This kind of training was difficult and painful.
Makoto was not foolish enough to stand still and let Toji Fushiguro smash him away.
After passing through the initial stage of unfamiliarity, Makoto gradually began dodging the trees, rocks, and other objects that could come flying at him from any direction at any moment.
Toji Fushiguro did not stop him.
This training had another purpose to begin with.
It was meant to temper Makoto’s superhuman five senses.
To ordinary people, their five senses were already monstrous.
They could even perceive cursed spirits without the assistance of cursed tools.
But if they wanted to fight first-rate jujutsu sorcerers and cursed spirits, they had to polish their senses to the absolute limit.
That was their greatest weapon against sorcerers, a way to oppose the sorcerers’ cursed technique perception.
This training left Makoto covered in wounds every time he returned to the Fushiguro household.
But by the next day, the terrifying body granted by Heavenly Restriction would fully recover, and his physical strength would become the slightest bit stronger than the day before.
This was the “destruction” and “regeneration” Toji Fushiguro had spoken of.
As Toji Fushiguro put it: This was not a training method ordinary people could use.
Only dregs abandoned by the world like them could enjoy it.
Since they were dregs, there was no need to care about consequences.
Whatever method made them stronger fastest was the method they would use.
Another half month passed like that.
By now, Makoto had been receiving Toji Fushiguro’s training for a full month.
As Makoto sprinted through the mountain, his body suddenly dipped.
He supported himself with one hand and launched into the air, dodging a huge rock that came from behind.
With a rumble, the boulder smashed a small crater into the mountainside.
The violent tremor startled birds on the branches into flapping away in panic.
Makoto did not stop moving.
He stepped onto a tree trunk, pushed off again with both feet, and shot forward like an arrow.
Another rumble followed.
The tree he had just stepped on was snapped in half by a horizontal stone flying in from the side.
“Dodged again?
He’s grown this much in only a month.
Was I this fast back then?” While training him, Toji Fushiguro could not help comparing Makoto to himself.
Then he discovered that he had never thought about that question before.
He had never recorded his own training.
“The difficulty goes up now, kid.” Makoto heard Toji Fushiguro’s words beside his ear.
The next second, he felt a stone strike his body.
It was no longer a massive boulder, but a stone only the size of a fist.
Makoto let out a pained grunt.
That was with Toji Fushiguro holding back.
Otherwise, with that lunatic’s combat power, any stone he threw would be no weaker than a sniper rifle.
That day, Makoto was injured worse than ever before.
When he returned, his whole body was covered in bruises.
But that did not mean his training for the day was over.
After dinner, he still had to run to an empty place and strike wooden posts.
“Refining cursed energy from the faint spark of emotion, and not wasting cursed energy even when emotions surge, is required training for jujutsu sorcerers.” “As for us, since we can’t refine any cursed energy, we have to learn how to use every sliver of power contained in our bodies.” “You’ve got enough old martial-arts common sense to understand what I mean, right?” Makoto understood, of course.
A simple example: if an ordinary human’s strength value was 100 points, then under normal circumstances, most people could only exert 60 points, or even less.
Because they did not know how to use it.
Even professional boxers, who knew how to use power from the waist, abdomen, and the rest of the body to coordinate with their punches, could only make their striking output approach 100 points as much as possible.
But it was only approaching.
They still could not reach 100 percent.
To truly release all 100 points, to truly bring out all of one’s potential or even surpass it, only the martial arts masters on TV could manage that.
But reality was not a TV drama.
There were no martial arts masters here, and no secret manuals.
If someone wanted to draw out the greatest potential of their own body, they had to make use of even their breathing.
Not the kind of Breathing Styles from Demon Slayer, but coordinating one’s breathing with every punch, seeking to strike with the greatest possible output.
“Not just breathing.
If you want true perfection, you also have to control your emotions.
The human brain is complicated.” Toji Fushiguro rarely appeared here.
He wore everyday clothing: a black fitted tank top, loose white pants below, and black cloth shoes on his feet.
It was not any currently fashionable outfit.
It looked more like training clothes.
“Got work?” “Yeah.
Target’s a Grade 2 sorcerer.
Supposedly he’ll be going out tonight to exorcise a cursed spirit.
He’s been staying inside Jujutsu High before this, which made it hard for me to act.” A jujutsu sorcerer went to exorcise a cursed spirit, while Toji Fushiguro went to kill the sorcerer who exorcised cursed spirits.
Without a doubt, this man was up to no good again.
But Makoto was already used to it.
Whether humans lived or died did not fall within Toji Fushiguro’s considerations.
All he knew was that killing that sorcerer would earn him money.
A lot of money.
“What?
Interested?” “No.
I just want to know what grade my current combat strength would receive in the jujutsu world.” “Who knows?” Toji Fushiguro did not care about such things.
Human laws, including the laws of the jujutsu world, could not bind him.
The jujutsu world classified him as a Grade 1 sorcerer, but if the money was enough, even if the target were Special Grade, Toji Fushiguro would still kill them.
“If you want to know, I’ll fight you after I come back from slaughtering that sorcerer.
Then I’ll tell you.” “Fine.” Truly to his taste.
Toji Fushiguro discovered that someone with Makoto’s personality suited him quite well.
He quickly vanished from Makoto’s sight, melting into the night as he headed toward his target.
….
Night, 9:30 p.m.
A black sedan assigned to Jujutsu High stopped outside a school.
“The target of this mission is a Grade 2 cursed spirit.
I’ve already lowered a Curtain in advance.
The cursed spirit’s technique is unknown.
None of the sorcerers who entered recently came back alive, so please be careful.” Curtain.
It was a technique similar to a barrier.
Before jujutsu sorcerers exorcised cursed spirits, they would set a Curtain over the battlefield in advance.
The purpose and function of the Curtain were very simple: to prevent ordinary people from discovering battles between sorcerers and curses, and to make ordinary people believe that no extraordinary power existed in this world.
Put simply, it was a cognitive filter.
Ordinary people could still see the scenery inside a Curtain with their naked eyes.
A school would still be a school, a hospital would still be a hospital, but everything that happened inside would be filtered out by the Curtain.
“What are the casualties inside the school?” the two Grade 2 sorcerers in the car asked.
“Are there still students inside?” There was no answer.
Only silence.
“I understand.
I’ll exorcise the cursed spirit as quickly as possible.
After all, the reason we jujutsu sorcerers exist is to protect ordinary people from being harmed by curses.” He opened the car door and stepped out with a solemn expression, staring straight at the school inside the Curtain, quiet as a ghost town.
“I don’t have time to wait for you to exorcise the cursed spirit before I act.” At that moment, Toji Fushiguro’s voice suddenly sounded beside their ears.
He was crouching atop a utility pole.
The snake-like cursed spirit Makoto had seen before was wrapped around his upper body, and he held a large blade resting on his shoulder as he looked down at the sorcerers below.
“Who…” “You’re…” “The Sorcerer Killer, Toji Fushiguro!”