Charles spun his long staff twice, stepping back into a wide, balanced stance.
Before the clash even began, his posture radiated absolute confidence.
The weapon in his hands resembled an oversized fountain pen, its metal tip gleaming under the park’s ambient lights.
Julian looked at the weapon, tilting his head slightly.
“Hey, Charles.
Is that staff part of your innate technique?”
“Staff?” Charles corrected immediately, his brow furrowing.
“This is a G-Pen staff!”
He adjusted his grip, adding in a calmer tone, “I suppose you could say it’s tied to my energy.
I carried a standard fountain pen in my jacket, but once I channeled my cursed energy into it, the shape shifted into this.”
Julian nodded slowly, a touch of envy in his eyes.
Back when he only knew the world through manga panels, he had always wanted a personal Cursed Tool.
Seeing Charles manifest a specialized weapon straight out of his personal items made Julian wonder if he could do something similar.
“So, can anyone use that G-Pen staff, or is it strictly locked to you?” Julian asked.
Charles tilted his head, looking mildly puzzled.
“I’m not sure.
It’s directly linked to my technique, so it probably wouldn’t do much for anyone else.”
Charles’s innate technique was Future Sight.
When he struck an opponent using his G-Pen staff, the nib would gather ink drawn from the target’s cursed energy.
Once enough ink accumulated, a literal comic panel would manifest on the target’s chest, allowing Charles to see a few seconds into their immediate future.
The initial foresight gave him a one-second window, but as more ink pooled at the tip, his vision extended further.
The technique held a distinct flaw: the foresight only applied to what Charles could see with his own eyes.
If an enemy moved into a blind spot or attacked outside his field of vision, the panel proved useless.
Julian looked at the sleek metal staff in Charles’s hands.
“Mind if I give it a try?”
Charles shrugged, tossing the weapon across the gap without hesitation.
The moment the staff left Charles’s grip, his energy flow disconnected.
Mid-flight, the heavy metal staff shrank back into a standard, pocket-sized fountain pen, falling harmlessly into Julian’s open palm.
Julian caught it, staring in surprise at how casually Charles had handed over his weapon.
“You’re pretty trusting, man.
What if I just kept it?”
“You called me a mangaka,” Charles said smoothly.
“That’s more respect than I’ve received all week.”
Julian focused his core, pushing a steady stream of cursed energy toward the pen.
The metal refused to absorb a single drop.
“No luck,” Julian sighed, tossing the pen back to Charles.
“It’s completely inert for me.”
Charles caught the pen, his energy surging as the metal expanded instantly back into its full staff form.
“Told you.
It’s just a regular pen without my technique.”
Julian did a quick series of shoulder rolls, loosening his joints.
“Alright, enough testing.
Let me see what that technique can actually do in a real fight.”
Charles twirled the G-Pen staff with a flourish, his smirk returning.
“Fine by me.
Try to keep up!”
The moment Charles set his stance, Julian vanished.
The electrical amplification from Immortal Mad Thunder granted him absurd explosive speed.
In a fraction of a second, Julian closed the distance, his right hand curling into a clawed strike.
Blue lightning crackled violently across his palm, sizzling through the night air.
Julian drove his claw downward toward Charles’s chest.
But just as the strike was about to connect, Charles leaned his torso back at an unnatural angle, dodging the blow by a fraction of an inch.
What?
Julian’s eyes widened slightly.
Before he could reset his momentum, he lunged forward with a secondary left hook.
Charles slipped the punch effortlessly, stepping inside Julian’s guard.
With a sharp, fluid motion, Charles thrust the G-Pen staff forward, driving the metal nib straight into Julian’s right forearm.
The angle was ridiculously sharp—Julian hadn’t even registered the windup.
Slice.
The sharp nib cut through his skin, leaving a deep, clean gash several centimeters long.
Blood welled along the cut, dripping onto the concrete.
Julian leaped backward, looking down at his bleeding arm in genuine shock.
Even with his physical density boosted by Special Grade reinforcement, Charles had managed to bypass his momentum and draw first blood.
“Man, you’re a total stat monster,” Julian muttered, shaking his arm.
“That output came out of nowhere!”
Charles backed off several meters, panting slightly as he held the staff in a defensive high guard.
His face was flushed, showing the sheer mental strain required to execute those dodges.
“It’s not stat output,” Charles wheezed out a laugh.
Julian looked at the tip of the G-Pen staff.
A thick layer of black, energy-infused ink had already gathered near the nib.
“You pre-charged the ink before we even started?” Julian realized.
Because Julian’s initial crater landing had made such a noisy entrance, Charles had taken the opportunity to channel his energy into the staff early, setting up his foresight before Julian ever stepped into the plaza.
He hadn’t dodged on reaction—he had simply read Julian’s movement path ahead of time.
Julian nodded slowly.
“Clever.
Tactical setup really makes a world of difference.”
In jujutsu combat, preparation often dictated the outcome.
Even Satoru Gojo had relied on Utahime and Ijichi’s support to set up a two-hundred-percent Hollow Purple ambush against Sukuna.
Charles lowered his staff slightly, looking at Julian’s bleeding arm with concern.
“How’s the cut?
Do you need to call it off?”
Julian looked down at his forearm and let out a light laugh.
“This?
It’s nothing.”
He focused his core, converting his cursed energy into positive output.
A soft, warm light bathed his forearm.
Beneath the glow, the bleeding stopped instantly.
The torn muscle and skin knitted back together at a visible speed, erasing the deep cut in less than three seconds.
The skin smoothed over, leaving zero scar tissue behind.
Charles stared at Julian’s intact arm, his jaw slack.
“What kind of move was that?!”
“Reverse Cursed Technique,” Julian replied casually, flexing his fingers.
“Basically a high-tier healing skill.”
Charles stared at him, his face twisting into a look of absolute disbelief.
“You called me a stat monster?!” Charles yelled, pointing his staff at Julian.
“Look at your own numbers!
You literally just regenerated a open wound in three seconds!”
Julian raised his hands defensively, offering a sheepish grin.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that!
I’m not a stat monster—I’m all about skill!”