For the development of the non-physical world, Sōjun Minamoto followed his own pace, advancing step by step.
He wasn't in a rush, and progress wasn't exactly slow either.
After all, with one month outside equating to ten years inside, the pace of development depended entirely on which side he chose to stay on.
During this time, he mainly focused on building up the non-physical world and spent most of his time there. Every thirty years, he would return to the outside world for a brief stay.
This repeated exposure to the time disparity had caused him to age at an accelerated rate, and mentally, it placed immense pressure on him.
But it wasn't without benefit—his Mahoraga markings had begun to interpret the power of time itself, showing the faintest signs of adaptation.
He never sought immortality, yet now found himself edging toward it. If Tengen found out, he'd probably be too stunned to speak.
Even Projection Sorcery had advanced another step.
...
One day,
Sōjun Minamoto once again stepped out from the non-physical world. His expression was weary, though his appearance remained unchanged.
His looks had long been fixed at around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old.
He hadn't even reached that age in the real world.
Thinking it over, he realized keeping track of his actual age had become difficult. Was he twenty-three now? Or twenty-four?
He wasn't quite sure anymore.
Altogether, he'd spent close to 240 years—on and off—in the non-physical world.
In reality, only two years had passed.
Sōjun slumped onto the sofa, letting his mind catch up with the time shift. After a short pause, he finally managed to settle the internal dissonance.
Then, he got up and decided to head out.
He opened the front door, walked through a few blocks, and arrived at a small park.
On a bench inside the park, a boy was already waiting—around his neck hung a ring strung with black cord.
Seeing him, Sōjun's expression softened. He hadn't expected a casual decision from the past to become the anchor that brought him back to reality.
The anchor wasn't necessary, but it certainly saved him a lot of time.
He walked over, looked at Yuta Okkotsu, reached into a spatial fold, and pulled out a notebook with a smile.
"Here. The final one."
He handed it over.
Yuta's face lit up the moment he saw him. He quickly took the notebook with both hands, instinctively flipping to the front page. On the inside cover, the title read:
[New Edition: Advanced Jujutsu Learning Guide (Vol. 2)]
He froze for a moment.
Sōjun sat down on the bench beside him, completely ignoring Rika, who bared her teeth in an exaggerated grin.
Nine volumes, spread across two years—Yuta was nearly finished with them all.
Truthfully, he could have learned even faster in the later stages, but Sōjun kept him at a steady pace, not disrupting the rhythm. Later on, he began incorporating Taijutsu and swordsmanship lessons, sometimes taking Yuta to exorcise Cursed Spirits for real-world experience.
Yuta was exceptionally talented. His awakened technique suited him perfectly. It might seem ordinary to others, but with his vast reserves of Cursed Energy, it became incredibly powerful—
[Copy Cursed Technique].
As the name implies, it allowed him to replicate another sorcerer's technique through contact, once he understood it to a sufficient degree.
It sounded overpowered, but the activation conditions were quite complex. More importantly, it required an immense amount of Cursed Energy.
Immense.
The number of techniques he could copy, and how much of their original power he could replicate—all of it depended on his Cursed Energy reserves.
For most, being able to copy a single technique was the limit, and even then, producing half its original output would be considered a success.
But Yuta was different. This technique was a perfect fit for him.
Sōjun had once intentionally cooperated, allowing Yuta to successfully replicate his body and Cursed Energy manipulation technique.
Unfortunately, Yuta lacked affinity with the soul and couldn't control it.
Even the copied technique couldn't achieve perfect manipulation of the body or Cursed Energy.
He was a genius—but Sōjun Minamoto was something else entirely.
…
Yuta Okkotsu sat in silence, and Sōjun Minamoto could easily tell why. He didn't press, instead turning his attention to Rika, who was glaring at him intensely.
Rika had grown to nearly half the height of a person—about level with Yuta Okkotsu—and her unleashed power was steadily increasing.
She was always itching to go after Sōjun Minamoto. No matter how many times they met, her urge to hurt him never faded—in fact, it seemed to grow stronger each time.
If Rika had to list the people she hated most, her grandmother would be number one. As for second place, it bounced between Sōjun Minamoto and Yuta Okkotsu's sister, depending on who was present. After them came anyone else who got too close to Yuta Okkotsu.
But lately, Sōjun Minamoto seemed to have a firm hold on second place.
Rika didn't let go of grudges.
He didn't mind. In fact, he gave her a slight smirk, which immediately caused her Cursed Energy to ripple with unrest.
"Can I still come to you with questions after this?" Yuta Okkotsu held Rika back, tucked the notebook into his coat, and looked up.
"Sensei."
"Of course. Just don't forget to return that notebook," Sōjun Minamoto said, smiling as he teased.
