"In that case, special training starts with you, Sukuna~"
Gojo changed the subject with a snap of his fingers, looking completely relaxed.
"It was originally meant for Yuji… but you're perfect for a little rehab."
Sukuna shrugged at the news, utterly unfazed.
He'd already sensed it: a thick Cursed Energy signature less than three hundred meters away.
The trees blocked the view, but the output felt around Grade 2 to Grade 1.
Prepared for Yuji, huh?
The corner of Sukuna's mouth twitched.
Gojo plays rough… though for me, it's nothing.
He hadn't even seen the Curse yet, but he already knew—it posed zero threat.
Even without his memories or his Technique, the thing couldn't scratch him.
So he raised a hand, aiming in that direction.
Black Cursed Energy flared inside him like a living flame.
Cleave… was that it?
His dark-red pupils narrowed in thought.
Guided by the surging Energy, he pointed a finger—
slowly lifted it—
from high on the diagonal, downward—
and flicked it.
An invisible slash tore through the air.
Every tree and boulder in its path was cleanly halved.
It effortlessly struck the distant Cursed Spirit.
The Spirit shrieked in agony.
A body as big as a building thrashed and writhed.
It looked down at its lower half: only a gushing torrent of black, rotting blood where the cut had been made.
Howling, it spun and fled—the direction of that slash carried a terror beyond words.
A terror that snuffed out even the thought of resisting.
Dragging its severed half, it bolted in the opposite direction.
It didn't get far before its movements froze.
A red line split it from crown to chest.
No final wail—its two halves simply crashed to the ground.
Gojo whistled.
This was the first time—no, the first time any modern sorcerer—had seen the King of Curses' Technique.
Long-range attack, huh… He rubbed his chin.
Three-hundred-meter kill with zero wind-up; ordinary sorcerers wouldn't stand a chance… though against my Infinity it's pointless—unless… His lips curved.
He was already looking forward to seeing Sukuna's Domain. Done.
Sukuna lowered his hand, face calm.
Inside, he was already gloating.
First try after possession and he'd nailed the Technique—Cleave came back like riding a bike.
I'm a freaking genius!
Gojo nodded generous praise: "Nice one."
But when he looked at Sukuna, he burst out laughing.
Sukuna was all question marks.
What now? Why does everyone laugh when they see me?
Gojo pointed at him, then tapped his own shoulder and back.
Sukuna glanced down—and his face turned green.
Two backpack straps crossed his torso from shoulders to waist.
On his back, an adorably ugly tiger-head cursed corpse doll dozed peacefully.
Its cute little ears fluttered in the breeze.
Sleeping like a log.
Sukuna almost choked on his own spit.
I've been showing off while lugging this hideous thing?!
He ripped the doll off and hurled it at Gojo's face.
Gojo caught it, still laughing.
"Careful—it's Yuji's; there's only one."
"Hang onto it for when he gets back."
He dangled the doll in front of Sukuna and amiably offered it.
Sukuna hesitated.
Looking at the doll, every fiber of his being wanted to refuse.
But… whatever, it's the kid's toy. Keep it safe.
He sighed and reached out—
—just as the doll's eyes snapped open.
Its tiny fists rose—
—and smashed into his face with a pop!
Sukuna: …!!!
That bastard Gojo withheld Cursed Energy on purpose!
Sukuna repeated the mantra: you can't hit Gojo Satoru—he's Yuji's guarantor… but he's so asking for it!
The moment the doll struck, Sukuna nearly lunged for mutual annihilation.
Only the certainty that he'd fail held him back.
He inhaled, exhaled… A gentleman takes revenge within ten years.
Once all my memories return, I'll teach that white-haired punk a lesson!
He hung the doll on a branch and watched it shadow-box the air.
That actually made him feel better.
No comparison, no pain… wait, I'm comparing myself to a doll—how tragic is that?
Gojo studied Sukuna's face, cycling through green, white, and black.
This Sukuna's temper is better than I expected.
After all that teasing, he still hasn't swung—nothing like the King of Curses in the records.
Can memory loss change someone that much—or were the millennium-old accounts just wrong?
Possible… He'd ditch the old texts and observe the living Sukuna instead.
For what he had planned, having Sukuna truly on Jujutsu High's side would be ideal.
Sukuna watched the doll a moment longer, then turned with a sour face.
"So what now?"
He added,
"Question: you said you drag the brat out for five-hour nightly training. That's basically the whole night—doesn't he need to sleep?"
Kids who skimp on sleep don't grow tall!
He glanced at Gojo Satoru's meter-long legs and felt his own height under threat.
"Well, that's where you come in~"
Gojo's tone stayed light and cheerful.
"Feel tired after being out so long?"
Sukuna: …Huh?
Come to think of it—no, not at all.
His eyes widened: "Reverse Cursed Technique?"
"Bingo~" Gojo snapped his fingers.
Confirmation in hand, Sukuna lapsed into thought.
As long as he didn't suppress it, Reverse Cursed Technique would auto-fix every physical anomaly.
Exhaustion—mental or bodily—got erased.
So… the corner of his eye twitched.
Don't tell me—this guy plans to—
Heal the kid every night after day-training, send him straight into night-training, then top him up again before dawn so he can train the next day—
producing a Tiger-brand perpetual-motion machine?
He gaped at Gojo Satoru. This bastard's a devil, right?!
But Reverse Cursed Technique can't replace sleep—he still won't grow tall—
He froze, realizing he'd spoken aloud.
"…Eh?"
Gojo Satoru, never troubled by height, fell silent.
He rubbed his chin in serious thought.
Then delivered the solemn verdict:
"Guess he'll just have to drink more milk."
Sukuna: …The hell kind of answer is that?!
Can't we give the kid some extra shut-eye so he can shoot up first?
Oh, right—no can do. They're one step from being caged; they have to power-level now… Sukuna digested the concept of the Yuji perpetual-motion engine and privately lit a candle for the boy.
He couldn't help but mourn for the kid in silence.