The manga he loved so much was no longer just a story; it was a reflection of the hidden laws of a very real world.
Jujutsu sorcerers were rare. But why were they almost all concentrated in Japan? Was this the only place where this concept was so intense, or was there something unique about this land? And the curses—why didn't they appear elsewhere?
If Yuki's theory was true, then maybe Jujutsu was simply an interpretation of that dark energy, shaped by centuries of Japanese tradition. In that case, could other versions of Jujutsu exist around the world, shaped by different cultures and civilizations?
Ryosuke found himself smiling, eyes gleaming with excitement. He no longer saw Jujutsu as just a concept of power; he wanted to understand every rule, every mechanism, and maybe, trace it back to its origin.
But before he could dive too deep into his thoughts, the sound of Yuki's hands snapping brought him back. She apparently wasn't done with her explanation.
"Don't overthink it, Ryosuke; it's just my personal theory. You might come up with your own when you gain more experience. However, it is possible to produce positive energy, even if artificially."
Yuki's last statement didn't surprise Ryosuke. Sensing he hadn't reacted, he thought to respond, but she had already noticed.
"You don't seem surprised," she said. "Do you understand where I'm going with this?"
Ryosuke sighed inwardly. He couldn't keep pretending to be clueless. Besides, he realized it would save time if he showed his aunt his actual level of understanding.
He looked up at her and replied, "Yes, Auntie, I get the logic. If cursed energy is like a negative number, then to get something positive… you could just multiply it by itself! Negative times negative gives positive, right?" He gestured in the air, as if drawing the invisible equation.
Yuki paused, eyes wide. Then she burst out laughing. "You never stop surprising me, my little genius!" she said, shaking her head with a smile.
But Ryosuke wasn't finished.
"But… it's actually a bit more complicated than that," he continued. "It'd be easy to mistakenly think you just need to add more cursed energy. But no, it's not a matter of addition… It's truly about multiplication. To amplify the effect, to change its nature, you don't just pile on more; you have to increase the scale, like moving to a higher dimension!"
Yuki listened in silence, impressed by the depth of his thinking.
Then, in a sudden burst of excitement, Ryosuke raised his right index finger. Before Yuki could understand his intention, he bent his finger with a fierce determination, leaving no room for hesitation. A sharp crack echoed through the air, followed by a brief grimace of pain on his face.
Yuki froze, stunned.
"Ryosuke! What are you doing?! Have you completely lost your mind?" she cried, half-alarmed, half-exasperated.
Ryosuke bit his lip to contain the pain, but a spark of exhilaration still lit up his gaze.
He couldn't fully grasp what he had just done himself. To him, he had to try, no matter the cost. Failure didn't even cross his mind. And if he did fail, it was only a fracture; he was still young. Plus, Yuki could control positive energy, so maybe she could use it on others. And as a last resort, he could always rely on his Overhaul.
Ignoring his aunt's alarmed reaction, he closed his eyes and let his cursed energy flow into his finger, feeling every tremor along the fracture. Then, he applied the equation: he amplified the energy at the point of the injury, as if creating an exact replica of the energy already there.
The result was immediate.
He felt his finger realigning, healing, as though nothing had happened. The pain vanished in an instant, replaced by a soothing warmth.
Ryosuke opened his eyes and stared at his intact finger, almost in disbelief. A laugh, pure and liberating, escaped his throat. It was a success… and he had done it alone.
He looked up at Yuki, eager to share his triumph, but his smile faded when he saw her expression.
Yuki's face had lost its proud shine and was now closed off, her brows furrowed. She was staring intently at her nephew, a hard-to-read glint in her eyes.
After a long silence, she murmured in a voice filled with gravity, almost melancholy, "This world is so unfair…" She looked away, then added quietly, almost to herself, "I think… I'm almost jealous."
TO BE CONTINUED!
Next Chapter: You're not useless, Auntie!