The training ground of the Tokyo Jujutsu High looked a little empty under the midday sun.
Megumi Fushiguro leaned against a pillar at the edge of the field, his hands in the pockets of his uniform, his eyes beneath his black fringe calmly watching Yuji Itadori in the center of the hall. The pink-haired teenager was sweating profusely, training on a special dummy, his fists covered in a thin but genuine layer of blue cursed energy.
Four days had passed since Itadori swallowed Sukuna's finger and Gojo-sensei brought him back to the technical college.
In four days—from an ordinary person who knew nothing about jujutsu to being able to concentrate cursed energy, reinforce his body, and even begin to grasp the basics of "acquired techniques"—this progress was frighteningly fast. But Megumi Fushiguro knew that this was not only due to Itadori's own talent but also the influence of the "tenant" inside his body.
Ryomen Sukuna. The King of Curses. Even if it was only the awakening of a single finger's worth of power, the instinctive understanding of combat and cursed energy accumulated over a thousand years unconsciously affected Itadori's growth.
"Hah—!"
Itadori threw another punch. This time, the cursed energy on his fist had slightly strengthened, leaving a noticeable dent in the dummy's chest. He stepped back two steps, breathing heavily, shaking his numb wrist, but with an enthusiastic smile on his face.
"Fushiguro! Did you see that? That one had a bit of the 'Cursed Energy Vortex' feel to it!"
"You're still far from it," Megumi Fushiguro said calmly, but there was no mockery in his tone, only a statement of fact. "The essence of Gojo-sensei's 'Cursed Energy Vortex' is 'rotation' and 'compression.' Your cursed energy is only covering the surface of your fist. You haven't even done the simplest shape transformation."
"Yeah… I guess," Itadori scratched his head, not discouraged, but his eyes shone even brighter. "Then I'll practice again! Gojo-sensei said that once I master basic cursed energy control, I can start learning hand seals! Then I'll be able to make that spinning sphere of light too!"
With that, he straightened up again, ready to continue training.
Megumi Fushiguro watched him quietly.
Acquired techniques.
Through hand seals and self-binding, in exchange for a temporary change in the nature of cursed energy. Five basic attributes, dozens of combination variations—a complete, systematic, and learnable energy system.
And this system was created by that man a thousand years ago.
Zen'in Genji.
Megumi Fushiguro's fingertips unconsciously curled inside his pockets. He remembered what his father Toji—no, his adoptive father—had said.
"Megumi, do you know why the Zen'in clan is so obsessed with the Ten Shadows Technique?"
At that time, he had just become accustomed to the technique. Toji rarely wasn't out "working." He was sitting on the tatami at home, holding a can of beer, his eyes a little unfocused.
"Because of 'that lord,'" Toji had said, a complex emotion in his voice that Megumi Fushiguro had never heard before—not admiration, not worship, but rather… an indescribable sense of absurdity. "Zen'in Genji—a once-in-a-millennium divine child born to the Zen'in clan, the only one in history to fully subjugate Mahoraga with the Ten Shadows Technique. When he was alive, the Zen'in clan was the undisputed pinnacle of the jujutsu world. After his death, the Zen'in clan spent a thousand years trying to create another 'him.'"
Toji took a sip of beer and said disdainfully, "Ridiculous, isn't it? One man was so strong he overshadowed an entire clan for a thousand years. What's even more ridiculous is—"
He paused and looked at Megumi Fushiguro. His always lazy eyes flickered with a light that Megumi Fushiguro couldn't understand.
"The man who was revered as a 'god' back then—the thing he did most wasn't sitting on an altar receiving worship. He ran all over the country, teaching those 'useless' sorcerers who had no innate techniques and weak cursed energy how to create fireballs, shoot water arrows, and summon lightning—that's the 'acquired techniques' you're learning now."
At the time, Megumi Fushiguro didn't understand. Why would a man standing at the pinnacle of power waste time on such an ungrateful task? Wouldn't it be more useful to practice his own techniques? Or take on a few more talented disciples?
But now, watching Itadori train diligently, watching the various attribute changes that Gojo-sensei casually demonstrated, Megumi Fushiguro suddenly understood a little.
Acquired techniques weren't flashy tricks. Their upper limit of power wasn't as high as innate techniques, but their learning difficulty wasn't low either—they still required a lot of practice and understanding. For someone of Zen'in Genji's level, these techniques might not even be considered "toys."
But he created them.
And he preserved them.
So that more untalented people could at least have the power to protect themselves and others.
"That really is…" Megumi Fushiguro whispered, his voice so low that only he could hear, "something else."
As a successor of the Ten Shadows Technique, Megumi Fushiguro was acutely aware of the gap between himself and this ancestor—not just a gap in talent and power, but a more fundamental gap in "vision" and "choice."
He trained to become stronger, to protect those he wanted to protect, to live up to his father's expectations.
Zen'in Genji trained, created, and left behind a legacy… as if for something grander and more distant.
"Fushiguro."
Satoru Gojo's voice suddenly sounded in his ear. Megumi Fushiguro snapped out of it and found that Gojo-sensei was already standing beside him, holding yet another sweet—how many had this man eaten?
"Sensei."
"What are you thinking about?" Satoru Gojo took a bite of the dessert and said indistinctly. "Your expression is so serious, it doesn't suit you."
"…Nothing," Megumi Fushiguro looked away. "I was just thinking that the acquired technique system is very… meticulous."
"Of course it's meticulous," Satoru Gojo said as a matter of fact. "This is what Lord Zen'in Genji spent three years thinking about, testing, and gradually perfecting. From the selection of the five basic elemental attributes, to the design of the hand seal gestures, to the self-binding contract terms, and even the safety restrictions and practice methods for each technique… everything was considered."
