Everyone here is a talent, and they speak so nicely

"Stop, stop, stop, stop—"

Masamichi Yaga did not give Akesato a chance to finish. The small amount of goodwill born from their joint beating of Satoru Gojo immediately plummeted.

He had thought this was a rare serious young man, but unexpectedly, Akesato was fundamentally no different from that guy Gojo. Wasn't Gojo already laughing out loud and giving him a thumbs-up?

"You should talk about the Gojo version... uh..."

No, that was a trap too.

He had been careless and failed to dodge, giving Akesato a second chance to perform.

"The Gojo version goes—Jujutsu High feels way better than outside. Everyone here is talented, and they all speak so nicely. I totally love it here."

"Hahahaha." Satoru Gojo was already clutching his stomach with laughter. "That is something I'd say. My ideal Jujutsu world should be like this."

Unexpectedly, those words overflowing with Gojo's style did not anger Masamichi Yaga. Instead, he asked Akesato seriously, "Do you really think so?"

"Half and half. I truly dislike the current Jujutsu world. As for the other half, it's a practical consideration. My individual strength is insufficient, so I need to rely on the strength of a group and an organization. Jujutsu High is the most reassuring and safest place I can think of. In return, I will contribute my strength to the organization."

"Words are not enough to demonstrate resolve."

Masamichi Yaga raised one hand, cursed energy flowing around him.

"Playful Panda, get behind Teacher Gojo."

Akesato first gave the command to the still-weak Pokémon, then raised a hand as well.

"Please instruct me, Principal."

With a sweep of Masamichi Yaga's large hand, the various dolls placed around him began to move one after another.

Wolves, tigers, leopards, birds, beasts, insects, fish—some humanoid, some animal-like. Every type was present, yet their style was surprisingly uniform: ugly at first glance, but a little cute upon closer inspection. In short, they were ugly-cute, completely at odds with the principal's burly appearance.

However, neither cursed techniques nor Jujutsu Sorcerers could ever be judged by appearances alone.

"As you can see, I am a Cursed Corpse Master. By artificially imbuing inanimate objects with curses, I can make them move independently."

A standard "Cursed Spirit Revelation."

In exchange for revealing information, the Cursed Corpses' cursed energy and movements received a further boost.

The moment he finished speaking, two short, stout green radish-man dolls suddenly accelerated and charged at Akesato.

Akesato did not dare let his guard down. Masamichi Yaga before him was Japan's foremost expert in puppet curse techniques, a powerhouse most skilled at ganging up on opponents. He was far beyond any wild Cursed Spirit.

The two dolls did not seem particularly remarkable, nor was their cursed energy obvious. Yet neither their speed nor strength could be underestimated. A lower-Level Cursed Spirit would be knocked flat in a single hit.

He threw punches with both hands. Leveraging his height and reach, he sent the dolls flying first—but there was not the slightest joy on Akesato's face.

The Cursed Corpses' bodies were specially made dolls crafted by Masamichi Yaga. Their soft, elastic padding could dissipate the force of punches and cursed energy to the greatest extent possible.

Combined with their dozens-to-one numerical advantage, Akesato knew that relying on hand-to-hand combat alone was far too weak.

Masamichi Yaga's swarming tactics were more than a level above the tide of female ghosts at Yoshiwara Shrine.

Fortunately, he was not fighting alone.

In the gap between repelling the first wave and the arrival of the second, a figure in white drifted gracefully into view.

Psychic Queen Gardevoir made her dashing entrance.

Psychic Power surged forth like crashing waves, flinging every nearby Cursed Corpse into the walls and leaving a huge crater in the center of the reception room.

The Cursed Corpses displayed their exceptional resilience once more. They shook their bodies and continued their assault. Their movements were monotonous, but there were simply too many of them, and they could take a beating.

After several attempts, Gardevoir found that the results were minimal and immediately changed tactics. She switched from slamming them away to twisting them, wringing the nearest snake doll into a pretzel.

But this technique, which had always worked against Cursed Spirits, still had little effect. They were dolls—their bodies were soft, and they only possessed strength because of the curses and cursed energy within them.

A perfect example of balancing softness and hardness, Akesato silently assessed.

"Gardevoir?"

After failing twice, Gardevoir instinctively looked toward her master.

Akesato circled a finger beside his temple and said softly, "Keep it up. You can do it."

"Gardevoir."

Though she had not received an order, her master's trust still rekindled her fighting spirit.

