The training ground of the Tokyo Jujutsu High looked a little empty under the midday sun.
The rubber track was slightly hot, and the air was filled with the smell of grass and dust. In the distance, a specially made training dummy stood quietly, covered in old and new marks of impact—punches, kicks, knife wounds, and burn marks from cursed energy.
"Hah—!"
A cry broke the silence.
Zen'in Maki gripped a long staff in both hands, her body lowered like a cheetah, and her legs suddenly pushed off. The rubber track made a slight cracking sound under her feet, and her figure instantly shot ten meters forward. The staff, wrapped in a wind-tearing sound, slammed into the dummy's chest.
Bang!
A dull sound echoed. Most of the dummy's chest caved in, but the internal structure quickly adjusted, and the dent began to heal at a visible speed as cursed energy flowed.
Maki withdrew the staff, stepped back two steps, and took a deep breath. Sweat dripped from the tips of her ponytail, leaving small water spots on the rubber floor.
She was wearing the black Technical College uniform, but due to training, her jacket had long been taken off and thrown aside. She only had a tight black sports vest on, revealing her well-defined arms and shoulders.
"Not bad, Maki!" Panda walked over from the sideline.
His round body left paw prints on the track, and he was holding two bottles of sports drinks. "The power of that strike is three points stronger than last week. At this rate, once you fully adapt to your body, you might be able to take on Grade 1 cursed spirits directly."
Maki took a drink, unscrewed the cap, and took a big gulp. The cool liquid slid down her throat, cooling the heat of training. She wiped her mouth and glanced at Panda.
"I'm still far from that," she said in a slightly muffled voice. "I'm still a Pacific Ocean away from Mr. Toji's level."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Panda sat down next to her—though for a panda, "sitting" was more like sprawling. "You're only seventeen. Toji Fushiguro was in his twenties when he made a name for himself. And…"
He paused, a hesitant expression on his fluffy face.
Maki raised an eyebrow. "And what?"
"And," Panda said carefully, "you and Mai… are different from those two adults."
Maki's hand holding the drink bottle tightened. She didn't speak, just stared at the dummy in the distance, her eyes complex.
At that moment, an explosion came from the training ground on the other side.
It wasn't a real explosion, but the shockwave from a violent collision of cursed energy. The air twisted for a moment, faint electric sparks flickered in the sunlight, then disappeared.
Megumi Fushiguro lowered his hand. The dummy in front of him had a burned hole in its chest, the edges still crackling with faint electric current. He was breathing heavily, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead—the "Thunderclap Flash" he had just used had consumed a lot of his energy.
"Nice, Fushiguro!" Nobara Kugisaki jumped up from the resting area beside him, her short orange hair fluttering like flames in the sun. "That move was much faster than last time! The hand seal took only two seconds, right?"
"One point eight seconds," Megumi corrected, wiping his sweat. "But it's still not enough. Gojo-sensei said that in a real fight, the enemy won't give you even two seconds to form a seal."
"Take your time practicing," Nobara waved her hand casually, pulling out her nails and hammer—her cursed tool—from her pocket. "Anyway, with me here, I can cover you even if we encounter danger… Hey! Itadori! What are you doing!"
On the edge of the training ground, Yuji Itadori was crouching on the ground, staring blankly at his palm. Hearing Nobara's shout, he suddenly snapped out of it and scratched his short pink hair.
"Ah, sorry, sorry," he stood up and smiled broadly. "I was just thinking… acquired techniques are really hard. I've been practicing for three days and can barely cover my fist with cursed energy, and you guys can already use attribute changes, Fushiguro."
"That's because I have the foundation of the Ten Shadows Technique," Megumi walked aside and picked up his water bottle. "The Ten Shadows Technique has high demands for cursed energy control. I've been practicing it since I was a child. You've only been exposed to jujutsu for a few days. Being able to control the emission of cursed energy is already good."
"But it's still too slow…" Itadori muttered, clenching his fists. A pale blue cursed energy appeared in his palm, but it was very unstable, flickering like a candle in the wind.
"Kombu."
A voice suddenly spoke. Not speaking, but… naming a dish?
Everyone turned their heads and saw Toge Inumaki had come over to the side at some point. He was wearing a student uniform, but the collar was pulled up to cover the lower part of his face, revealing only a pair of purple eyes. At that moment, he pointed at Itadori's hand and said again:
"Mentaiko."
"'Tuna' means…" Panda translated—he had worked with Inumaki for a long time and was well-versed in this "rice ball language." "Your cursed energy is flowing too loosely. You need to concentrate more. Imagine you're not 'releasing' cursed energy, but 'wrapping' your fist with it."
"Ah, is that so?" Itadori tried to adjust. He closed his eyes and frowned, as if wrestling with some force within his body.
A few seconds later, the cursed energy in his palm solidified slightly. Although it was still thin, at least it no longer looked like a flame that could go out at any moment.
"I did it!" Itadori opened his eyes excitedly.
"Salmon," Inumaki said, a glint of approval in his purple eyes.
The training session ended for the time being. The five people—or rather, four people and a panda—gathered in the shade of a tree on the sideline to rest. The May sun was already very strong, making the benches in the shade particularly valuable.
"By the way," Nobara unscrewed her water bottle, took a big gulp, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "About those exchange students Gojo-sensei mentioned yesterday… when are they coming?"
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
Everyone remembered the news Satoru Gojo had announced yesterday afternoon, while nibbling on a sweet on the edge of the training ground, as casually as saying "the weather is nice today":
"Three exchange students are coming to the college next week. One of them is Eriri Sawamura, an ordinary high school girl, but she can summon Zen'in Genji—yes, that Zen'in Genji. The other two are her classmates, Utaha Kasumigaoka and Megumi Kato. Both are ordinary people, but interested in jujutsu. They will only attend cultural classes and basic training, and will not participate in actual combat missions. That's it. See ya~"
After saying that, he teleported away, leaving a group of petrified students on the training ground.
"Zen'in Genji…" Itadori repeated the name in a low voice, his expression a little subtle. The "tenant" inside his body had an extremely brief emotional fluctuation when he heard this name—not anger, not hostility, but… an almost trembling excitement.
"She's just an ordinary high school student," Panda touched his chin—if he had a chin. "But she can summon that adult. That alone might qualify her as a special-grade sorcerer, like Yuta."
"No," Megumi Fushiguro answered calmly. "The criteria for evaluating a special-grade sorcerer are not only 'power' but also contribution to the jujutsu world, mission completion rate, and… stability. Sawamura-san has just summoned Lord Zen'in Genji. That doesn't mean she has special-grade power. And she's coming to the college to study, not to take on missions."
"But the very ability to summon that adult is outrageous," Nobara said, her eyes shining. "Think about it, he's the 'god' of the Heian period! A monster that even Sukuna couldn't beat! If he teaches us a few tricks…"
"Pickled radish," Inumaki suddenly said.
"Thorn is right," Panda translated. "We don't know if that adult will teach us. And…"
He paused and looked at Maki, who had been silent.
Zen'in Maki sat at the other end of the bench, her hands folded on her knees, her chin resting on her arms. She wasn't participating in the discussion, just blankly staring at the ants on the ground. But her pressed lips and slightly furrowed brows showed that she was not at peace.
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