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40.67% Jujutsu Kaisen: Limitless / Chapter 24: Beginnings

Chương 24: Beginnings

Time passed quickly.

For Jujutsu Sorcerers, life was straightforward: view exorcising curses as clocking in for work, and it was no different from an ordinary person's routine.

When not on missions, time would fly by, much like how vacations always seem fleeting. Taking off their ID badges felt no different from office workers loosening their ties.

It was the start of a new school year.

Not that it mattered to Minamoto Sōjun.

However, Mishima Shiko seemed quite interested. When freshmen met her, they'd bow and greet her as their senior.

She still felt a sense of collective pride in the Jujutsu High.

From her, Minamoto Sōjun learned that there were only two new students this year.

The annual enrollment numbers were always like this, raising concerns about whether one day Jujutsu High would face extinction—after all, those with jujutsu talent were exceedingly rare.

Minamoto Sōjun stood barefoot in his living room, his black hair unkempt, and his upper body bare.

On his chest was a dark silver mirror-like surface. At the center of his chest was a black circular pattern, with three twisted, blade-like projections radiating in each of the cardinal directions. Additional fragmented lines spread along his muscles in various directions.

The head of the locust curse had already been assimilated, now housed within Sōjun's body.

These curse marks, their arrangement, and the fly-head-sized runes were not mere decoration but held specific meaning. They were meticulously designed by Sōjun, following the structure of barrier techniques.

Currently, with the limited number of curses he had assimilated, the barrier provided only minimal isolation and protection.

Better than nothing.

At least he didn't need an umbrella in the rain or worry about dust while walking outside.

Sōjun examined the curse marks carefully, adjusting some of their arrangements. A faint black glow flickered, exuding a sense of weight.

Satisfied, he nodded. The barrier was gradually strengthening; it would eventually serve a greater purpose.

Throwing on a jacket to conceal the marks and slipping into a pair of slippers, Sōjun stepped out of his attic.

He was going to visit Yaga Masamichi.

...

"I'm ready to advance to Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer," Sōjun said directly, sipping tea and placing the cup gently down.

Yaga Masamichi was not surprised. Pouring himself a cup, he fetched a cloth to wipe away water stains on the table.

"You should have done this long ago. What surprises me is why you waited until now to come to me."

Naturally, Sōjun had prioritized comprehensive development and a strong foundation. He held himself to higher, stricter standards.

Yaga didn't wait for an answer—it wasn't really a question.

After searching through his drawer, Yaga produced two envelopes. "Advancing as a sorcerer requires recommendations from at least two Grade 1 or higher sorcerers and confirmation of qualifications through multiple missions before approval."

"I've already prepared your recommendation letters."

Raising the envelopes, he handed them to Sōjun. "Your mission records meet the standards as well."

"Mostly?" Sōjun raised an eyebrow, unfolding the letters. One was from Yaga himself, while the other bore the name… Rakuanji Yoshinobu?

Oh? The guitar-playing old man.

Sōjun was intrigued by his technique.

Although Tokyo and Kyoto Jujutsu Highs were part of the same system with their own factions, personnel exchanges were common. It wasn't unreasonable for Sōjun, a Tokyo sorcerer, to have a Kyoto sorcerer's recommendation.

Pocketing the letters, Sōjun sipped his tea in silence. Yaga mirrored him, the two sitting across from each other without a word.

After a while, Yaga spoke first: "I have an urgent mission…"

I win!

Sōjun's lips curled into a smirk, drawing a sharp glare from Yaga.

Yaga's brow twitched, veins popping as he shook his head and continued, "A senior student on a mission in Shizuoka has been out of contact for two days…"

"So you want me to support her?" Sōjun asked curiously. Yaga rarely interfered with him or assigned him missions.

"No. I've already sent second-years to assist. However…" He hesitated, the next words seemingly difficult to articulate.

"So it's dangerous? Not enough people?" Sōjun felt tired of this roundabout conversation.

"The mission isn't difficult, but they tend to forget about recording actions and supervision. So…"

"So I'm just there to assist and get promoted after returning?" Sōjun looked skeptical.

That simple? If it weren't Yaga giving him the mission, he'd suspect some conspiracy from the higher-ups.

"Appearances matter. Will you take it or not?" Yaga was impatient and decided to be direct.

See, you're getting flustered again.

Draining his tea in one gulp, Sōjun straightened up. An assistant role? Honestly, that's where he excelled the most.

"I'll take the mission!"

"You need to reach the scene before the second-years arrive… but they left half an hour ago," Yaga added, sipping tea.

"So, time is tight."

Without another word, Sōjun turned to leave, resolute, not even glancing back at Yaga.

Before he stepped out, Yaga shouted, "Don't forget your uniform!"

...

In Hamamatsu, Shizuoka Prefecture, the sky was overcast.

In a Western-style mansion rumored to have paranormal activity…

"When will this hallway end?" A black-haired girl in a shrine maiden's outfit stood against the wall, looking around impatiently.

