Chapter 35: The Strongest Freshman in History

“Ahahaha! I’m so satisfied! So, so satisfied!!!”

“Haaah… Why me…”

“These eyes are amazing…”

Yaga clutched his head, groaning as he looked at the trio who stormed into the classroom like nothing had happened.

He had to be their homeroom teacher for an entire year?

He could already see it—he was going to go bald and develop stomach cancer.

‘Master Tengen, please grant me your protection…!!’

But he had no choice.

Letting out a deep sigh, he finished his silent prayer, stomped up to the podium, and glared at the three troublemakers—no, particularly at two of them.

He had thought they were just Reverse Cursed Technique users meant to support others.

But to think they’d be such absurd powerhouses—and just as much trouble as that damn Gojo.

It was almost enough to make him faint.

But what was done was done.

“You two!!!”

“Eh?”

“Yeah?”

“‘Yeah’?! You’re supposed to say ‘I’m sorry’!!! Who the hell told you it was okay to spar during class?! And to go at it like you were trying to kill each other?! You’re supposed to be comrades! And yet!!!”

“What? It’s not like anyone died. I knew I wouldn’t kill him.”

“Hah? I’m the strongest, remember? There’s no need to worry”

“Hahahaha…”

Seeing only Geto give a wry smile, Yaga couldn’t help but clutch his neck in frustration.

He tried to clean up the mess, but by then, the fight had already escalated far beyond the classroom.

The higher-ups, who had assumed that Ieiri Shoko was merely a reverse technique user, were now left reeling at her overwhelming strength—and unsure of what to do.

They seriously considered killing her due to her uncontrollability.

But she was the only one who could use Reverse Cursed Technique on others.

She was the only one capable of reversing their aging.

Realizing that killing her would mean forfeiting the ability to receive her healing, the higher-ups ultimately decided to spare her… but not without shackling her.

That shackle was none other than the title of Special Grade.

And so, Ieiri Shoko of Jujutsu High’s first-year class became the second Special Grade sorcerer in the jujutsu world, joining Tsukumo Yuki.

Not long after, Gojo Satoru became the third.

***

Regardless of the Special Grade title, I, Ieiri Shoko, was continuing to study my newly awakened Six Eyes and the technique Limitless.

“Truly impressive. So this is what Six Eyes are like…”

The Limitless technique was also incredible.

To manipulate attraction and repulsion… it seemed like a perfect fit for swordsmanship.

And what came to mind was a particular sword style from the world of Night Run.

A technique known as Divine Sword.

‘I’m still too weak to enter that world and learn it properly. But… if I create a simplified version of it myself, maybe it’s possible?’

With that in mind, I began developing a new sword style using Limitless as the foundation.

At the same time, I continued adapting to the dual powers I now held.

For reference, Gojo Satoru was learning his newly acquired Cursed Spirit Manipulation from Geto Suguru.

Well, that was their business.

As for me, I was solely focused on sharpening my own strength—cutting through my limits each day to become stronger.

***

“Ueueeegh!!! You’ve been eating this every day?!”

“Hahaha, yeah, the taste’s a little rough, huh?”

“This is insane!! It tastes like mop water with noodles boiled in it without soup seasoning!!!”

“Nice metaphor.”

“How do you even eat this?! I can’t! No way!!!”

“Really? Well then, I guess my technique carved into you will just go to waste?”

“Tanghulu! Let’s make it like tanghulu!!! Just coat it in sugar!!!”

Geto blinked at the unexpected suggestion.

Coating it… with sugar?

Would that help mask the taste?

Tempted for a second, he shook his head and gave Gojo a dry smile.

Indeed, the technique Gojo was learning was his own: Cursed Spirit Manipulation.

To think it could be copied so easily…

Even though he believed they were both the strongest, this stung a little.

Meanwhile, Gojo was just sticking his tongue out and babbling nonsense.

“Ube-be-be-be…”

“By the way, Satoru. Why’d you copy my technique and not hers?”

Watching Gojo act like that, Geto suddenly felt ridiculous for even taking this seriously.

But the question had been bothering him.

Why had Gojo gone out of his way to copy his technique?

It wasn’t that he lacked pride in it, but with the Six Eyes, surely Gojo could tell that hers was superior.

Even hearing about it was enough to know—her technique allowed her to slice through anything, cutting past all limits to grow infinitely stronger.

A total cheat of a technique.

So why…?

When asked, Gojo’s face twisted in disgust.

“Huh?! Her technique? You really thought that was usable? That thing’s totally different, you know??”

“Huh? Doesn’t she just slice through things?”

“I mean, sorta. But it’s a bit more complicated. Look, the technique does let her cut through anything—but the problem is the act of cutting itself. That sh*t’s insanely hard!”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay, even if you’ve got Six Eyes and a sword, you can attempt to cut. But think, Suguru. Can you slice steel with a kitchen knife? Without any extra power?”

“…What?”

“Exactly!!”

Gojo clapped his hands dramatically and looked at the dumbfounded Geto.

“Her technique lets her try to cut anything. But the heavier and more meaningful the target, the harder it gets—exponentially so. The way I see it, slicing limits or space itself requires skill equivalent to slicing steel like it’s tofu—with a kitchen knife, and no extra power!!”

“…Haahhh???”

“Even for a genius like me, that’s pushing it. Maybe if I trained obsessively with a sword for like ten, fifteen years…”

“Then what about her…?”

“From what I can tell, she’s been training since she was a kid. And on top of that, her talent might rival mine. So that’s why she can pull it off.”

“…I see. That’s why you didn’t take her technique.”

“Exactly. Even if I copied it, I wouldn’t be able to use it properly without dedicating decades to sword training.

So why bother? Cursed Spirit Manipulation is way more practical!!!”

At that, Geto could only nod in agreement.

Considering how long that kind of mastery would take, Gojo’s decision made sense.

Especially for people like them, who were still living their youth—ten or twenty years felt like a lifetime.

So Geto understood.

And yet…

‘…If you’re going to take my Cursed Spirit Manipulation… then, Satoru… how am I ever supposed to catch up to you?’

That idea—that the two of them were the strongest—was that just a lie now?

Clenching his fists, Geto glanced over at the infirmary.

More precisely, at Ieiri Shoko, who would be inside.

Maybe… just maybe, with her theories, he could find a way to grow stronger too.