Night.
Makoto’s body could already get out of bed.
He put on the clothes placed beside him and walked out of the room.
Just then, Toji Fushiguro happened to return.
When he saw Makoto, he did not greet him.
He simply sat down casually, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV.
“If you want food, you’ll have to wait until that woman gets back.” This man was scum.
Makoto was certain of it.
After the economic crisis in 1995, Japan had seen a surge of unemployed drifters.
Quite a few idle men, relying on their decent looks, latched onto women like parasites.
In Makoto’s eyes, Toji Fushiguro was exactly that kind of person.
Aside from Makoto and Toji Fushiguro, there were two other people in the house.
Two infants, both about two or three years old.
“Keep it down, trash.” Makoto walked over, took the remote, and lowered the volume.
Toji Fushiguro looked surprised.
“Someone like you cares about people unrelated to you?” Strictly speaking, they were little brats.
Makoto said nothing.
His wounds had not fully healed yet, and he could still feel a trace of pain when he moved.
“Made up your mind?
Want to work with me?” “I didn’t ask you.” “Hmph.” Toji Fushiguro laughed, because he knew Makoto had agreed.
“Then we start in three days.
With your recovery speed, three days should be enough.” After that, neither of them spoke.
Both also forgot to ask the other’s name.
….
At seven o’clock that night, Toji Fushiguro’s woman came home.
From her, Makoto learned that the man who had beaten him half to death and brought him back was named Toji Fushiguro.
There were two children in the family.
The boy was named Megumi Fushiguro, and the girl was named Tsumiki Fushiguro.
The two siblings were not related by blood.
They came from two families that had been blended together.
Toji Fushiguro had been married once before.
Megumi Fushiguro was the child born between him and his first wife.
Tsumiki Fushiguro was the child born between Toji Fushiguro’s second wife and another man.
The woman was clearly unhappy that Toji Fushiguro had casually brought an outsider home.
Toji Fushiguro had no job, at least none on the surface.
Every expense in this household came from this woman working outside.
For a family with two children, one extra mouth to feed was no small burden.
“I won’t eat for free.
Take these as my boarding fee.” Makoto casually threw out the gold and silver jewelry he had collected.
He did not know their exact value.
He only knew that they were all valuable things, including diamond rings, gold watches, and more.
When the woman saw them, her expression changed immediately.
She wanted to say something, but Makoto clearly had no intention of communicating with her.
He was extremely cold, so she wisely stopped pushing and went to cook.
And just like that, Makoto temporarily settled there.
At the dinner table, Makoto and Toji Fushiguro were both quiet and calm, barely speaking.
Most of the words came from the woman, complaining about work and life.
However, from her, Makoto learned that Toji Fushiguro’s original surname had not been Fushiguro.
He had changed it only after marrying into the family.
….
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
Most of Makoto’s body had healed.
Early in the morning, under Toji Fushiguro’s urging, he began training, or perhaps cultivation.
“Listen up, kid.
I’ll only say this once.” “Failures like us are different from those jujutsu sorcerers.
We don’t have cursed energy, and we don’t have cursed techniques, so we don’t need to consider improving or controlling techniques, or complicated things like technique extension.” “This damned world only gave us physical potential stronger than ordinary people’s.
Physical potential that can’t be exhausted.
So the way to get stronger is simple.” “Risk your life and break through your body’s limits.
You’d better be ready.” When Toji Fushiguro said those last words, he looked utterly cruel.
He would take all the pain he had once suffered in order to kill sorcerers and throw it onto Makoto.
Running, frog jumps, hitting sandbags, push-ups…
all kinds of physical training.
There was no special training method.
Everything was the kind of training an ordinary person could imagine.
The difference was that unlike fitness training meant to strengthen the body and improve health, Toji Fushiguro’s demand for Makoto was this: as long as his arms and legs could still move, he was never allowed to stop.
He had to break through his body’s limits again and again, pushing his physical strength to a higher level.
Makoto did not complain.
Whatever Toji said, he did.
He could tell that although Toji Fushiguro was scum, he was indeed the best possible teacher.
Toji knew very clearly where Makoto’s limits were.
He would not train him into uselessness.
Every time he told him to stop, it was exactly at the limit Makoto’s body could endure.
But the man was also terribly irresponsible.
After only one morning, he lost patience.
“This is boring as hell.
Train by yourself from here.
I’m going to find some fun.” Just like the whim he had mentioned before, Toji Fushiguro’s training of Makoto was also driven by whim.
If he remembered, he would play with him for a while.
If he got bored, he would slip away, go gamble a few rounds, and leave Makoto to train alone.
Makoto did not complain.
He and Toji Fushiguro were neither family nor friends, and he certainly would not treat the other man as his teacher.
If Toji taught him, he learned.
If Toji did not teach him, he trained by himself.
Half a month passed like that.
Toji Fushiguro, who had not been seen for a full week, appeared once more.
“That’s about enough.
Half a month should’ve been enough to restore your body to a normal state.” The first time Toji Fushiguro had come into contact with Makoto, he had noticed the flaw in his body.
It still looked many times stronger than an ordinary human’s, but that was not the level a Heavenly-Restricted Tyrant should have.
He had no interest in asking what Makoto had suffered as a child for him to have nearly ruined even a Heavenly-Restricted body.
All he needed to know was that Makoto’s body was now ready to receive the second stage of training.
It was still training like running, but this time the location was arranged in a mountain.
Makoto had to run from the foot of the mountain to the summit, then from the summit back down to the foot.
During this process, Toji Fushiguro would also personally create accidents for him.
For example, he would uproot a large tree and smash it into Makoto while he was running, sending him flying.
“Do you know the fastest way to strengthen your body’s cells?” “A great disaster is rebirth after destruction.
Every time your cells are destroyed and regenerate, they become stronger than before!” Lunatic!
Makoto cursed inwardly.
After climbing back up, he continued sprinting toward the summit without changing his goal.
Toji Fushiguro grinned and laughed as he followed nearby, attacking Makoto anytime and anywhere.