The Domain's Effect

Early autumn sunlight filtered through the half-open blinds of the hospital room, cutting parallel bands of light and shadow across the white sheets. The smell of disinfectant mingled with a faint trace of blood, forming the medical room's distinctive scent.

Feng sat propped against the soft pillows of his hospital bed, dressed in a loose hospital gown.

Layers of medical bandages wrapped his left shoulder and chest, with faint traces of ointment showing through.

His right hand, severely contaminated by black cursed residue two days earlier, had now lost its horrifying ashen color, though several lightning-like dark red lines still wound across its surface.

"I see. Those droplets in my domain... although I created them to suppress my targets,

their true function isn't suppression, but washing things away..."

As Feng spoke calmly, he slowly raised his right hand.

A slight distortion rippled through the air.

In the center of his palm, a wisp of pale purple cursed energy, entirely unrelated to Rainfall's water attribute, quietly emerged and flickered like a faint yet eerie ghostly flame.

"Once a target inside the domain has been washed over, it seems I can wash away the cursed technique engraved on them and collect it.

Mahito was probably exposed to it for four or five seconds before he caught on... but some of his cursed energy manipulation was still washed away and recorded by me. And because of that..."

Feng tilted his head slightly, his dark red eyes gazing quietly past the window frame at a little sparrow hopping and perching on a branch outside.

"I can see the contours of the soul and strike it. The effect is very weak, but I can definitely do it.

But I can probably only retain one of these washed-away cursed techniques...

Because, essentially, I'm transferring the engraving of someone else's cursed technique onto the barrier of my own innate domain to use it.

Even setting aside how difficult it is to change a domain's conditions, the effect on the efficiency of my own cursed technique is already a major problem. Right now, retaining one trait still lets me use Rainfall perfectly..."

In the sunlight, his profile looked pale and calm.

Just then, the hospital room door gave a soft click and was pushed open from outside without warning.

A tall, white-haired man strode in, carrying an elegant paper bag bearing the logo of a famous dessert shop.

Almost the instant he opened the door, Satoru Gojo's Six Eyes, hidden beneath his black blindfold, locked precisely onto the faint purple cursed energy in Feng's palm.

"Attaching a stripped cursed technique engraving to the barrier of your innate domain...

I see. That's quite a bold and dangerous setup."

Satoru Gojo set the bag full of daifuku on the bedside table, pulled over a chair, and sat beside the bed, casually crossing his long legs.

He showed no surprise. Instead, like a programmer who had discovered an interesting piece of code, he sounded distinctly intrigued.

"It's like attaching a plugin module of unknown origin to your main program.

Just as you've worked out, forcibly loading multiple plugins wouldn't only trigger rejection from the system. It would also drastically reduce the efficiency of your original Rainfall technique."

Satoru Gojo lightly tapped his long, well-defined fingers against his knee, producing a rhythmic tapping sound.

He leaned forward slightly, facing Feng.

"A single 'storage slot.' That's a very harsh restriction.

Still... it's enough."

A meaningful smile curled at the corners of Satoru Gojo's mouth. He pointed in the direction Feng had been looking.

"Being able to perceive the contours of the soul means you've gained a way to directly kill that kind of special grade cursed spirit.

The next time you run into that patchwork face, your physical attacks, which could previously only cause external injuries, will be able to touch and tear apart his very essence.

That's quite an impressive trophy."

Satoru Gojo lowered his hand and leaned back in his chair, his tone turning light again.

"Shoko says it'll take a few more days for the contamination in your right hand to clear completely. I've already had that imitation sword that swallowed Kurourushi's cursed technique temporarily sealed in the cursed warehouse.

As for Junpei-"

Satoru Gojo paused, a reassuring smile lifting his lips.

"I've already sorted things out with Principal Yaga. Once Junpei's mental state is a little more stable and he's figured out what he wants to do, he can officially enroll.

