Chapter 19
Moonlight filtered through the gap in the curtain, casting a silvery-white light onto Eriri's nightstand.
She was fast asleep—her body had relaxed after the Reverse Cursed Technique, but her mind was exhausted from the day's experiences. Her consciousness floated on the border between waking and sleeping, like a feather gently bobbing on a sea of memories.
Then that feather was pulled by an invisible force and sank into the depths.
A dream began.
No warning, no transition. One second she was lying in her familiar bed, and the next, Eriri found herself in a suffocating palace.
This was not modern architecture. A high wooden dome was decorated with magnificent frescoes depicting the sun, moon, stars, flying goddesses, and countless strange beasts whose names she could not pronounce. The giant pillars supporting the dome would require several people to wrap their arms around them. The pillars were carved with intricate cloud patterns and dragon figures, every stroke exuding an ancient and solemn atmosphere. The floor was covered with mirror-smooth black tiles, reflecting the burning torches on both sides—not electric lights, but real flames dancing in bronze lamps, dyeing the entire hall in a swaying golden-red color.
At the end of the hall was a nine-step platform. On the platform sat a large throne carved from a single piece of ebony. The armrests were shaped like dragons. The back of the throne was high, and the top was inlaid with a slowly rotating Dharma wheel pattern embroidered with gold and silver thread.
And the person sitting on the throne—
Eriri stopped breathing.
It was Genji.
But it was not the Genji she knew.
He was no longer wearing the indigo hunting robes that were stunningly beautiful. Instead, he wore an ornate black formal robe. The flowing cloud patterns embroidered with silver thread seemed to ripple in the firelight, as if clouds were actually floating on the robe. On the dark purple outer coat, sun and moon patterns were embroidered with gold thread—every stitch so fine that it could not have been completed by mortal hands.
His hair was still partially tied up with a wooden pin, but the pin had been replaced by a white jade carving of a dragon, the tassels hanging from it made of fine gold wire. His face—Eriri had never seen Genji like this.
Expressionless.
Not indifference, not arrogance, but a deep, almost divine calm. Those eyes, which always held a smile or curiosity, were now half-closed, his long eyelashes casting a faint shadow on his cheeks. His sitting posture was relaxed but straight. One hand rested casually on the armrest, the other on his knee, his fingertips slightly curled.
The most striking thing was above his head.
A golden wheel hovered there. The Dharma wheel was not dazzling, but it emitted an indescribable majesty, as if it itself were the embodiment of some universal law.
Eriri wanted to speak, wanted to move, but found that her body was completely uncontrollable. She was like a transparent ghost, floating at the edge of the hall, able to see and hear, but unable to intervene.
Then she saw the men kneeling at the foot of the steps.
Not one.
A crowd.
A sea of black figures stretched from the foot of the steps to the entrance of the hall.
They all knelt, their foreheads pressed to the ground, not daring to lift their heads. These people wore various ancient costumes—the belted robes of nobles, the straight drapes of samurai, the hunting robes of priests, the mantles of monks—representing almost every class of Heian society.
At the front, closest to the steps, knelt a man wearing a twelve-layered ceremonial robe and a crown on his head.
Eriri had only seen this outfit in history textbooks.
It was the attire of an emperor.
The man—no, the emperor—slowly raised his head. His face looked old and tired in the firelight, with deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but in those eyes burned a nearly fanatical reverence.
"Great Priest," the emperor spoke, his voice echoing through the empty hall with a slight tremor. "The cursed spirits in Kyoto and the surrounding provinces have been exorcised by your orders. Sorcerers from across the land have also been registered and recorded. All unregulated, chaotic killings of innocents have been dealt with according to the law."
Genji—or rather, Genji sitting on the divine throne—slightly lifted his gaze.
It was just a small movement, but the air in the entire hall seemed to freeze. A suppressed intake of breath came from the kneeling crowd. Even the emperor instinctively lowered his head.
"Thank you for your work," Genji said.
His voice was very calm, so calm that there was not a single ripple, but it inexplicably made Eriri's heart race.
It was a kind of… condescending and natural tone, as if he were saying something as ordinary as "the weather is nice today," but the weight of his words pressed down on them so that no one could lift their heads.
"We do not deserve your praise!" The emperor hurriedly prostrated himself even lower. "If not for the Great Priest, cursed spirits would be everywhere, sorcerers would be idle, and the world would have become hell. You protect all the people, you suppress evil—such great kindness—"
"Enough."
Genji interrupted. His voice was still calm, but the emperor immediately fell silent.
"I don't need this flattery," Genji said, his gaze sweeping over the black sea of figures below the steps. "I do this only because I don't like chaos. Cursed spirits harm people. Sorcerers fight among themselves. The people panic all day. Such a world is very boring."
He paused and added, "As for protecting this country, sheltering you… that was just incidental. Don't misunderstand."
The emperor opened his mouth as if to say something, but finally lowered his head. "…Understood."
"Is there anything else?" Genji asked, a hint of impatience already in his tone.
