Chapter 2: First Blood
One month had passed since I woke up in this world.
One month of grueling, frustrating training that had slowly—painfully slowly—started to pay off.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, eyes closed, focusing on the cursed energy flowing through my body. It was early morning, about an hour before I needed to get ready for school. This had become my routine—wake up at 5 AM, train until 6:30, get ready, go to school, come home, train some more.
Every. Single. Day.
"Status," I murmured.
The familiar translucent screen appeared in my vision:
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STATUS DISPLAY
Name: Kaito Yamada
Age: 9 years
Cursed Energy Capacity: 98,547 / 100,000 units
Cursed Energy Control: 10%
Physical Condition: Healthy (Minor muscle fatigue)
Cursed Technique: Needle Compass (Awakened)
Great Sage Functions:
- Thought Acceleration: Available (Max 1000x)
- Cursed Energy Management: ACTIVE (45% processing power)
- Status Display: ACTIVE (Minimal power consumption)
Skills:
- Basic Cursed Energy Reinforcement (Novice)
- Cursed Energy Circulation (Beginner)
- Hand-to-Hand Combat Forms (Novice)
Notes:
- Cursed energy control has improved significantly. Great Sage processing load reduced by half.
- Physical combat training ongoing. Forms are basic but improving.
- Cursed technique operational but untested in real combat.
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Ten percent control. It didn't sound like much, but compared to where I'd started, it was massive progress. Great Sage had gone from using 90% of its processing power just to keep me from exploding, down to 45%. That meant I had more freedom, more options.
I could actually use cursed energy now, even if it was clumsy.
I held out my hand and focused, channeling cursed energy into my arm. My skin took on a faint, almost imperceptible glow as the energy reinforced my muscles and bones. Cursed energy reinforcement—the most basic application of cursed energy, something every sorcerer learned first.
It still felt weird. Like flexing a muscle I'd never known I had. The energy wanted to disperse, to spread out unevenly, but I held it in place through sheer concentration.
«NOTICE: Cursed energy reinforcement stable. Efficiency at 34%. Energy consumption within acceptable parameters.»
Thirty-four percent efficiency. That meant I was wasting two-thirds of the energy I was putting in. A skilled sorcerer could probably hit 80% or higher. But it was progress. A month ago, I couldn't reinforce anything without Great Sage doing all the heavy lifting.
I released the technique and the glow faded. My arm felt slightly heavier, like I'd just finished a set of curls.
The past month had been... monotonous, honestly. Wake up, train, go to school, pretend to be a normal kid, come home, train more, sleep, repeat. I'd also started practicing basic fighting forms—punches, kicks, footwork, defensive postures. Nothing fancy, just fundamentals I'd found in online videos and tried to copy.
My body was still nine years old, which limited what I could do physically. But cursed energy reinforcement helped bridge that gap. A reinforced punch from a kid could hit harder than a normal adult's punch. Not that I'd tested it on anyone.
I hadn't made any friends at school. Hadn't tried to. The other kids seemed happy enough to leave me alone after I'd made it clear I wasn't interested in their games or conversations. Aunt Yuki worried about it sometimes—I could tell from the way she'd ask how school was, if I was getting along with my classmates—but she didn't push.
She was good like that. Gave me space when I needed it.
I glanced at the clock. 6:15 AM. Time to get ready.
After a quick shower and breakfast—Aunt Yuki had already left for an early shift—I grabbed my backpack and headed out. The walk to school was routine by now. I used the time to practice sensing cursed energy around me, identifying the small signatures scattered throughout the neighborhood.
Most were residuals—leftover traces of negative emotions that hadn't quite formed into curses yet. A few were actual curses, but small ones. Grade 4 at best, probably weaker. They weren't threats to anyone unless you were completely defenseless.
I'd been tracking one particular signature for the past week. It hung around an abandoned lot three blocks from my house, and it had been slowly growing stronger. Still just a grade 4, but more substantial than the others.
Part of me wanted to test myself against it. See what I could actually do in a real fight.
The more sensible part of me remembered that I was still a novice with barely any control and zero combat experience.
But that signature was growing. Eventually, it might become a problem. Better to deal with it while it was still weak.
Maybe today, I thought. After school.
The school day passed in its usual blur of boredom. Math, Japanese, science, subjects I barely paid attention to. I went through the motions, answered when called on, and spent most of my mental energy thinking about cursed energy manipulation.
During lunch, I sat alone by the window, eating my bento while watching cursed energy flow through my hand. Small exercises, nothing visible to normal people. Compression, release, circulation. Building muscle memory.
"Yamada, you okay?"
