Only a few seconds had passed since Sōjun Minamoto finished his fight with the Zenin Clan's guy—whatever his name was.
It had all happened so fast.
Their clash, measured in seconds, began quickly and ended just as fast.
No one else even had time to react.
All they heard was a sudden burst of maniacal laughter.
When they turned around, they saw the young man being held aloft by Sōjun Minamoto, his feet dangling off the ground, swaying slightly like a rag doll.
The sight was almost comical. The size difference between the two was so stark that Sōjun Minamoto lifting him effortlessly by one hand only made the young man look more ridiculous.
He probably had to jump just to graze Sōjun Minamoto's face with that first attack.
Suguru Geto walked over.
As a powerful sorcerer himself, he understood the implications better than most. When a fight between sorcerers ends this quickly, it means the risk level was sky-high.
He glanced at Sōjun Minamoto, who gave a slight shake of his head—no big deal.
In the Jujutsu world, there was no such thing as sensing your opponent's power with a quick sweep of spiritual perception.
All existing grades were human-made distinctions.
That's why there was a saying—unless they actually fight, you'll never truly know who's stronger.
The most common trait among sorcerers was the belief: "I'm unbeatable. I'm the strongest."
Those under Grade 2 might still have a little restraint. But above that? All bets were off. The higher the rank, the more unhinged the arrogance became.
If they won, it proved they were right—they really were invincible. If they lost, so what? They were dead. Whatever happened afterward had nothing to do with them.
So yes, "undefeated in life" was a fitting motto.
It all came down to a lack of awareness and a blatant disregard for life—whether their own or others'. Nothing mattered.
If they didn't even value their own life, how could they care about anything else?
Sōjun Minamoto let go with his right hand and prepared to deal with the fresh corpse.
The middle-aged man approached with his usual gentle expression.
"Ah... there was no need for this," he said with a sigh. "How did things escalate this far?"
He glanced briefly at the body.
"This one?"
"I'll give him a proper burial. Find him a nice place to rest." Sōjun Minamoto flashed a row of clean, white teeth.
"Well... that's fine, then." The man didn't press the matter and turned to handle other business.
Honestly, Sōjun Minamoto didn't mind if another one came at him.
"This really wasn't necessary," the man repeated again before leaving, his voice trailing off as if he were speaking more to the Jujutsu High support staff than to Sōjun Minamoto.
Sōjun Minamoto didn't bother to respond.
Instead, he transformed the young man's Projection Sorcery into a black-lined motif on his arm—an abstract timeline etched into his skin. A rectangular grid, evenly divided into 24 sections, with a long hand frozen at the center of the final segment.
He stared at the pattern, then nodded, satisfied.
In the Jujutsu world, time-based techniques were extremely rare. Sōjun Minamoto had always felt they were slightly overpowered. He'd hoped to run into one or two during his exorcism work, but if not, that was fine too.
After all, the Zenin Clan would show up eventually.
He just hadn't expected them to be this eager to deliver one to his doorstep.
Seeing how the young man had clearly wanted to touch him but lacked the courage—Sōjun Minamoto figured, why not fulfill that wish? Fusion was even better.
Now, he had both space and time.
Time reigns supreme, space holds dominion. If fate doesn't step in, then karma takes the throne...
The Jujutsu world offered a wide range of attributes, and Sōjun Minamoto had been hoping to piece together techniques aligned with the ones he favored most.
Even if none of them represented a pure embodiment of a concept—Projection Sorcery, for example, only touched on a small aspect of time—he only needed that small piece. Just enough to serve as a foundation. The rest would be up to him to develop.
Sōjun Minamoto brought his thoughts back.
This Aragami incident had been an absolute windfall.
His Innate Technique could already be activated through physical contact, which made those familiar with his abilities avoid touching him at all costs.
Now, with Projection Sorcery added to his arsenal, he could forcibly control his opponents with just a touch. With the right setup, a single second of being turned into a "paper cutout" left him with endless possibilities.
And since the strength of the technique depended on mass and speed, even if Spatial Flash couldn't be used in that framework yet, his natural speed was more than sufficient.
Not to mention—when it came to mass—he had ways to tweak that, too.
Who would dare make contact with him after this?
And if you couldn't make contact, how were you supposed to fight him?
The more someone understood his techniques, the more they'd instinctively avoid him.
Before a fight even began, he'd already secured the upper hand.
Truthfully, most of his technique intel had never been fully revealed. He rarely used assimilated techniques in front of others.
And when he did, the opponent usually never got the chance to talk about it.
He'd also never once disclosed his techniques publicly.
So the secrecy was rock solid. Even if someone managed to guess a piece of the puzzle, they wouldn't be distracted enough to account for it during battle.
That'd be suicide.
...
With the support staff's help, the village chief and his wife were able to give the villagers a proper resting place.
Whether or not they themselves felt peace beneath that same root was another question.
But it had nothing to do with Sōjun Minamoto.
The two came over and shook hands with him and Suguru Geto.
"Thank you both..."
Suguru Geto started to shake his head, about to say something, but the village chief cut in.
"We can tell—they've only been this dedicated because of you two."
He glanced around, then leaned close to Sōjun Minamoto and covered his mouth with one hand, whispering:
"Be careful of that man."
He threw a glance toward the middle-aged man. "That guy's no good. I've lived long enough to spot a smiling tiger when I see one. People like him wear one face in public and another in private. You be careful, alright?"
Sōjun Minamoto nodded, clasping the man's hands in return. "I understand. You take care too."
At this point, people like the village chief were probably the only ones still willing to shake his hand without hesitation.
Honestly, during handshakes, he rarely had any ulterior motives.
People just misunderstood him too deeply.
Seeing that he understood, the chief didn't say much more.
His wife patted Suguru Geto on the shoulder, then gave his forearm a firm squeeze with a hearty laugh.
"You need to eat more, boy! Eat well if you want the strength to exorcise demons. Look at that one over there." She pointed at Sōjun Minamoto. "Tall, broad-shouldered, eats a lot, strong as an ox."
Suguru Geto blinked. He thought he was pretty tall and sturdy too... Then he heard her follow up with:
"You, though, think too much. Like a woman. Sometimes, you should learn from that one—he's carefree, no thoughts, no worries. That's the way to live."
Huh?
Sōjun Minamoto blinked.
Wait, was "that one" supposed to be me?
"Alright, we'll be heading out now." The village chief gave both of them a firm pat on the shoulder, then turned to follow the assistant supervisor.
Sōjun Minamoto and Suguru Geto walked to the village's edge, waving as they watched the pair get into a car and disappear down the road.
Where they were headed, neither of them knew.
The middle-aged man approached with a gentle smile.
"Need a ride back to Jujutsu High?"
"No need, we drove ourselves." Sōjun Minamoto smiled politely and extended a hand. "Thanks for coming all the way out so early to help."
The man was caught off guard. He looked at the offered hand, then at Sōjun Minamoto.
After a brief pause, he shook it.
They let go, and parted ways.
Sōjun Minamoto smiled to himself.
See? Told you—I wasn't planning anything.
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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