After taking care of matters with the Church of the Stars...
Shichizai stayed behind, waiting for the seven sins to fully take shape—only then would he be considered truly complete.
Sōjun Minamoto returned to Sendai, settling back into his routine of commuting between two fixed points. As he gradually closed the gap between himself and the curses, the days didn't feel slow at all. In fact, time seemed to fly by.
"Wait…"
Just as Sōjun Minamoto was about to leave the Kenjaku residence again, Kenjaku called out and tossed him a finger.
"Uraume found a finger. I'll leave it in your care," he said.
Sōjun caught it with precision, glanced at it, and felt a sudden shift in thought. He asked, "She doesn't know about this, does she?"
"What difference does it make?" Kenjaku replied with a dismissive wave.
Sōjun didn't press further.
He was just giving a heads-up—because if Uraume found out the fingers were being stored with him, she'd definitely come for them. And when that happened, it wouldn't be some polite negotiation like, "Would you mind returning the fingers?"
It would be trouble. And to avoid trouble repeating itself, he might just eliminate her for good. A cursed technique and a source of cursed energy delivered right to his doorstep—there was no way he'd pass that up.
So he gave Kenjaku a small reminder: if there were any other plans involving Uraume, then he'd better keep a close eye on her.
But from the look of things, Kenjaku didn't seem to care much.
Which meant Sōjun cared even less.
"Oh right, I'll be away for a while. I'll contact you if anything comes up," Kenjaku added out of the blue.
"A while?"
It sounded like it would be a long time.
Sōjun felt a bit of regret. There were still plenty of good things stashed in Kenjaku's place. The cursed tools alone included many rare items he had never seen before—just browsing them had broadened his horizons.
The sheer quantity was enough to let him conduct his research without restraint.
Thanks to this, he had seen sorcerers from centuries ago, even millennia past, and gained insight into their studies and experiences with curses.
It wasn't that older automatically meant better, but anything that survived this long had likely stood the test of time. Time was the best filter—anything subpar had already been weeded out.
Kenjaku had lived long, seen much, and collected even more.
Sōjun really did love it here.
What a shame.
He tore the seal off the charm wrapped around the finger, re-applied it, then glanced at Kenjaku once more and reminded him, "The research into awakening through cursed objects is just about done… Don't push it too far. Try not to get caught."
It had taken the two of them several months, but they had finally found a method to awaken a regular person's sorcerer potential through cursed objects.
This method was far more complicated than incarnating into a flesh body—completely on another level.
First, they had to identify the right candidate. Then, they would mark them with a cursed seal, which linked the cursed object to the person. The two needed to stay in close proximity for an extended period. Over time, their resonance would increase, leading to a chance at fusion. After a successful fusion, it would take even longer to gradually trigger the awakening...
In short, it was incredibly time-consuming, and the success rate was extremely low.
Sōjun tucked the finger away without saying more.
Kenjaku had immediately brought up leaving, and Sōjun knew this guy was setting things up—probably including something targeted at him.
But it didn't matter.
Soon, he left Kenjaku's residence. The streets remained sparsely populated, and he strolled leisurely through the neighborhood.
This time, he didn't enter soul form.
He'd been researching for a while now. His control over his soul was already perfect, and he had quickly adapted to the power of this form.
...
As he walked down the street, Sōjun Minamoto was already considering ways to counter Kenjaku. The two were still cooperating for now, with mutual reliance to push their goals forward.
They were both suppressing a deep-rooted curiosity about each other—the kind that made one itch to dissect and study the other in detail.
Just as Sōjun leisurely crossed the road, he suddenly felt a chill sweep across the back of his neck.
Tilting his head slightly, he narrowly dodged an incoming ice spike.
Boom—
The spike struck the ground ahead, burrowing deep and sending cracks radiating outward. Shards of ice exploded in all directions, cold air visibly pouring out.
The ice shards shot outwards but froze in place midair, caught by an invisible barrier.
Sōjun glanced over his shoulder and saw a short woman at the far end of the street, dressed in monk-like robes with short white hair.
Sure enough, it was Uraume.
A few cries of pain rang out nearby but quickly faded.
Some pedestrians had been too close and were frozen into pillars of ice.
Sōjun glanced over.
What a pain.
He didn't want to cause a commotion.
He waved a hand through the air, and the suspended ice shards dropped. The cold dissipated just as quickly.
The frozen pedestrians thawed out and slumped to the roadside, one by one.
Uraume watched his actions closely, casting a sideways glance at one of the recovering passersby.
"Heh... still clinging to your humanity, and it's made you weak. Typical of modern sorcerers."
"Ice Formation Cursed Technique: Frost Calm."
She pointed her fingers and activated the technique. A wave of frost burst from her hands, surging toward both Sōjun and the bystanders.
"Hand it over, give me the Suk—"
Sōjun waved her off before she could finish.
The shadow beneath Uraume's feet suddenly deepened, forming a swirling black vortex.
Just as the frost at her feet began to spread, the vortex tore it apart—and then she dropped straight through it, vanishing from sight.
Sōjun gave a casual flick of his wrist, and the street returned to normal as if nothing had happened. The passersby continued on their way, unaware.
He had no interest in stirring up unnecessary attention.
...
When Uraume regained consciousness, she found herself inside a vast temple hall—golden carpets, thrones wrapped in thorns and broken swords, murals on the walls...
A human reclined lazily on the throne, resting his head on one hand.
Her expression, already stiff, somehow grew stiffer.
What was his name again? Sōjun something?
The thought flashed strangely through her mind.
She glanced around from the corner of her eye and realized the throne wasn't the only place he appeared—his shadows filled the entire hall.
Each of them turned to meet her gaze.
It made her pause.
"You ancient sorcerers are seriously annoying. You finally get a second chance at life, and instead of adjusting to the new era, you just make trouble. You're over a thousand years old—try acting like it."
The Sōjun Minamoto on the throne spoke, his tone tinged with impatience.
These clones were created by pushing his power beyond its limits. They couldn't leave the Shrine Domain, but they remained on standby, ready to merge and reach their strongest form.
Confined to the temple, they spent their days training—and killing each other for entertainment. Even Mahoraga was just one among them, and he'd been beaten into pieces more times than anyone could count.
So yeah, they were bored. Very, very bored.
The one on the throne clearly just wanted someone to talk to. He didn't care for a response.
As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his hand. A wisp of black light curled along the edge of his palm as he casually traced a line through Uraume's neck.
Black light filled her vision.
Her thoughts turned to Sukuna-sama, the one she had followed, and the mission he'd entrusted her with.
It seemed... none of it had been accomplished.
"Huff... huff..."
The black faded slowly. She caught a faint glimpse—of her own back?
From a low, upward angle.
She felt something stir inside her.
I'm sorry, Sukuna-sama... I couldn't—
Her body began to dissipate into cold mist, until only her head remained. Her lips moved silently a few more times—then even that vanished.
"What was she saying?" one of the Sōjun Minamotos asked.
"Who knows?"
"Sounded like... something about us being lucky. Born a thousand years too late. Sukuna-sama... something like that."
"Lucky?"
"Hahaha~~"