The corridor stretched straight into darkness, with closed doors on either side and an eerie silence.

Her voice echoed in layers, distorted as though something in the darkness was whispering back. She shuddered, her eyes darting toward the shadows despite her fear.

Beside her stood a mature woman with silver-white hair, wearing a supervisor's uniform: a dark purple dress paired with a black shirt and a waistbelt, accentuating

Chapter One: The Beginning

Jujutsu Kaisen: Limitless

Time flies by swiftly.

For jujutsu sorcerers, life is rather mundane if you think of exorcising curses as nothing more than clocking in and out of work—just like any ordinary person.

When there aren't any missions, time seems to pass even faster, much like how vacations seem to vanish in the blink of an eye. Taking off your work badge isn't much different from an office worker loosening their tie.

Another school year has begun, but this doesn't concern Minamoto Sōjun.

Mishima Utako, on the other hand, seems quite interested. Freshmen greet her with bows and calls of "Good afternoon, Senpai!"

She still feels a sense of collective pride toward the Jujutsu High community.

From her, Minamoto Sōjun learns that this year, as always, there are only two new students.

The consistently small intake of students makes one wonder: will there come a year when the school has no successors? The rarity of people born with jujutsu talent is a looming concern.

Barefoot in his living room, Minamoto Sōjun stands with his long black hair flowing freely. His upper body is bare, and on his chest, a dark silver mirror-like pattern lies at its center. Around it is a black circular ring with jagged, sword-tip-like extensions radiating in eight directions. Smaller, broken lines branch along the muscles surrounding the pattern.

The head of the Grasshopper Curse has been fully assimilated and now resides within him.

These spiritual marks, arranged with deliberate precision, form specific patterns. Even the tiniest symbols, as small as fly heads, hold significance. They are not merely ornamental but meticulously designed by Minamoto Sōjun following the specifications of barrier techniques.

Currently, with a limited number of assimilated curses, the barrier offers only minimal isolation and protection—better than nothing.

At least he doesn't need an umbrella on rainy days or worry about dust on the streets.

After carefully studying the spiritual marks, Minamoto Sōjun adjusts the arrangement of some lines. A flash of black radiance emits briefly, giving off a sense of density and gravity.

Nodding in satisfaction, he notes the gradual enhancement of the barrier. Someday, it'll truly shine.

He puts on an outer garment to cover the markings, slips into a pair of casual slippers, and descends from the attic.

He's heading to see Yaga Masamichi.

"I'm ready to advance to Grade 1 Sorcerer." Minamoto Sōjun doesn't beat around the bush. After taking a sip of tea, he gently sets down his cup.

Yaga Masamichi is unsurprised. Pouring himself another cup, he fetches a cloth to wipe the water stains on the table.

After taking a sip, he sets his cup down just as gently, his demeanor calm and refined.

"You should've advanced long ago. What I find strange is why you waited this long to come to me."

Of course, it was to ensure comprehensive development and lay a solid foundation. Minamoto Sōjun holds himself to higher, stricter standards.

Before he can answer, Yaga Masamichi interrupts, not needing an explanation.

After rummaging through a drawer, Yaga retrieves two envelopes. "For a sorcerer to advance in rank, they must receive recommendations from at least two Grade 1 or higher sorcerers. Additionally, their qualifications must be confirmed through several missions before the promotion is granted."

"I've already prepared your recommendation letters."

Raising the envelopes, he hands them to Minamoto Sōjun. "Your mission record basically meets the standard."

"Basically?" Does that mean something is lacking?

With a raised brow, Minamoto Sōjun opens the recommendation letters. One is, unsurprisingly, from Yaga Masamichi. The other, however, is from… Gakuganji Yoshinobu?

Oh? The guitar-playing old man.

Minamoto Sōjun finds his technique intriguing.

Though Tokyo Jujutsu High and Kyoto Jujutsu High operate under the same system, personnel affiliations often overlap. It's perfectly reasonable for Minamoto Sōjun, affiliated with Tokyo, to have a recommendation from a Kyoto sorcerer.

He stows away the letters without saying much, sitting quietly and sipping his tea. Yaga Masamichi does the same, and the two sit facing each other in silence.

After one cup of tea, Yaga Masamichi finally speaks first: "I have an urgent mission for you…"

I win!

Minamoto Sōjun smirks, drawing a sharp glare from Yaga Masamichi.

Veins bulge on Yaga's forehead as he shakes his head, continuing after a pause:

"A senior student went on a mission in Shizuoka two days ago and has been out of contact since…"

"So you need me to support them?" Minamoto Sōjun asks curiously, as Yaga rarely assigns him tasks.

"No, I sent a second-year to provide support recently. But before they left, they forgot to…" Yaga hesitates, seemingly finding the words difficult to say.

"What? Is it dangerous? Are you short on manpower?" Minamoto Sōjun grows frustrated with the roundabout communication.

