[To the rhythmic roar of the Shinkansen speeding along the rails, the scenery outside the window raced backward like a blurred oil painting.]
[Inside the carriage, most of the Kyoto Jujutsu High group leaned back in their seats with their eyes closed, resting after their succession of ordeals.]
[You sat by the window, your gaze resting on the battered puppet before you: "Mechamaru," mercilessly torn apart by the Divine Dogs' claws and fangs.]
[For an ordinary jujutsu sorcerer, repairing such an intricate structure would have been a pipe dream, but to you, it was as simple as assembling a child's building blocks.]
[That was thanks to your special "Mechanical Disassembly Intuition."]
[As your fingers brushed over the bone-deep claw marks on the puppet's shell, you had no need to dismantle it. Its interlocking internal gears, the threadlike circuits conducting cursed energy, and even the hinges of every joint automatically came apart layer by layer and reassembled like a blueprint unfolding in your mind.]
[Even without that intuition, your long years of accumulated manufacturing experience alone would have made uncovering this puppet's workings child's play.]
[You casually picked up the spare parts beside you, a trace of cursed energy spilling from your fingertips, and began the repairs with fluid movements.]
[As its internal structure gradually recovered, you silently assessed its value.]
[You had to admit that, purely in terms of quality and killing power as a "weapon," this puppet Kokichi Muta had built was more single-minded in purpose than Principal Masamichi Yaga's cursed corpses, which required self-awareness, and better suited to intense, meat-grinder combat.]
[During the repairs, however, you also keenly sensed something off.]
[The machining marks on certain excessively intricate internal components looked somewhat stiff, lacking the warmth of human hands.]
[This was definitely not something Kokichi Muta had personally