Before the thought could even finish, a sharp, sudden heat flared in his chest. It lacked pain but hit with enough intensity to send him stumbling forward, catching heavily on the edge of the kitchen island.
Heat rushed outward from his heart, flooding down his legs and straight to his fingertips. Gripping the edge of the counter, he squeezed his eyes shut as his body forcefully adjusted.
Muscles tightened violently for three agonizing seconds, a heartbeat hammering against ribs—and then everything just released.
Eyes opening to the blue screen minimizing into the corners of his vision, Ren stood up straight and blinked.
The deep, heavy exhaustion dragging him down all morning was completely gone. Even the lingering ache in his lower back had vanished. Breathing slow and effortless, a sensation of incredible lightness took over, as if gravity had just loosened its grip.
Looking down, his hands appeared exactly the same, but the feedback from the nerves was entirely different. Turning back to the kitchen island, he placed his right hand flat over the edge of the thick marble.
No wind-up. No braced feet. Just a simple press of thumb and fingers against the stone, followed by a squeeze.
Crack.
A solid, jagged chunk of marble broke off and clattered onto the hardwood floor, leaving a rough white bite mark on the counter's edge. Ren yanked his hand back, staring from the broken stone to his fingers. That hadn't even been a hard squeeze. It felt like snapping a stale cookie.
A slow, disbelieving laugh slipped out. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stared at the damage. He definitely wasn't a fragile civilian anymore.
The broken chunk of marble felt dense and jagged as he bent down to pick it up. Running a thumb over the freshly snapped edge, a quiet exhale escaped his lips. Tossing the heavy stone into the trash can.
"Status," he said aloud.
The translucent blue interface snapped instantly back to the center of his vision. Digital sparks cascaded down the screen, organizing themselves into the familiar, game-like list. But this time, the data had changed.
[USER STATUS]
Name: Ren Age: 17
Cursed Energy Level: Civilian
Cursed Technique: None
Heavenly Restriction: Physical Gift (Incomplete)
Unique Trait: Preternaturally Handsome
Scanning the glowing text, a profound sense of relief washed over him. The 'Civilian' label under Cursed Energy remained exactly the same.
Because Maki's restriction was still tied to her twin sister, her cursed energy wasn't completely eradicated to zero like Toji Fushiguro's.
That meant the system's replication followed the exact same rules. He wouldn't suddenly become an invisible, untrackable anomaly to other sorcerers, which was perfect for staying under the radar.
Flexing his fingers, the raw, buzzing power thrumming just under the skin was undeniable. It wasn't full-blown invincibility.
A Special Grade curse would still tear him apart if he wasn't careful, and he still didn't have a weapon to actually exorcise anything.
But surviving the meat grinder of the Jujutsu world just became a very real possibility.
Ren stared at the blue panel, entirely prepared to dismiss it, but the interface suddenly flickered. The crisp, translucent blue deepened into a stark, urgent gold.
A new series of notifications rapidly cascaded down the center of his vision, accompanied by a sharp, repeating chime in the back of his mind.
[HIDDEN ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: The Sorcerer's Rite]
[Condition Met:] First time was with an active Jujutsu Sorcerer, not an ordinary civilian woman.
[Calculating Bonus Yield...]
[EXTRA REWARDS SECURED]
1. Feature Unlock: Inventory
2. Cognitive Download: 15 Years - Zen'in Tactical Weaponry & CQC Mastery
3. Item Acquired: Grade-2 Cursed Tool [Wraith's Fang]
"Wait, cognitive down—"
The world tilted. It wasn't a physical burn this time; it was a sheer, violently compressed data dump straight into his frontal lobe. Ren slammed his hands onto the edge of the kitchen counter, squeezing his eyes shut as fifteen years of phantom memories violently overwrote his civilian reflexes.
He felt the phantom weight of a spear shaft in his hands. He felt the jarring impact of blocking a downward strike, the precise footwork required to sweep an opponent's legs, and the exact muscle tension needed to snap a wrist or parry a blade.
When he finally opened his eyes, his chest was heaving, a light sheen of sweat beading on his forehead. He pushed off the counter. The way he stood was fundamentally different. His balance was perfectly centered, his feet instinctively resting in a loose, flawless defensive stance without him even having to think about it.
He wasn't just strong anymore. He was lethal.
"Inventory," Ren rasped, testing the new feature.
The system responded instantly. A grid of empty, translucent gray squares materialized in the air just below his status screen. Only the very first slot was occupied, displaying a slowly rotating 3D icon of a sleek, dark blade.
With a thought, he selected it.
Space warped just an inch from his right hand. Ren reached out, his fingers closing around a solid, leather-wrapped hilt. As he pulled it free, the weapon fully materialized into reality.
It was a tactical tantō—about fourteen inches long in total, with a matte-black, single-edged blade that seemed to entirely absorb the morning light. It was perfectly balanced, the weight distributing flawlessly into his grip as if it had been custom-forged for his hand.
But the moment his bare skin made contact with the hilt, the world around him shifted.
The air in the apartment, which had looked perfectly clear a second ago, was suddenly overlaid with faint, lingering streaks of dark, static-like energy.
Looking toward the entryway, he could see the residual, miasmic trails left behind by Maki's heavy cursed tools where her weapons bag had rested on the floor the night before.
[Item: Wraith's Fang (Grade-2)]
[Trait: Ocular Resonance.] The wielder is granted the temporary ability to perceive Cursed Energy and Cursed Spirits as long as physical contact with the weapon's hilt is maintained.
Ren spun the tantō effortlessly in his hand—a fluid, dangerously complex twirl that he absolutely hadn't known how to do three minutes ago.
He caught it cleanly in a reverse grip, the dark blade resting perfectly parallel to his forearm.
He was just starting to appreciate the lethal, effortless balance of the weapon when his phone buzzed violently against the kitchen counter, entirely ruining the moment.
BZZZ. BZZZ.
Ren blinked, the intense, combat-ready focus evaporating as he glanced at the glowing screen. The caller ID flashed an unsaved number.
He flipped the knife, smoothly catching it by the scabbard, and picked up the phone with his free hand. "Hello?"
"Hey, hotshot," a brisk, distinctly female voice crackled through the speaker. "Just making sure you didn't forget. First shift starts at ten sharp. Don't be late. I've already got three girls circling the store waiting for us to open, and I need my new star employee on the floor."