The faint aroma of red wine and the light scent of plants in the room seemed to freeze with the words Kenjaku calmly entrusted. Like the most patient historian, he was unveiling a corner of a dusty epic for these "descendants" born in the modern era who only had a vague idea of the terror a thousand years ago.
"As for the composition of Zen'in Genji's power, there is basic information classified as top secret by the Jujutsu Headquarters. Even within his own clan, only a few words are circulated," Kenjaku's fingertips lightly tapped the table, his eyes beneath the stitches as deep as an ancient well. "He has two innate techniques."
"Two?!"
Jogo was the first to erupt. His crater-like head suddenly spewed a cluster of scorching sparks, his single eye wide open, his lava body glowing slightly with shock. "That's impossible! Whether a person or a cursed spirit, the soul and core can only bear one kind of technique imprint—that's an iron rule! It's a fundamental law of cursed energy!"
"Zen'in Genji is not an only child. He has an identical twin brother—Zen'in Sei."
"A brother?" Jogo couldn't make the connection. What did that have to do with two techniques?
"This younger brother, Zen'in Sei, was born with a 'Heavenly Restriction'—zero cursed energy, in exchange for supreme physical strength," Kenjaku continued, each word like piecing together a bizarre map of a life. "And in the mother's womb, at the very beginning of soul and body separation, a… robbery occurred. The stronger soul, unconsciously or instinctively, absorbed, assimilated, and seized the 'cursed energy foundation' of its fraternal twin."
"This resulted in the younger brother becoming a Heavenly Restriction user with absolutely no cursed energy."
Pin-drop silence filled the room, only the gurgling sound of magma flowing within Jogo.
"This cursed energy, from a blood relative, of the same origin but completely different in nature, like the most dominant dye, seeped into the soul and technique circuit of the not-yet-fully-formed Zen'in Genji," Kenjaku painted a forbidden picture of the embryo. "Not only did it not cause rejection, but next to the sun of the 'Ten Shadows Technique,' another faint star was born—a second innate technique imprint: [Construction Technique]."
"[Construction Technique]?" Jogo repeated, a flicker of doubt in his huge single eye, which then turned to disdain. "Judging by the name… isn't it just something that creates something? Creates a cursed tool? Or builds stone walls? It sounds… so ordinary."
"Ordinary?" This time, Kenjaku didn't sneer. He slightly shook his head, his eyes like a frog at the bottom of a well unable to comprehend the vastness of the starry sky. "Jogo, you are making the biggest mistake—using the 'name of a technique' and its 'general effect' to measure an existence at the very top."
He leaned forward slightly, the candlelight hitting his face.
"Yes, in the hands of 99% of sorcerers, 'Construction Technique' might mean creating a fragile weapon, building a makeshift shelter, better than nothing, or reproducing simple everyday items. That is indeed 'ordinary.'"
"But in the hands of Zen'in Genji…"
For the first time, Kenjaku's voice carried a clear, undisguised complexity of emotion—a mixture of deep fear and almost admiration.
"It's not useless. One could even say that [Construction Technique] in the hands of Zen'in Genji truly shone with a revolutionary light that could shake an entire era."
"The essence of Zen'in Genji's [Construction Technique] is 'understanding' and 'reproduction.' When he deeply understands the atomic structure of matter, the laws of energy flow, and even the workings of a certain 'concept' or 'rule'…"
Kenjaku's voice was like an ice pick, carving into the silence:
"He can 'construct' it out of thin air. This is not imitation. This is true 'creation' from nothing."
---
"What about Sukuna?"
"What are the chances of winning by drawing Sukuna into our camp?"
This question once again focused the attention in the room. Hanami's silhouette remained silent. Dagon's water surface was calm. Mahito's heterochromatic eyes sparkled with interest in evaluating the "possibility of soul collaboration."
Kenjaku didn't answer immediately. He leaned back into the shadow of the high-backed chair, the knuckle of his index finger gently pressing against the stitch on his forehead, as if touching the wisdom and cunning accumulated over a thousand years. The candlelight alternated light and dark on his face, making his thoughts particularly profound.
After a long time, he slowly spoke, his voice calm but final:
"It's meaningless."
"Meaningless?" More sparks erupted from Jogo's crater, his voice displeased. "He's the King of Curses! If he could join us to deal with Satoru Gojo and those various annoyances in the jujutsu world, wouldn't it be easy?"
"Deal with Satoru Gojo?" The corners of Kenjaku's lips lifted in a very faint, almost mocking arc. "Yes, if it's just for Satoru Gojo, Sukuna is indeed a trump card that could contend with him, and perhaps even gain the upper hand. They are monsters of the same magnitude, and victory or defeat might be within a hair's breadth."
He changed tack, his eyes piercing Jogo like an ice pick, also sweeping past the other cursed spirits:
"But what then? Are you going to use Sukuna to deal with Zen'in Genji?"
Kenjaku slightly shook his head, a gesture full of denial of Jogo's naive thoughts.
"Sukuna's chances of winning against Zen'in Genji are extremely low."
"Extremely low."
"This is not my speculation. It is a fact repeatedly proven by a thousand years of history."
"Sukuna is very strong. Strong enough to dominate an entire era—if not for Zen'in Genji. But as it happens, Zen'in Genji existed in that era. Therefore, Sukuna has always held the 'second' position throughout his life, never surpassing him."
"His obsession with Zen'in Genji is not so much hatred as… a regret that cannot be found. A hunger and thirst to fight with all his might against his only opponent."
"Such a relationship cannot be broken or exploited by simple 'camps' and 'interests.'"
He paused, as if contemplating a thousand-year-old chessboard, his voice low:
"Sukuna's goal has always been only one—Zen'in Genji. He awakened because he felt Genji's revival. He exists as if to be Genji's comparison and opponent. You want to win him over? He might mock your plan 'to get rid of more ants (ordinary people)' and even find it boring. In his eyes, there is only the peak he pursued for a thousand years and never surpassed. Us? We might not even be worthy of being an 'obstacle' in his eyes, just pebbles on the roadside."
Silence fell over the room. The lava inside Jogo seemed to cool slightly. He understood the meaning of Kenjaku's words: Sukuna was a sharp but uncontrollable demonic blade, its tip always pointed at only one person.
What Kenjaku didn't say was that deep within his thousand years of knowledge and profound understanding of the "world balance" mechanism, there was a darker speculation:
A thousand years had passed.
During the thousand years that Genji slept, the barrier he left behind suppressed the overall level of cursed spirits, but the law of balance always operated silently. The mere fact that a person, a sorcerer regarded as a "god," once again "existed" in this world was like a boulder thrown into a lake of cursed energy, inevitably causing unprecedented ripples and whirlpools corresponding to his "weight."
To balance Genji's existence in this world, the depths of this source of cursed energy were probably already… quietly gestating in the shadows, unnoticed by anyone. To "match" him, or even "restrain" him, it was hard to imagine the form and power of such a "monster."
It might be a cursed spirit. It might be a phenomenon. It might be a rule. But its birth would inevitably be closely tied to the awakening of Zen'in Genji—an instinctive counterattack by the world to maintain "balance." This was a more uncontrollable and pulsating variable than Sukuna.
Of course, these thoughts only swirled in the depths of Kenjaku's consciousness and were not shared. Some fears, some anticipations, some mad speculations about the nature of the world—one simply needed to know that this was enough to be the deepest crack in the layout, or the highest risk to be avoided.
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