I looked up to find Tanaka standing there, the same kid who'd tried to talk to me a few times before. He had that concerned look people got when they thought you were being antisocial.
"I'm fine," I said.
"You always sit alone," he said. "Don't you want to hang out with anyone?"
"Not really."
He looked uncomfortable, like he'd expected a different answer. "Oh. Okay. Well, if you ever want to play soccer with us or something..."
"I'll let you know," I said, knowing I never would.
He wandered off, and I went back to my practice. I wasn't trying to be rude, exactly. But getting attached to normal kids who had no idea what kind of world they really lived in seemed pointless. They couldn't help me get stronger, couldn't teach me anything about jujutsu, couldn't even see the dangers that existed right next to them.
Better to focus on what mattered.
The afternoon classes finally ended, and I grabbed my bag and headed out. Most of the other students were chatting about after-school plans, club activities, hanging out at the arcade. Normal kid stuff.
I had different plans.
I took a detour on my way home, heading toward the abandoned lot where I'd been sensing that grade 4 curse. It was an old construction site that had been left unfinished—rusted fence, empty concrete foundation, piles of debris. The kind of place kids were told to stay away from.
Perfect breeding ground for curses.
I stopped at the edge of the lot and focused, extending my senses. There. The cursed energy signature was stronger up close, more defined. Definitely a curse, not just a residual. It felt... hungry. Aggressive. Grade 4 for sure.
My heart started beating faster. This would be my first real fight.
"Great Sage," I whispered. "Thoughts?"
«ANSWER: Based on observed cursed energy levels, opponent is classified as Grade 4 threat. Host's current capabilities are sufficient for engagement, but combat inexperience presents significant risk. Recommendation: Activate Needle Compass technique for combat analysis support.»
Right. My technique. I'd awakened it about two weeks ago and had been practicing with it, but only in safe environments. Never against an actual threat.
I took a deep breath and activated it.
"Needle Compass."
Cursed energy flowed into the technique, and suddenly my perception shifted. It was like a sixth sense clicking on, overlaying my normal vision with additional information. I could feel the curse's location with perfect clarity—about thirty meters ahead, behind a pile of concrete rubble. More than that, I could sense its... intent. Not thoughts, exactly, but the emotional weight of its existence. Hunger, anger, malice.
A compass needle appeared in my mind's eye, pointing directly at the curse.
The technique was active, but maintaining it required constant cursed energy output. I could feel my reserves slowly draining.
«NOTICE: Needle Compass active. Energy consumption: 50 units per minute. At current reserves, Host can maintain technique for approximately 32 hours.»
Good. More than enough time.
I climbed over the fence and moved into the lot, stepping carefully around debris. The curse's presence grew stronger as I approached, and I could feel my Needle Compass adjusting, tracking its exact position.
Then I saw it.
The curse looked like a twisted amalgamation of construction materials—rebar jutting out at odd angles, chunks of concrete fused with rotting wood, the whole thing vaguely humanoid but wrong in every way. It was about my height, maybe a bit taller, and it was gnawing on something that looked like an old plastic tarp.
It hadn't noticed me yet.
My hands were shaking. I clenched them into fists, channeling cursed energy into my arms and legs. The reinforcement steadied me, made me feel stronger, faster.
The curse's head snapped toward me.
Red eyes—or what passed for eyes—locked onto mine, and I felt its hunger intensify. To it, I probably looked like a meal. A small, weak human wandering into its territory.
It lunged.
Fast. Way faster than I expected. My Needle Compass screamed a warning, and I threw myself to the side on pure instinct. The curse's arm—a jagged piece of rebar—slammed into the ground where I'd been standing, cracking the concrete.
Shit!
I rolled to my feet, heart hammering. The curse was already turning toward me, its movements jerky and unnatural.
My Needle Compass was feeding me information—tracking its position, reading its aggressive intent, highlighting the way it was winding up for another strike. But knowing what it was going to do and being fast enough to react were two different things.
It lunged again, and this time I was ready. I sidestepped, letting its momentum carry it past me, and lashed out with a reinforced kick to what I thought was its center of mass.
My foot connected with solid concrete, and pain shot through my leg despite the reinforcement.
The curse barely budged.
"Great Sage, analysis!"
«ANSWER: Opponent's body composition is primarily inorganic matter—concrete and metal. Physical strikes will have limited effectiveness. Recommendation: Target apparent weak points or use concentrated cursed energy attacks.»
Weak points. Right. I could see them now, highlighted by my Needle Compass—joints where the concrete and rebar met, spots where the cursed energy holding the thing together was thinner.
