[Over the next year, time seemed to have been deliberately slowed.]
[Apart from the routines and special training proceeding as usual at Jujutsu High, nothing unexpected happened.]
[Everything advanced steadily and with deathly stillness under the gaze of your eyes, which seemed capable of seeing through the future.]
[Until one ordinary afternoon, the long-absent system card-draw notification buried deep in your mind arrived on schedule, cracking that oppressive quiet.]
["Pickpocket's Hidden Weapon [R]"]
[Effect: As long as you stand on the ground, you can use your toes at any time to flick up dirt, broken glass, or chili powder, spraying it across an enemy's face in a fast, wide fan.]
[Tactical value: Nothing is more efficient than starting a fight with a handful of sand in someone's face. If you fight in a restaurant, what you fling might be a bowl of scalding soup or an entire bottle of pepper, perfect for dealing with experts who like to strike poses.]
[You looked at the dimly glowing R-rank Card appearing on your retina, utterly unmoved, without so much as raising your eyelids any farther.]
[Although the tactical value in the Card's description sounded rather practical, and such underhanded street-thug tricks might truly prove useful in certain situations, an ability this shabby held no interest whatsoever for you now.]
[With a thought, you skipped and closed the Card's details, treating this routine system draw as nothing more than an impeccably precise "standard clock" for measuring the passage of time.]
[A year had passed, meaning another important cog in your plan had turned.]
[After a year of intense, almost Spartan training, Tokyo Jujutsu High no longer really needed you to pour vast amounts of energy into forcibly raising their strength.]
[Your role as an "instructor" had reached a threshold you could not cross.]