"The mission itself isn't difficult; they just forgot to check in with their supervising assistant before departing, so…"

"So I'm just there for support, and afterward, I'll get promoted to Grade 1?" Minamoto Sōjun looks skeptical.

Could it really be this simple? Were it not for Yaga informing him directly, he'd suspect this was another conspiracy from the school's upper echelons.

"Appearances must be maintained. Will you take it or not?" Yaga's tone grows irritated as he lays everything out.

See? You're getting worked up again.

Draining his cup, Minamoto Sōjun straightens up. Auxiliary support? He's good at that.

"I'll take it!"

"You must arrive before the second-years do. But they departed half an hour ago," Yaga notes calmly, sipping his tea. "So, you're a bit pressed for time."

Without another word, Minamoto Sōjun heads out, determination etched on his face.

Before he steps out the door, Yaga calls after him loudly: "Don't forget to wear your uniform!"

As rain begins to fall in Shizuoka Prefecture, Hamamatsu City, Minamoto accelerates, pushing his limits on the road…

The rain feels like needles against Minamoto Sōjun's face as he sprints through the streets of Hamamatsu City. His senses are sharp, his cursed energy honed, and his intuition screams with every passing second—something here is not right.

The mission's details were vague: a cursed spirit spotted near the outskirts, low-level enough for a Grade 2 sorcerer to handle. Yet, with a senior and a second-year student involved, the lack of communication and strange circumstances meant the danger could be far worse than reported.

He arrives at the rendezvous point: an old, decrepit shopping center, its windows shattered and walls covered in graffiti. The air is heavy with the stench of mold, decay, and something more sinister—an unmistakable cursed aura.

Minamoto Sōjun steps inside cautiously, activating his barrier technique. The markings on his chest glow faintly beneath his clothing, forming an invisible dome around him. It's not perfect, but it will provide a layer of protection against sudden attacks.

"Let's make this quick," he mutters, his voice barely audible over the creaking of the building.

The Discovery

The first body is found on the second floor—a young sorcerer, barely recognizable. Blood pools around them, the curse energy in the air thick and oppressive.

Minamoto Sōjun clenches his fists. This wasn't a low-level curse. No novice sorcerer could survive an encounter with something capable of this.

Before he can investigate further, he hears footsteps—heavy and uneven. He turns quickly, his senses on high alert, only to see the second-year support student staggering toward him.

"Sōjun-senpai…" the student gasps, blood dripping from a gash on their shoulder. "It's… still here. I couldn't—"

Their words are cut off as a shadow looms behind them. A massive, grotesque figure emerges, its form shifting and pulsating with cursed energy. Its eyes, or what pass for eyes, lock onto Minamoto.

"A semi-grade 1 curse," Minamoto assesses, his voice cold and calculating. "No wonder you struggled."

He steps forward, gently pushing the injured second-year behind him.

"Stay back. I'll handle this."

The Fight

The curse lunges, its massive claws tearing through the air. Minamoto reacts instantly, his barrier technique shimmering as it absorbs the impact. He counters with a precise strike, channeling cursed energy into his palm and slamming it into the curse's torso.

The creature howls in pain, its form destabilizing momentarily before reforming. It's fast—faster than Minamoto anticipated.

It attacks again, this time aiming for his blind spot. Minamoto pivots, narrowly avoiding the blow, and retaliates with a curse-infused kick that sends the creature crashing into a wall.

"Not bad," he mutters. "But not enough."

The markings on his chest flare brighter as he pours more energy into his barrier, expanding it outward. The curse roars, its movements growing more erratic as it struggles against the pressure.

Finally, with a surge of power, Minamoto concentrates his cursed energy into a single point. "Limitless: Collapse."

The barrier contracts suddenly, crushing the curse within it. The creature lets out one final, ear-piercing scream before disintegrating into nothingness.

Aftermath

The silence that follows is deafening. Minamoto turns to the injured second-year, who stares at him in awe.

"Thank you, Senpai," they whisper.

Minamoto waves them off, already inspecting the area for any lingering cursed energy. Satisfied that the threat is neutralized, he helps the student to their feet.

"We're leaving. Report everything to Yaga when we're back."

Back at Jujutsu High

Yaga Masamichi listens intently as Minamoto Sōjun delivers his report. When he finishes, Yaga nods, his expression unreadable.

"You did well," he says finally. "The recommendation letters were well-earned."

Minamoto says nothing, merely bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment. As he turns to leave, Yaga stops him.

"There's something else you should know," Yaga begins, his tone serious. "The curse you fought wasn't random. It was placed there intentionally."

Minamoto pauses, his hand on the doorframe. "By who?"

Yaga shakes his head. "We don't know yet. But be careful, Sōjun. Someone out there is watching you."

As Minamoto Sōjun steps out into the evening air, the weight of Yaga's words lingers in his mind.

"Someone's watching, huh?" he mutters, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Let them watch."

With that, he walks away, his next mission already on the horizon.

______________________________________________

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