"Yes, there is," the emperor said quickly. "There are reports from the East Sea Road that a great demon has risen, devouring the inhabitants of three villages in one night. The local sorcerers tried to surround and suppress it, but the entire force was annihilated. I beg the Great Priest—"
"Send Sei," Genji said simply. "He will handle it."
"Zen'in Sei…" The emperor hesitated for a moment. "But this is a great demon. An ordinary sorcerer would fear—"
"Sei is not an ordinary sorcerer," Genji's voice turned cold for a moment. "I said he will handle it. He will handle it. Any other questions?"
"N-No!" The emperor hurriedly prostrated himself. "I obey the Great Priest's command!"
Genji waved his hand.
It was a very casual gesture, like shooing away a fly. But everyone below the steps seemed to have received a pardon. They quickly stood up, bowed, and filed out of the hall.
They moved cautiously, as if afraid that the slightest sound would anger the one sitting on the throne.
Within a few minutes, the vast hall was empty.
Only Genji and the burning torches on both sides of the steps remained.
Eriri still couldn't move. She could only watch. She saw Genji lean back slightly after everyone had left, resting against the back of the throne. The Dharma wheel above his head spun faster, casting an indigo glow that reflected on his expressionless face.
Then he sighed softly.
The sigh was light—so light that it was almost inaudible. But Eriri understood. There was a crack in that perfect, godlike mask. What was revealed in that gap was not majesty or power, but…
Boredom.
A bone-deep, thorough boredom that went all the way to the marrow.
"Come out, Sei," Genji said, his voice returning to the tone Eriri knew—a little lazy, a little casual. "Hiding there and peeping—aren't you tired?"
From the shadows on the side of the hall, a man stepped out.
Information about this man instantly flashed through Eriri's mind.
This was Zen'in Sei.
Genji's younger twin brother.
He was seventy to eighty percent similar to Genji—the same raised eyebrows and eye contours, the same tall stature. But his temperament was completely different. Genji sat there like a revered god. Zen'in Sei stood there like a sword hidden in its sheath.
He wore a dark blue outfit, a long blade at his waist, and his hair was tied up at the back of his head. No luxurious accessories, no complex patterns—just a neat, clean samurai's attire. The most striking thing was his eyes. They were pure black, like the deepest night. There was no cursed light in them, only an almost animalistic sharpness.
Heavenly Restriction. Zero cursed energy, but with the most powerful physical abilities in the Zen'in clan.
"Brother," Zen'in Sei walked up the steps but did not kneel. He just stood calmly, his hands clasped behind his back. "You listened to all that nonsense again?"
"It comes with the responsibility," Genji shrugged—the gesture finally made him look human. "After all, I'm the 'Great Priest' now. I have to pretend."
"Pretend?" Zen'in Sei snorted lightly, stepped up onto the platform, and sat down next to Genji. "Brother, you protect this country, govern the sorcerers for the sake of order, and shield the people from the calamities of cursed spirits. You are more worthy of respect and reverence than any clay idol. Why do you always speak so lightly of it?"
"Because I mean it lightly," Genji turned his head and looked at his brother. "Sei, I am not a god. I am just… a very strong person. I destroy cursed spirits and control sorcerers only because I don't like chaos and I don't like seeing innocent people die. What is there to revere about that?"
"In the eyes of those who are struggling, that is a miracle," Zen'in Sei said, his voice becoming serious. "Brother, you have saved far more people than you have killed. The order you established has kept this country stable for twenty years. Do you know how many people have died from cursed spirits in the past twenty years? Do you know how many sorcerers no longer dare to bully ordinary people because of the rules you set?"
Genji was silent for a few seconds, then smiled. It was the smile Eriri knew—a little helpless, a little self-deprecating.
"It seems I have done something great," he reached out and ruffled his brother's hair—just as he had done many years ago in the courtyard when Zen'in Sei was still a child. "But actually, I was just… bored. I needed something to do."
Zen'in Sei did not dodge this intimate gesture. He just narrowed his eyes slightly, like a cat being stroked.
"If you're bored, go find Sukuna for a fight," he suggested. "That guy has been restless again lately. Even though you beat him into the ground every time, he seems to enjoy it."
"Sukuna…" Genji spoke the name with a hint of complex emotion in his voice. "He's pretty boring too. He obviously can't beat me, but he refuses to admit defeat and insists on provoking me every three to five days. I almost treat him like an old friend who comes to visit regularly."
"What kind of 'old friend' is that?" Zen'in Sei laughed. "Last time, he destroyed half of Mount Tamba. I had to spend three days cleaning up that mess."
"That's why I said he's boring," Genji stood up, the Dharma wheel above his head shaking slightly with his movement. "But on the other hand, he's the only opponent in this world who can make me take things a little seriously. Everyone else… is too weak."
He walked to the edge of the steps and looked down at the empty hall. The torchlight flickered over him, making his magnificent robes look like burning golden flames.