He paused and added, "And this system is 'open.' Once you master the basics, you can develop your own variations according to your understanding and needs—like me, I adapted the 'Cursed Energy Vortex' from its original 'water attribute' to a 'Limitless' version that suits me better."
Megumi Fushiguro was silent for a moment, then asked, "Lord Zen'in Genji… why was he able to reach that level?"
"Huh?" Satoru Gojo raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Megumi Fushiguro organized his thoughts, "he was already the strongest of his era, an existence called a 'god.' He could have completely focused on his own cultivation, like other strong individuals, or only trained a few talented disciples. Why spend so much time and energy creating a technique system beneficial to the 'weak'?"
He had held back this question for a long time.
Satoru Gojo didn't answer immediately. After finishing the last bite of his sweet, he crumpled the wrapper into a ball and threw it—the paper ball traced a parabola through the air and landed precisely in a trash can twenty meters away.
Then he turned, leaned his back against the pillar, and looked up at the sky.
The midday sun was a bit harsh, but Satoru Gojo, wearing his black blindfold, seemed completely unaffected.
"Megumi, have you ever seen real 'chaos'?" He suddenly asked.
Megumi Fushiguro shook his head.
"Neither have I," Satoru Gojo said. "But I've heard Principal Yaga talk about the records from a thousand years ago. Before Lord Zen'in Genji appeared, the Heian period was like a 'Warring States' period for sorcerers and curses."
His voice was calm, but each word carried the weight of history.
"At that time, there was no 'Jujutsu Headquarters,' no 'Jujutsu High,' and no unified rules or order. Sorcerers were divided into clans, fighting each other for resources and territory. Curse users were even more unscrupulous, using ordinary people for experiments, live sacrifices, raising cursed spirits—a disaster. And ordinary people, caught between sorcerers and cursed spirits, were harvested like straw, at will."
Satoru Gojo paused.
"Lord Zen'in Genji unified the jujutsu world not through 'persuasion,' but through 'killing.' He tracked down all the sorcerers and curses who were doing evil, one by one, and then…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
But Fushiguro could imagine it. The "god" who had subjugated Mahoraga at sixteen and was acknowledged as Sukuna's only rival—how much blood would it take to suppress an entire era?
"But killing people doesn't solve the fundamental problem," Satoru Gojo continued. "Kill one batch, and another will appear. As long as 'power' and 'desire' exist, as long as the weak have no power to resist the strong, this tragedy will repeat."
He turned his head and "looked" at Megumi Fushiguro through his black blindfold.
"So Lord Zen'in Genji did two things. First, he established an iron rule—sorcerers must not harm ordinary people without reason; violators will be killed. Second, he created acquired techniques—so that untalented sorcerers would at least have the ability to protect themselves, and also have the ability to stand up and say 'no' when the weak become victims."
Satoru Gojo smiled. There was a complex meaning in that smile.
"It's ironic, isn't it? The man who established order through killing ultimately wanted a world that wouldn't require so much killing."
Megumi Fushiguro was speechless.
Suddenly, he remembered the notes Zen'in Genji had left on barrier techniques—his father Toji had shown him a few pages of copies that Naobito Zen'in had quietly compiled. The notes were terrifyingly detailed—from the most basic rune analysis to advanced barrier construction, including analysis and improvement suggestions for various failure cases.
At the time, Megumi Fushiguro thought this ancestor was very powerful, able to systematically organize such complex knowledge.
Now he understood that these notes, these acquired techniques, these barriers covering the entire world… all of it was a man standing at the peak of his power, trying to pave a "less difficult" path for those who came after him.
Even if he himself wouldn't walk that path, perhaps never even use it.
"So…" Megumi Fushiguro's voice was a little dry. "Lord Zen'in Genji created the acquired technique system not for himself, but for…"
"So that more people would at least have the 'choice' when facing injustice and disaster," Satoru Gojo finished his sentence. "Whether to flee, to fight, to protect others, or to watch coldly—at least they have the ability to choose."
In the center of the training ground, Itadori swung his fist again. This time, the cursed energy on his fist didn't disperse. Instead, it formed a very faint, rapidly spinning tiny cyclone. Although it collapsed the next second, it had the prototype of "rotation."
"I did it!" Itadori jumped up excitedly. "Did you see that, Fushiguro? That one had rotation!"
"I saw it," Megumi Fushiguro nodded, the corners of his lips involuntarily lifting in a very faint arc. "Keep practicing. When you can stabilize it, ask Gojo-sensei to teach you the hand seals."
"Okay!"
Itadori immersed himself in practice again. Satoru Gojo patted Megumi Fushiguro on the shoulder and walked away, probably to get more dessert.
Megumi Fushiguro stood there for a long time, watching Itadori's hard work, and whispered to himself:
"That really is… amazing."
---
At the same time—the innate domain.
The throne of bones stood quietly in the endless sea of blood. Sukuna sat on the throne, his four arms resting calmly on the armrests, his four crimson eyes on his faces "looking" at the outside world—through Yuji Itadori's vision, at the training ground, at Megumi Fushiguro, at Satoru Gojo, and at the faint but real prototype of an acquired technique in Itadori's palm.
"Heh…"
A soft laugh echoed across the domain.
Sukuna's two mouths opened simultaneously, revealing a hideous and complex smile.
"Acquired techniques… Zen'in Genji, even after a thousand years, you're still so interesting."
He closed his eyes—though it had little effect on his "vision" of the outside world, it allowed him to better immerse himself in memories.
Memories from a thousand years ago surged like a tide of blood.
╔══════════════════════╗
📘 Want more?
Join me on Patreon for bonus chapters
and early access!
🔗 https://www.patreon.com/cw/OverlordD
╚══════════════════════╝