At the edge of the rooftop, Qingxiao looked down at him from above, his brows creasing almost imperceptibly.
Just as Nanami had said, purely physical damage could not touch the soul's core. He really was a troublesome opponent with a gimmick.
The thought passed through his mind, and he spoke, his voice carrying downstairs on the wind:
"A guy like you deserves to be called a perfected being?"
"A perfected being enters water without getting wet, enters fire without feeling heat, becomes one with the Dao, and suffers no loss of spirit."
Mahito laughed instead.
He straightened up and dusted himself off, his face practically overflowing with mockery:
"Souls? You don't understand the first thing about souls!
Nobody understands souls better than I do!
My Cursed Technique, Idle Transfiguration, revolves around the soul.
As long as my soul remains, I can recover from any injury, no matter how severe."
Mahito stretched, his tone contemptuous:
"But you? Besides being a little stronger and faster, what else can you do?
A brute who can't even touch the core of Jujutsu dares to spout nonsense in front of me?
All you can do is bully Transfigured Humans. If we really fight, you can't do a thing to me."
Qingxiao said nothing. The fingers hanging at his side moved slightly.
The path of strength was still too weak. It offered no answer at all against opponents with gimmicks like this.
In fact, he had noticed long ago that his soul and flesh were slowly merging.
Now it seemed the Cursed Spirit before him might make a decent touchstone.
He stepped toward Mahito at an unhurried pace, each footfall making the rubble beside his feet tremble lightly.
Mahito's gaze sharpened. Knowing a head-on clash would get him nowhere, he pushed his ability to transform his