The curse came at me again, and this time I focused on defense. I couldn't overpower this thing with raw strength, not in a nine-year-old body. I had to be smart.
It swung its rebar arm in a wide arc, and I ducked under it, staying close to minimize its reach advantage. My Needle Compass showed me an opening—a gap in its torso where the cursed energy was weak.
I channeled as much cursed energy as I could into my fist and drove it into that spot.
The curse shrieked—a horrible grinding sound like metal on metal—and staggered back. Cracks spread from the impact point, pieces of concrete crumbling away.
I'd hurt it. Actually hurt it.
But I'd also used way too much cursed energy on that punch. My reserves dropped noticeably, and my reinforcement flickered for a second before I could stabilize it.
«WARNING: Cursed energy expenditure unsustainable. Current efficiency too low for extended combat.»
The curse recovered faster than I expected and came at me with renewed fury. It was learning, adapting, getting more aggressive.
We traded blows—or rather, I dodged and counterattacked when I saw openings. My Needle Compass was the only reason I was still standing. It let me read the curse's movements just before they happened, gave me split-second warnings that meant the difference between a successful dodge and getting hit.
But I was getting tired. My body wasn't used to this kind of intensity, and my cursed energy control wasn't good enough to maintain reinforcement without constant focus.
The curse's rebar arm caught me across the shoulder, and I felt something give. Not broken, but definitely bruised. I stumbled, and the curse pressed its advantage, coming at me with both arms raised.
My Needle Compass highlighted a critical opening—the thing was overextending, leaving its core exposed.
I gathered every bit of cursed energy I could spare and channeled it into my right fist. No finesse, no efficiency, just raw power compressed into one point.
I stepped into the curse's attack range and drove my fist into its center mass.
The impact felt like punching a brick wall, but this time something gave. The curse's body cracked, cursed energy bleeding out from the wound, and it let out that horrible grinding shriek again.
It tried to grab me, but its movements were sluggish now, uncoordinated. I pulled back and hit it again, same spot, pouring more energy into the strike.
The curse shattered.
Pieces of concrete and rebar clattered to the ground, the cursed energy holding it together dissipating into nothing. Within seconds, all that remained was ordinary construction debris.
I stood there, breathing hard, my whole body shaking from adrenaline and exhaustion.
«NOTICE: Combat concluded. Cursed spirit eliminated. Analyzing performance...»
«ANALYSIS COMPLETE: Combat efficiency: 23%. Energy expenditure: Excessive. Technique utilization: Adequate. Physical combat form: Poor. Injuries sustained: Minor bruising, no permanent damage. Recommendation: Extended combat training required.»
Twenty-three percent efficiency. I'd wasted three-quarters of the energy I'd used. My fighting form was terrible—I knew that even without Great Sage telling me. I'd won mostly because my Needle Compass let me read the curse's attacks and because I had enough raw energy to brute force my way through.
Against anything stronger, I would have lost. Badly.
But I'd won. That was what mattered.
I deactivated my Needle Compass and felt my cursed energy reserves settle. I'd used maybe 5% of my total capacity, which wasn't bad for a fight that had felt so intense.
My shoulder throbbed where the curse had hit me, and I was pretty sure I'd have a nasty bruise by tomorrow. But I was alive, and I'd taken down my first curse.
"Status," I said, wanting to see the numbers.
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STATUS DISPLAY
Name: Kaito Yamada
Age: 9 years
Cursed Energy Capacity: 93,421 / 100,000 units
Cursed Energy Control: 10%
Physical Condition: Minor injuries (shoulder bruising, general fatigue)
Combat Experience: +1 (Grade 4 Cursed Spirit eliminated)
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One fight. One win. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
I climbed back over the fence and started walking home, every step making me more aware of how tired I was. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind exhaustion and aching muscles.
By the time I reached my house, I could barely keep my eyes open. I dropped my backpack by the door, kicked off my shoes, and headed straight to my room.
Aunt Yuki wouldn't be home for a few more hours. I'd heat up dinner later. Right now, I needed to sleep.
I collapsed onto my bed, not bothering to change out of my school uniform.
My first real fight. I'd made mistakes—so many mistakes. My form was sloppy, my energy control was inefficient, I'd taken a hit I should have dodged. But I'd also won, and more importantly, I'd learned.
Next time would be better. I'd train harder, improve my efficiency, work on my combat forms. The curse had been weak, barely a threat by jujutsu sorcerer standards, but it had exposed every gap in my abilities.
Good. I needed to know my weaknesses if I was going to fix them.
As I drifted off to sleep, my last conscious thought was simple:
Tomorrow, I train harder.
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End of Chapter 216