She changed strategies once more, temporarily abandoning the fast offensive approach of crushing them with Psychic. Instead, she condensed and focused it into a protective barrier, allowing dozens of Cursed Corpses to strike it nonstop with loud thuds while she remained utterly unmoved.

This was not giving up and merely taking hits without fighting back. She was observing, searching for the Cursed Corpses' weakness.

And upon closer inspection, she truly noticed something.

Inside each of these Cursed Corpses was a spot that made her especially uncomfortable, like a block of trash formed from countless filthy things gathered together.

She remembered her master's teachings.

Jujutsu Sorcerers, Cursed Spirits, cursed tools—everything rested upon curses. Curses were collections of negative emotions, the things you hated most. Without them, none of the above could exist.

Let's try it.

The red ornament on Gardevoir's chest bloomed with light. Her Psychic Power condensed and focused further, then, following Gardevoir's raised hand, poured into the place she hated most like an invisible nail.

In the next instant, the cursed corpse that had been violently pounding the barrier stiffened, then collapsed limply to the floor, unable to move.

"Good job," Akesato praised.

Artificial cursed corpses possessed a core like a human heart that served as their source of cursed energy. As long as the heart was destroyed, the cursed corpse was nothing more than an ordinary doll.

Without anyone directing her, Gardevoir had found the cursed corpse's weakness through her own observations. That meant her understanding of battle had risen to another level.

If they had not been in the middle of a fight, Akesato would have used his ultimate move, "Kiss Hug Lift."

Having received her master's praise, Gardevoir grew even more excited.

"Gardevoir~ Gardevoir~"

With every word, a kill; with every raised hand, a nail pierced a core.

Within minutes, every cursed corpse in the surrounding area had fallen.

Seeing this, Masamichi Yaga finally waved his hand a second time, and the cursed corpses around the perimeter stopped moving as well—Gardevoir was only 1.6 meters tall and even slimmer than Satoru Gojo. Her contact area was limited, unlike a Cursed Spirit with no restrictions on size.

"Let's stop here."

"Thank you for going easy on us, Principal. You haven't used anything close to your full strength."

Akesato knew perfectly well that the cursed corpses in the room had all been casually made by Masamichi Yaga. He had not brought out any of his true masterpieces.

The Principal himself had not made a move either. Looking at those bulging muscles and his surging, refined cursed energy, Akesato would be the first not to believe that he knew nothing about close combat.

At that, Masamichi Yaga tugged at the flesh on his face. "Aren't you the same? You've been on guard against me this whole time."

Just as he said, that was the real reason Akesato had not acted or directly commanded Gardevoir.

This was a test, not a fight to the death.

They both used pet-handler builds. The more either of them did personally, the more they lost.

"So, did I pass?"

"You passed." Masamichi Yaga nodded slightly. "If Gojo hadn't said you were lacking in the area of jujutsu, I would have hired you as a teacher at the high school."

Akesato's expression remained unchanged, but his hands quietly clenched.

Masamichi Yaga's words were both an acknowledgment of him and the Jujutsu Alliance's first official assessment of his strength.

Eight years of endurance and eight years of effort had all been worth it.

After calming himself slightly, Akesato said, "How about a compromise? Student as my main job, Assistant Teacher as a side job?"

"I see, so you had that up your sleeve. Please do exactly that. Then I can finally dump a lot of things on you openly."

The skies had cleared, the rain had stopped, and Satoru Gojo felt like he could do it again.

But this time, neither Masamichi Yaga nor Akesato had any objections.

Because the Jujutsu world was desperately short on people.

There were too few students and even fewer teachers. They were short-staffed everywhere. If they were not, why would first-year students be sent straight into real combat?

Aside from the Principal, Tokyo High School had only two teachers. Even counting those out on internships, suspended from school, or overseas, the number of students had only barely exceeded ten.

And as the strongest, Satoru Gojo's workload was directly proportional to his strength.

Teaching, taking missions, managing the Gojo family, considering reforms for the Jujutsu world, and recruiting students everywhere—he truly woke earlier than a chicken and slept later than one. Fortunately, his jujutsu was special and his talent exceptional, or he would have died from overwork long ago.

"Then it's settled." Masamichi Yaga made the decision. "Gojo will mainly be responsible for the lower years, while you'll start with the first-years. When Gojo isn't around, you'll take charge. Focus mainly on practical combat and hand-to-hand fighting; leave the jujutsu side to Gojo—"

"If you don't mind, I can help as well."

An unexpected voice rang out.