Exorcism

When Minamoto Sōjun arrived at the main gate of the Jujutsu High, Mishima Shiko was already waiting in her car.

Her face immediately revealed a mix of worry and frustration.

As soon as she spotted Minamoto Sōjun, her face lit up with relief, but she couldn't hold back her concern:

"Did you ignore my messages last night because you were angry?"

Minamoto Sōjun was taken aback. Have you thought about that all night?

"No, I fell asleep," he replied casually with a wave of his hand.

"But… the messages showed as 'read' but not replied?"

What?

Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her carefully and said, "Don't overthink things like that. Helping you also helps me. We're colleagues, right? If I were injured, wouldn't you step in to help without hesitation?"

She nodded, mumbling softly, "Actually, I also wanted to thank you for the time I got drunk."

Minamoto Sōjun pretended not to hear.

Let's not bring that up again.

Reassured that he wasn't upset, Mishima Shiko regained her energy. She had finally found a compatible jujutsu sorcerer to work with. She didn't want to risk losing him due to a misunderstanding or complaint.

She knew well that goodwill wasn't always reciprocated, a lesson she had long understood. This was why she always responded to kindness with enthusiasm.

Starting the car, she drove smoothly at first but quickly shifted gears into full throttle. Minamoto Sōjun, used to her style, remained unfazed in his seat.

At the Destination

Upon arrival, she set up the equipment and glanced at Minamoto Sōjun.

He nodded.

As usual, she took the first move.

Her fly-head curses were released, clearing out minor spirits.

Minamoto Sōjun was testing the performance of these fly-heads. Weak by nature with limited cursed energy, their small size made their power apparent.

The size of a cursed spirit often reflects its strength unless it has ascended to another level.

These fly-heads belonged to the former category.

Through assimilation, their power had significantly increased, rising from insignificant to Grade 3. If controlled directly by Minamoto Sōjun, their grade could even rise another level.

He observed the fly-heads, occasionally intervening to correct their mistakes. It was akin to training a dog—tap the feeding bowl before meals enough times, and the dog forms a conditioned reflex.

Currently, Minamoto Sōjun was "tapping the feeding bowl." Unfortunately, the fly-heads lacked the intelligence of dogs. Although there were faint signs of improvement, comparing them to dogs would be an insult to dogs.

Dividing his attention, he watched Mishima Shiko.

She charged forward with her blade, directly targeting a Grade 1 curse.

Even within the same grade, differences in strength could be stark. This target was noticeably weaker than the last one she faced, and it didn't counter her abilities.

After a tough battle, she successfully exorcised the curse.

Though she sustained severe injuries, using her blade as a crutch, her face beamed with excitement, entirely unfazed by her wounds.

As expected, as a Grade 2 jujutsu sorcerer, exorcising a Grade 1 curse is only natural.

This is more like it!

She repeatedly glanced at Minamoto Sōjun, signaling with her eyes: See? This is my true strength.

Minamoto Sōjun indeed analyzed her fighting style. Every time he watched her fight, he felt it was excessively reckless.

"To live without madness is not to live at all." She completely disregarded life and death.

Whether it was her own life, the target's, or even the lives of cursed users—she simply didn't care.

Her sole focus was on improving her strength.

Minamoto Sōjun couldn't compare to that. Those who have killed enough know that the act eventually stops evoking any emotion. Yet, every time Minamoto exorcised a cursed user, he felt a nauseating excitement.

If he had to rank what he despised most, it would be as follows:

Balance mechanisms > Cursed Users > Cursed Spirits.

After Cleaning Up

Minamoto Sōjun helped Mishima Shiko walk.

On the way back, he reluctantly took over driving.

He wasn't fond of small cars.

His tall stature made the already cramped driver's seat feel even tighter. It was like a burly man squeezing into a child's toy car, leaving him feeling restricted. The steering wheel in his hands felt more like a toy.

Glancing at Mishima Shiko lying in the passenger seat, he saw her occasionally let out silly chuckles, only to wince in pain from her wounds. Her smile twisted into a grimace, yet her joy was evident.

Minamoto Sōjun could only shake his head internally.

As if things couldn't get worse, they were stopped at a police checkpoint. He had no choice but to borrow Mishima Shiko's face and driver's license.

Mishima Shiko was dumbfounded.

Her face appeared on someone entirely different, yet it didn't look out of place. After observing for a while, she couldn't help but feel inferior.

His proportions seem more perfect. It's not that my face suits his body—it's that his body suits any face.

And… his chest muscles… I might actually lose to him.

Frustrated, she lowered her head, pretending to sleep as the police officer peeked into the car.

Hearing her own voice chatting casually with the officer gave her an inexplicable feeling.

Soon, the officer let them go.

Minamoto Sōjun quietly sighed in relief and restarted the car.

Fortunately, the inspection wasn't thorough. Being caught wouldn't have been a big deal, but it would've been a hassle—and he hated hassle.

The car grew silent, but they hadn't gone far when—

"Pfft~"

Laughter erupted from the passenger seat.

Minamoto Sōjun canceled his transformation, expressionless, and pressed the gas pedal.

Back at Jujutsu High, they parted ways.

Time Flew By

Over time, Minamoto Sōjun and Mishima Shiko developed a rhythm that worked best for them.

Three to four missions per week—enough to avoid disrupting their training while gaining ample combat experience.

The two became increasingly familiar with each other.

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