full of energy by the end.
After lunch, Sōjun took a short break. In the afternoon, he found some time to teach Riko jujutsu while staying on standby in the medical department.
Back in the dorm, the clone who'd been practicing Taijutsu had returned, ready to head out with the one who'd just finished refining cursed energy. Together, they'd complete missions, assimilate curses, and earn a bit of money.
Sōjun also needed time to develop new techniques, and there were tasks involving the Fly Head and the Chōchin-obake that only he could push forward...
In short, he needed more clones.
Something had to change.
He decided to merge his clone constructs with the Golden Core, using the Cloning Technique as a model to replicate its effects.
No more waiting.
…
At Masamichi Yaga's place—
"Why are you so free? Did Yuri and the others not buy you puppets as a kid, so now you come here every day to play with them?" Yaga was preparing for class, clearly out of patience with Sōjun, who just stood there blankly, hand to his forehead.
"It's just technique development. Why stress the 'as a kid' part?" Sōjun feigned confusion. "Though I gotta say, your puppets are super cute. Definitely kid stuff..."
Huh? He exaggerated his expression, eyes wide in mock shock. You, with those serious brows and stern eyes—your soul is pink?
Yaga took a deep breath—partly because Sōjun's acting was so bad, he had to collect himself. He glanced toward the corner of the room, where several Sōjuns sat in a circle, each holding a cute plush: bears, kappas, foxes.
That did it.
"If you've got this much ability, go do something useful!" he roared.
"Why do I see your face everywhere these days?"
"Because there's a lot of us," Sōjun joked.
There were maybe ten at most—he could only manage that many while maintaining focus.
The ability was powerful, sure, but not unbeatable. Each clone shared a portion of his total cursed energy.
They didn't tax his body or soul directly, since they were conjured entirely from cursed energy and linked through the Golden Core. How many he could sustain depended on his cursed energy reserves and his multitasking capability.
But his cursed energy had a cap. The more clones, the thinner it was spread. Each individual clone would grow weaker as a result. And there was an upper limit—they could get close to zero cursed energy, but never actually reach zero. If they could, it would basically mimic Heavenly Restriction.
Finding the balance between quantity and quality—this, Sōjun was good at.
At his peak, every detail had to be perfect. He couldn't be too full or too hungry. A full cursed energy pool would overflow, an empty one would dull his edge. His spirit had to be sharp, his momentum explosive, and his will unshakable. Only then could he reach his true peak.
But every clone operating independently reduced his combat strength.
So he categorized the ability as auxiliary—for training.
Experience-based training could stack, but not everything else. For example, if all his clones trained their physical endurance, only the experience would carry over—not the results.
Sōjun was very satisfied with this setup. The power was his; the clones just helped him explore it.
The Technique From the Heart—everything about it aligned perfectly with his own desires.
(30 Chapters Ahead)
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