Yuta Okkotsu gave a faint smile in response.
To this day, he didn't know where his teacher lived. All he really knew was his name—Sōjun Minamoto.
Nothing more.
Every time they met, Sōjun Minamoto's eyes were closed, his expression unreadable. Yet Yuta Okkotsu could still sense the heaviness in him, a kind of weariness beyond his age.
He glanced at Minamoto again.
Maybe he stared too long—Sōjun turned his head toward him, and Yuta Okkotsu quickly looked away, his face flushing with embarrassment.
He was a little frustrated with himself.
There were times he wanted to invite his teacher over, but the fear of being turned down—of ruining the relationship—held him back.
It wasn't about losing a mentor.
Growing up in a fractured home had made Yuta Okkotsu especially sensitive to emotional bonds. He cherished them deeply.
He felt a sting in his chest. Junior high was almost over, he'd worked through book after book... and yet, he still hadn't said what he really wanted to say. His gratitude remained unspoken.
He had to say it. At least once.
"Sensei, after I finish this book, can I still come find you if I have questions?" he asked, firm in his resolve.
"Of course," Sōjun Minamoto replied without hesitation.
He could see the turmoil in Yuta Okkotsu, knew his quiet nature wasn't weakness, just a reserved personality.
Sometimes that came off as timidity, but Sōjun knew better—Yuta Okkotsu had no shortage of courage or determination.
Just like in the beginning, when he had mustered the nerve to ask for guidance... and then spent months building up the courage to say thank you face-to-face.
Hearing Minamoto's answer, Yuta Okkotsu suppressed his joy and added,
"Sensei, would you like to come over to my house? My sister really wants to meet you and thank you in person."
Hmm?
Sōjun was briefly puzzled, but didn't think much of it. "Sure. I happen to have something I want to give you."
Yuta Okkotsu lit up and jumped to his feet.
Sōjun Minamoto let out a small laugh.
...
The two made their way toward Yuta Okkotsu's home.
Along the way, Yuta Okkotsu was noticeably excited. It was one of the rare times when a bit of childish energy peeked through his usually composed demeanor.
"It's just my sister and me at home... our parents are divorced... they send living expenses each month..."
He laid out his family situation along the walk. While the story sounded a little bleak, Yuta Okkotsu himself seemed genuinely upbeat.
After a while, they arrived near his home—a good distance from the park.
Sōjun Minamoto glanced around. The neighborhood was a little dated, quiet and sparsely populated.
Finally, Yuta Okkotsu stopped in front of a small residential building. The outer walls were worn, with faint marks where moss had been scraped away.
He led them up to the second floor, stopping at the very end of the hallway.
"This is my place," he said, glancing back as he knocked on the door.
Sōjun Minamoto gave a small nod in response.
Footsteps approached from within. The door clicked open a sliver, and a shadowed face peeked out.
Recognizing Yuta Okkotsu, the girl opened the door wider and quickly noticed the person beside him.
"This is my sister," Yuta Okkotsu said.
She nodded politely in greeting.
"Please, come in, Sensei."
Yuta Okkotsu guided him inside.
The room was a modest studio with a small balcony. On either side were a bathroom and a cramped kitchen setup.
Despite the limited space, it was tidy. A small table sat beside the bed, serving as their makeshift living room. Today, they were hosting their first guest.
Sōjun Minamoto's frame felt a bit cramped in the small room.
He didn't mind, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Yuta Okkotsu's sister brought tea and some snacks, then sat down as well.
The three of them sat together in quiet company.
Sōjun Minamoto wasn't sure if the sister knew about the Jujutsu world, so he hesitated to bring out the item he'd prepared.
After all, showing up at someone's house and gifting a sword wasn't exactly standard etiquette.
But she spoke first. Looking at Sōjun Minamoto, she said, "Thank you for taking care of my brother all this time."
"He's never had many friends, and after... everything happened, he's been scared to connect with anyone. At one point, he even ran away from home because he thought he might hurt me..."
She trailed off, shooting a glare at Yuta.
Yuta scratched his head in embarrassment.
"Thank you very much for helping him," she said, bowing slightly. Yuta Okkotsu followed her lead.
Sōjun Minamoto understood now.
With a casual wave, he reached into the void and pulled out a long, cloth-wrapped item.
He placed it on the table and said, "Here. Consider it an early graduation gift."
Inside was a long samurai sword, simply bundled in fabric. The cloth bag had just been purchased by one of his clones earlier—otherwise, he really would've pulled out just a bare sword.
He had noticed earlier in the room: Yuta Okkotsu was about to graduate elementary school.
This gift was to celebrate both that milestone and the completion of his foundational training in Jujutsu.
...
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