Time flew by.
Only heaven knew how “fulfilling” Zenin Yukio’s past six years had been.
Thanks to the “Heavenly Restriction” body forcefully stuffed into him in that chaotic space, his physical foundation really was far beyond that of a normal baby.
But… he was still small.
No matter how “Heavenly Restriction” he was, a baby’s weaknesses and needs were all still there.
Eating, drinking, peeing, sleeping, every part was a challenge.
The only fortunate thing was that he learned to speak extremely early, and his mind was far too clear for a child.
Yukio also had his pride.
Maybe part of it was because he worried Toji might abandon him.
That at least spared Zenin Toji from having to play the guessing game of “Are you crying because you’re hungry, wet, or bored?”
Simple and direct communication greatly lowered the difficulty of childcare.
[Six Years Later]
In a remote and deserted courtyard of the Zenin family.
A small figure with black hair and black eyes wore a rough training outfit and carefully did basic push-ups.
His movements were standard, his breathing steady.
That small body seemed to contain strength and toughness beyond his age.
It was Zenin Yukio.
The courtyard door slid open.
Zenin Toji wore a somewhat casual dark kimono and leaned against the doorframe.
He had grown even taller and stronger, like a dangerous beast keeping its claws hidden.
Beneath his worn-out eyes was sharpness that couldn’t be concealed.
“Hey, brat.”
Toji yawned lazily, then casually dropped a bombshell, “Heard the Gojo family produced a ‘Six Eyes.'”
“A real genius.
The kind you only see once every few hundred years.”
He glanced at Yukio, who had instantly stopped moving, eyes lighting up, “They say he could become the strongest sorcerer of this era.”
“Want to… go take a look?”
Yukio instantly got up and brushed the dust off his hands, his little face full of excitement, “Is he older or younger than me?”
Toji rubbed his chin, recalling the information, “A bit younger than you.
Think he was born near the end of the year?
Anyway, he’s younger than you.
Why ask?”
Hearing that, Yukio grinned, showing two little canine teeth.
There was a strange sense of relief in his smile.
“Nothing.”
“As long as he’s younger than me.”
At least age-wise, he wasn’t being completely crushed in every direction.
His weird competitive spirit had grown stronger.
Toji felt it was kind of random, but didn’t ask more.
“Go change into something presentable.”
He turned and walked outside.
“Right away!”
Yukio dashed back into the house.
A few minutes later, a black-haired boy wearing a neat black kimono, with his hair slightly tidied up, ran out.
“Let’s go, onii-chan!”
One big, one small, walking one after another.
Their pace was surprisingly alike.
Both habitually folded their arms in front of their chests and walked with an attitude that said “don’t mess with me” as they left the deserted courtyard.
In recent years, news of the Gojo family’s “Six Eyes” divine child being born had already spread wildly throughout the jujutsu world.
The name Gojo Satoru had practically become another word for “talent,” “strength,” and “future peak.”
And in contrast… The Zenin family’s “zero cursed energy brothers” naturally became the perfect negative example.
“I heard there’s actually a man in the family… with not even a trace of cursed energy.”
“How pathetic must those two be?
Seriously, how pathetic?”
“What kind of bitter faces do they even have?”
The one speaking was a black-haired boy in an expensive little kimono, chin raised proudly, his face full of arrogance.
Zenin Naoya.
He was the recognized “genius” of this generation in the Zenin family.
Praised since childhood, proud and arrogant.
Today, he had specially “passed by” this remote area because he wanted to personally see those two “trash” who supposedly didn’t even have cursed energy, the complete opposite of him.
In his understanding, having no cursed energy meant being an ordinary person, an ant from another world.
In the Zenin family, their status was probably lower than high-level servants.
He had just run to the intersection leading to the main road when his voice suddenly stopped.
Ahead, Toji and Yukio happened to be walking out.
Naoya had just started lifting his chin, ready to put on the posture of a “genius” and say the mocking lines he had prepared long ago.
But Zenin Toji, walking in front, merely glanced at him casually and indifferently.
He didn’t stop.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t even show emotion.
Like passing by a rock.
Or a weed.
Just like that, he walked past him.
Yukio, following behind, also glanced at him curiously.
His eyes were clear, carrying a bit of confusion, like “What does this kid want?”
He didn’t speak either and skipped after Toji.
The two quickly walked away.
Only after their figures disappeared around the corner did the frozen Zenin Naoya finally let out the breath he’d been holding.
Cold sweat had unknowingly soaked his back.
That instant just now…
The pressure brought by Toji’s casual glance had been almost suffocatingly real.
That wasn’t pressure from cursed energy.
It was something purer, a “presence” born from countless life-and-death battles, like a wild beast.
“Th-That doesn’t feel like a trash person at all…”, Naoya muttered to himself, his young mind heavily shaken.
After the fear faded, an even stronger emotion surged up.
Admiration.
Admiration for that kind of absolute power and dominance.
But what confused him even more, enough to nearly break him, was… That black-haired brat following behind Toji…
That “trash” who supposedly didn’t even have cursed energy…
Why… did his presence also feel stronger than his, a “genius”?
It wasn’t as exaggerated as Toji’s, but he really had felt that faint sharpness, like a blade not yet drawn from its sheath.
‘This is wrong!’
In his understanding, having cursed energy and not having cursed energy should be worlds apart!
Two completely different worlds.
So why was this happening?
The two people who had already walked out of the Zenin family’s territory had no idea what kind of “worldview collapse” that black-haired kid had just experienced.
Walking through the somewhat deserted streets, Toji suddenly spoke calmly, “The family’s final ‘cursed energy compatibility test’ is next month.”
“If they confirm you don’t have even a trace of cursed energy…”
No emotion could be heard in Toji’s voice, “You know the result.”
He understood better than anyone.
The “tests” he had experienced were far darker and crueler than what Yukio was about to face.
What kind of family throws its own young children without cursed energy directly into a pile of cursed spirits for “observation”?
The Zenin family did.
In this family, cursed energy and inherited techniques were everything.
Other families might value those things too, but very few did it as brutally and openly as the Zenin family.
Yukio shrugged carelessly, his little hands in his pockets.
“Isn’t that perfect?”
“I already saw through how rotten this family is.”
“Good chance to leave properly.”
He raised his head and looked at Toji’s side profile, his tone unusually serious, “You’re my only family, onii-chan.”
Toji said nothing, but inside, he felt pretty damn pleased.