A Chapter Closed

After successfully engraving the cursed technique "Concept Bestowal" into his brain, Dio clearly sensed the increase in its burden.

It was neither physical pain nor fatigue, but a more fundamental sense of "crowding."

It was as though a sophisticated, constantly running system had appeared deep within his consciousness, requiring a steady allocation of resources to maintain, understand, and stand ready to invoke it.

Or like a computer with an extra low-resource background process-barely noticeable most of the time, but still having an effect.

Dio estimated that a jujutsu sorcerer with an ordinary mind and physique could safely sustain, at most, roughly one or two cursed techniques in their brain.

Beyond that number, the milder consequences would be sluggish thinking and disrupted cursed energy control. In severe cases, it could cause personality distortion or cognitive collapse, leaving the sorcerer in a vegetative state.

Even for an "existence beyond all limits" like him, whose cursed energy, willpower, and physical strength far exceeded normal bounds, the maximum he could sustain without compromising clarity of thought, precision of cursed energy control, or everyday cognitive functions was probably only three or four.

More precisely, it was very likely three cursed techniques and one shikigami.

And Dio already possessed "Copy," "Concept Bestowal," and "The World."

That meant his brain had only enough memory capacity left to safely accommodate one new cursed technique.

He had to be extremely cautious in choosing his next-and very likely last-"technique slot."

For that very reason, he once again recognized the almost unfair superiority of his cursed technique, "Copy":

No matter how many cursed techniques he mastered through Copy, the burden these "copies" placed on his brain was always consolidated within the single framework of "Copy."

Copied cursed techniques took up no additional "technique slots"!

This trait gave him a strategic advantage in the breadth and possible combinations of his techniques that no traditional sorcerer could hope to match.

It was like holding a deck whose cards he could swap out at any time, while his opponent could only ever respond with a fixed hand.

That tumultuous night quietly slipped away amid the echoes of curses.

As the entrenched local power in Mumbai, the Eye of Garuda certainly worked efficiently. By the time the first ray of dawn pierced the horizon, the agreed ten-million-dollar payment had arrived in full.

Even more impressive, however, was the subsequent "crisis management."

The earth-shaking battle beneath the slums the night before, which had alarmed people for miles and involved multiple special grade beings, was classified the next day in every official record, news report, and the public's collective understanding as an "unfortunate large-scale natural gas explosion caused by severe corrosion and leakage in aging underground pipelines."

A few carefully chosen photographs of the ruins and the "emergency repair site," along with a handful of vague official statements, quietly buried every supernatural trace and potential source of panic beneath a mundane narrative.

For the vast majority of people in Mumbai whose lives carried on as usual, it was nothing more than a minor newspaper item glimpsed over breakfast, or a few rueful remarks exchanged at the office.

They discussed it for a few days, sighed that "safety in the slums really is a problem," and then it was quickly drowned out by fresher celebrity gossip, more pressing concerns about making a living, or the result of the next cricket match, as though nothing worth remembering for long had ever happened.

Having completed their intended objectives ahead of schedule, the five of them did not rush home. With the Eye of Garuda repeatedly urging them to stay and making thoughtful arrangements, they spent another leisurely day in Mumbai, taking a brief rest after the fierce battle while enjoying the distinctive atmosphere of this South Asian metropolis.

During the day, they strolled at leisure over the soft sands along the waterfront at India Gate, sharing the peace with the circling seabirds.

Once night had deepened, they sat on the open-air terrace of an upscale restaurant, gazing down at Mumbai's countless lights, glittering like a cascading river of stars, and farther out at the deep, boundless blue of the Arabian Sea, submerged in darkness.

At the end of their day of rest, they politely declined further hospitality and boarded a direct flight back to Tokyo the following morning.

The gains from this trip had far exceeded their expectations.

Leaving aside the more than three hundred low-level cursed spirits they had picked up "along the way," Suguru Geto needed time to familiarize himself with the Gnawing Rat Duke's abilities and tactical combinations, while Dio needed to practice the finer applications of "Concept Bestowal."

As for the mysterious "Werewolf cursed spirit" from the legends of Larue's hometown, that would have to wait until next time.

While they waited for their flight, Amit hurried into the airport's VIP lounge, sweat on his temples, bringing one final piece of crucial intelligence.

"The Eight Dragon Kings and our own divination sorcerers have just independently confirmed the same news."

He spoke quickly, his expression grave.

"Because outside forces have violently disturbed the balance between sorcerers and cursed spirits recently, the replacement cycle of the special grade cursed spirit Avatar Kali has been brought forward considerably! Clear signs of a cursed womb forming have already been observed along the banks of the Ganges in Varanasi."

He drew a deep breath, his gaze lingering between Dio and Suguru Geto. "So-perhaps we'll have another opportunity to work together before long?"

"Sure." Dio looked north, his tone relaxed. "The next time we come will be when Avatar Kali has fully emerged."

The Indian Jujutsu Society's feelings toward these two powerful outsiders had always been too complicated to express-

They resented their forceful intervention for upsetting the delicate local balance, yet feared that they might truly overturn the entire board;

Although they lacked the strength to deal with those long-entrenched special grade cursed spirits themselves, they were not necessarily willing to stand by and watch outsiders subjugate or exorcise them.

The Eye of Garuda's decision to "seek outside help" this time had undoubtedly come under tremendous internal pressure and criticism.

Yet what use were "we don't want this" and "we're unwilling"...?

Dreams were realized and worlds shaped not through talk, but through fighting.

Crushing every obstacle with power and forcing reality to submit to one's will-that was the cold, singular truth underlying the world.

To the thousands of sorcerers in the Indian Jujutsu Society, Dio's actions on this trip amounted to nothing less than a campaign to conquer them anew, in both body and mind.

This was a victory worth remembering!

Thus, on the Reverse Life Tree deep within Dio's consciousness, the star emblem representing the concept of "Victory" fully lit up at that moment, and "Copy" gained new capacity.

Yet when his consciousness climbed along the Fire Sword Path, ready to reach the next point of growth, what he saw was a word that left him briefly bewildered.

"Beauty."

How could he achieve growth in the element of "Beauty"? In a world of jujutsu built on mountains of corpses and seas of blood, the very existence of "Beauty" seemed a paradox.