For now, as a seriously injured patient, your only job is to eat this shop's exclusive Edamame Cream Daifuku and get some proper sleep."

"Why were you eavesdropping on me again, teacher...?"

Feng remained propped against the soft pillows of his hospital bed.

As he spoke helplessly, the pale purple cursed energy gathered in his palm silently dispersed into the air like smoke scattered by the wind.

"The Goodwill Event is about to start, right?

Are we going to keep Itadori's situation a secret, or spring a surprise on everyone?

What about Junpei?"

His right hand, covered in dark red markings, settled back onto the white sheets.

Hearing that exasperated complaint, the man seated beside the bed showed no embarrassment at being caught. Instead, he spread his hands with complete confidence.

"How can you call that eavesdropping?"

Satoru Gojo broke into a brilliant smile, his eyebrows seeming to lift slightly beneath his black blindfold.

"My Six Eyes just happened to pick up an unusual fluctuation of cursed energy on this floor.

As a responsible teacher, of course I had to rush over and check, to make sure my adorable student wasn't losing control of his powers in his hospital room."

As he spoke, he casually reached into the elegant paper bag he had just placed on the bedside table and took out an Edamame Cream Daifuku.

With the crisp rustle of plastic wrapping being torn open, Satoru Gojo shamelessly took a huge bite. Its sweet fragrance instantly spread through the disinfectant-scented room.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds, casting patches of light and shadow over Satoru Gojo's tall frame.

Chewing his dessert, he traced an exaggerated arc through the air with his free hand.

"As for the Goodwill Event, counting the days, it really is coming up soon.

That stubborn old man at Kyoto Jujutsu High is very eager to teach Tokyo Jujutsu High a lesson during the competition."

Satoru Gojo swallowed his mouthful and leaned forward slightly.

He drew a little closer to the hospital bed, his smile gradually widening with a childlike anticipation of mischief.

"Of course Yuji's situation has to be a huge, unforgettable 'surprise' for everyone!

I've already come up with a flawless entrance plan. It'll absolutely move Megumi and Nobara to tears.

You're an accomplice now, so don't spoil it ahead of time."

Will they really be moved to tears, or just worried that an unscrupulous teacher like you is using dark arts to control their classmate's body? Feng silently grumbled.

When it came to the plan to reveal Itadori's return to life, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer had clearly rehearsed his prank countless times in his head.

But when the topic shifted to Junpei Yoshino, his exaggerated gestures grew a little more restrained.

"As for Junpei..."

Satoru Gojo leaned back in his chair, casually crossing his long legs.

Looking at the remaining half of the daifuku in his hand, he spoke with a rare hint of a teacher's seriousness.

"He still needs a little time to process everything.

Although your intervention kept him from making a terrible mistake, being deceived by that disgusting special grade cursed spirit, and nearly hurting his own classmates with his own hands... that's far too much for a high school student who's only just encountered Jujutsu Society."

Satoru Gojo tilted his head slightly, his gaze seeming to reach somewhere farther away through his black blindfold.

"I had Ijichi arrange a safe place for him to stay for now and teach him some basic information while he's at it.

Junpei himself is very determined to get stronger and atone for his moment of recklessness.

He's a promising kid with solid resolve. He's just too quick to take all the blame on himself."

Satoru Gojo popped the last bite of daifuku into his mouth, brushed the white powdered sugar from his hands, and stood.

His tall figure instantly blocked most of the sunlight streaming through the window, casting a faint shadow over the hospital bed.

"By the time the Goodwill Event is over, he should have mostly worked through things. Then he can officially move into the Jujutsu High dorms. So until then-"

Satoru Gojo looked down at Feng, who was leaning against the head of the bed, and reached for the blanket, tugging it up with a force that allowed no refusal.

"You're injured, so be good and stay in bed. If I'm down one fighter who can keep Kyoto Jujutsu High in check at the Goodwill Event, it's going to be a real headache."