The invincible little deer went down again

Early the next morning.

Kashimo sat beside the stream, holding the Barrier Technique scroll he had swiped from the Zenin Clan, his brows knotted together.

He couldn't understand it.

He genuinely couldn't understand it.

With something practical like Falling Blossom Emotion, one read was enough for him to get the gist. But this... the whole thing was full of stuff like "fundamentals of barrier construction," "seven variations in cursed energy flow," and "the theoretical basis of spatial stabilization"... he knew every word, but strung together, they might as well have been an alien language.

He stared at the scroll for ages before tossing it aside in frustration.

If he couldn't understand Barrier Technique, he couldn't figure out domains. If he couldn't figure out domains, he couldn't kill this generation's Six Eyes and Ten Shadows. If he couldn't kill the Six Eyes and Ten Shadows, Kenjaku wouldn't teach him any more Barrier Technique. If Kenjaku wouldn't teach him any more Barrier Technique...

He would have even less chance of beating Sukuna in the future.

Kashimo felt himself turning into a sheet of paper, weak and pale, ready to drift away at the slightest breeze.

"How the hell am I supposed to get past Limitless and Mahoraga?!"

He raked his fingers through his hair, only to realize afterward that he had already mussed his pale blue locks into a complete mess.

Forget it.

He bent down, scooped up some stream water, and splashed it onto his face.

Huh?

His face felt a little tingly.

He scooped up another handful and paid closer attention. It really did tingle, like a faint electric current crawling over his skin.

Oh, right.

His cursed energy leaked. When he soaked in water, that lightning-aspected cursed energy would gradually seep into it.

Kashimo stared at the stream in front of him, and a thought suddenly struck him.

Electrolysis.

He had paid attention in at least a few high school chemistry classes. Running electricity through seawater broke it down into hydrogen and chlorine. Chlorine was toxic, and hydrogen exploded when exposed to an electric spark.

What if...

What if he could kill Mahoraga by poisoning him and blowing him up?

Kashimo froze for two seconds, then slowly broke into a grin.

Then how do I beat Limitless?

The invincible little deer went down again.

The Gojo Clan.

"What do you mean... Zenin Sawa said the Zenin Clan is going into seclusion to train?"

Gojo Arashi sat at the head of the room, staring at the man who had come to report. His expression was quite a sight. His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide, as if he had just heard the most outrageous joke in the world.

"Those were his words, Lord Arashi." The messenger kept his head lowered, his voice carrying a hint of barely suppressed laughter. "The head of the Zenin Clan said it himself. They intend to 'shut themselves away and devote themselves to their studies,' and won't be receiving visitors for the time being."

Gojo Arashi fell silent for three seconds.

"Are you kidding me?" He finally lost it. "This is Jujutsu Society, not some cultivation fantasy, right? Now he's going into seclusion? Has that idiot been reading too many light novels?"

He waved a hand.

"You may leave."

"Yes, sir."

After the man withdrew, Gojo Arashi leaned back in his chair, took a cigarette from his sleeve, and lit it.

Hiss-

Whoosh-

Honestly, he couldn't remember when he had started smoking, either. Probably after all those headaches began piling up one after another.

There had been far too much to deal with lately. Every major power was pressuring them, openly or otherwise. At yesterday's banquet, the Imperial Court hadn't expressed a position at all, while most of the factions had openly sided with Zenin Sawa. And the Gojo Clan? Apart from the New Shadow Style and Lord Tengen, who was bound to the Six Eyes yet never showed himself, they had no one.

He blew out a smoke ring and watched it slowly disperse in the air.

There was no other choice. He would have to win over those unaffiliated sorcerers who had carved out their own little territories.

They might have been unaffiliated, but they weren't weak. There was San Dai Liu Shi Si, who had recently made a name for himself around Edo, and an old sorcerer near Yoshiwara renowned for his swordsmanship. Though that old man hadn't been heard from lately. Perhaps he had passed away, considering his age.

Of course, the most intimidating of them all was the rumored strongest sorcerer of the current era.

Kashimo, from Mutsu Province.

Apparently, he had recently arrived near Kyoto.

Gojo Arashi took another drag and gazed at the sky outside the window, his thoughts unreadable.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

Several large trees toppled one after another like dominoes, wood chips flying from their snapped trunks and startling a flock of birds into flight.

Kashimo emerged from the dust with his staff resting on his shoulder, tilting his head as he looked ahead.

"You've figured it out by now, right? My hand-to-hand skills are far above yours."

Kujū Jūrō braced himself against the broken trunk beside him and struggled upright. Damn it, this guy had attacked without a word. He hadn't even had a chance to defend himself, and that opening kick had nearly killed him.

Reverse Cursed Technique was desperately repairing the damage inside his body, but Kashimo had already swung that emerald-green staff at him.

A heavy blow struck his abdomen, folding Kujū Jūrō like a shrimp. Before he could catch his breath, another overhead strike came crashing down.

He raised his hands with all his strength to block it, the impact numbing the webbing between his thumbs and forefingers. Using that brief opening, he swiftly retreated to put some distance between them.

"I, Kujū Jūrō, have no quarrel with you." He panted, his gaze fixed on that far-too-young face opposite him.

"Why do you want to kill me?"

Kashimo looked at him and leisurely picked his ear.

"Ah... aren't you Kyoto's greatest martial arts master?" He flicked the stuff off his little finger, his tone casual. "So I wanted to see for myself. Turns out..."

He shrugged.

"You're nothing special."

Kujū Jūrō's expression changed.

Kashimo took the staff off his shoulder, gripped it in one hand, and advanced two steps.

"So you can die by my hand."

"If that's how it is-"

Kujū Jūrō slowly settled into a stance. It wasn't a conventional opening posture. He lowered his body slightly, one palm forward and the other back, his weight centered between his legs, looking as though he had taken root in the earth. That solid presence wasn't something that could be acquired overnight. It came from a style passed down through generations, honed through decades of his own work.

"Come on."

Kashimo raised an eyebrow.

He had fought plenty of opponents like this, but one who could see the gulf between them so clearly and still refuse to run was rare.

He planted the Ruyi Staff in the ground beside him and took a stance of his own.

No school, no master. Just what he had earned with his fists and his life through countless battles to the death over the past seventeen years.

"Don't disappoint me."

The instant the words left his mouth, Kashimo drove off the ground, bursting a small patch of cracks beneath his feet. He shot forward like a cannonball, with no fancy footwork or cursed energy reinforcement, relying purely on the explosive power of his body.

His fist shot out.

Kujū Jūrō's pupils contracted sharply.

He could see the trajectory of that punch, the angle at which Kashimo's shoulder dipped, how far his waist and hips rotated, and the speed of the approaching fist.

He could see it, but he couldn't dodge it.

All he could do was block.

His palms guarded his centerline, barely catching the punch. The instant fist met palms, he felt his bones tremble. Strength, speed, technique-he was inferior to this young man in every respect.

But...

He had his forms.

They were etched into his bones. Forged through decades of relentless, sweat-soaked practice, they were not mere moves, but an instinct that could respond to any change.

He followed the lingering momentum of Kashimo's punch. Rather than resist or brace against it, he borrowed its force to turn. His body became a fully drawn bow, twisting, gathering power, then returning the blow with an elbow.

"Bang!"