"Sei, do you think…" Genji suddenly spoke, his voice very soft. "What will the world be like in a thousand years?"
Zen'in Sei was momentarily stunned. "A thousand years? Who knows what will happen after that long."
"I want to know," Genji turned and looked at his brother, and for the first time, a certain… longing appeared in his eyes. "I want to see what kind of history, what kind of people, and what kind of… beauty will exist in the world a thousand years from now."
"Brother, you're thinking about that 'modern era' again?" Zen'in Sei asked. He knew that his brother had a strange obsession—he always said he was "from the future" and always spoke words he didn't understand, like "computer," "mobile phone," and "anime."
"Yes," Genji nodded and returned to his seat, but he didn't sit down. Instead, he raised his hand and traced his fingertips in the air. A stream of indigo cursed energy flowed from his fingertips, outlining complex patterns in the air—a breathtakingly precise cursed seal that Eriri had never seen before.
"The barrier I set up covers all of Japan—no, the entire world," Genji said, his fingers still moving, the cursed seal growing increasingly complex. "It can absorb the cursed energy dispersed by ordinary people and prevent cursed spirits from being born. Theoretically, as long as this barrier is still functioning, the number of cursed spirits in the world a thousand years from now will be so small as to be negligible."
Zen'in Sei listened in silence. He knew nothing about the theory of jujutsu—a Heavenly Restriction user with zero cursed energy was doomed to never understand these sophisticated techniques. But he believed in his brother.
"But the barrier needs to be maintained," Genji continued. The cursed seal gradually took shape in his hand, transforming into a three-dimensional, slowly rotating sphere. "So I left behind a 'Guardian.' It will automatically adjust the barrier's power to respond to unexpected situations. But…"
He paused and withdrew his fingers. The cursed seal sphere dissipated into the air.
"Human negative emotions will continue to grow. The larger the population, the greater the pressure, the deeper the discontent—the more cursed energy will be generated. I don't know if the barrier will be able to withstand such a burden in a thousand years."
"With brother's level, you should be prepared for that."
"I know. But this kind of trivial problem should be solved by future generations. I don't need to worry too much about it."
"Cursed spirits are like natural and man-made disasters. If people are aware of them, they should soon be able to develop countermeasures."
"What is brother going to do?" Zen'in Sei asked.
Genji smiled. It was a smile Eriri had never seen before—a mixture of anticipation, adventure, and a hint of madness.
"I'm going to see it for myself," he said. "I will turn myself into a shikigami and sink into the shadow realm to sleep. I will wait a thousand years until a future descendant of the Ten Shadows Technique summons me. Then I will wake up and go to that era to see it."
Zen'in Sei's expression changed. "Brother, that's too dangerous! If the transformation into a shikigami fails—"
"It won't fail," Genji interrupted, with an irrefutable certainty in his voice. "There is nothing I cannot do. Sei, you must believe me."
"…I have always believed in my brother," Zen'in Sei was silent for a long time before whispering. "But… a thousand years is too long. I may not live to see that time."
"Then live well. Lead the Zen'in clan in the direction it should go," Genji patted his brother on the shoulder. "When I return, I want to see a prosperous Zen'in clan, a jujutsu world that no longer discriminates against Heavenly Restriction users, and… an interesting world."
He walked to the center of the hall and looked up at the frescoes on the dome. There were images of the sun, moon, and stars, of gods and buddhas in the heavens, and of mortals worshiping the divine.
"The world is so boring right now," Genji said softly, as if speaking to himself and to this world. "Sorcerers fight for power and profit. Nobles scheme and intrigue. The people struggle to survive… They are all trapped in this era, in this small island country."
He turned and looked at Zen'in Sei, his eyes surprisingly bright in the firelight.
"But a thousand years from now, the world will be vast. There will be airplanes flying in the sky, ships sailing the seas, and countless new things I have never seen. I want to see that world. I want to talk to the people of that era. I want to taste the food there. I want to play the games there—"
His voice grew softer and softer, eventually fading into a sigh.
"I want to go back. Back to… the time where I should have been."
The hall was quiet.
Only the crackling of the torches and Zen'in Sei's suppressed breathing could be heard.
Eriri floated in the corner, watching this scene. Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed by something.
She finally understood what Genji meant by "boredom."
It was not pretense. It was not the whining of the privileged.
It was a time traveler trapped in ancient times a thousand years ago, looking at the unchanging scenery day after day, doing the same things day after day. Even if he was revered as a god, even if he had invincible power—the loneliness and longing in his heart could not be dispelled.
She wanted to speak. She wanted to tell him: the world a thousand years from now is truly wonderful. There are skyscrapers he cannot imagine, technological creations he has never seen before, and countless wonderful stories and works of art—
But she could not make a sound.
The dream began to collapse.
The scene of the hall faded like a fresco losing its color. The torchlight dimmed. The figures of Genji and Zen'in Sei gradually blurred. In the end, only the silhouette of Genji remained, looking up at the dome and quietly murmuring to himself:
"I really want to… hurry up and see it."