Rain fell steadily, broken only by the occasional low rumble of thunder.
The weather had been like this lately—a few clear days, then back to endless drizzle. A chilly breeze swept through the fallen leaves, making the grounds of Jujutsu High feel even more desolate. Autumn was quietly fading. Winter was on its way.
It had been three days since the empowerment at the Church of the Stars.
Sōjun Minamoto hadn't left his dorm. While training at Jujutsu High, he received the first wave of cursed energy. After being refined through the Fly Head, the Throne, and the Eyeball, its purity was just slightly below what he could extract from his own negative emotions.
A light refinement was enough for it to merge seamlessly with his body.
Efficient and straightforward.
It worked—Sōjun Minamoto was pleased.
His clones were extensions of himself. On a fundamental level, they could be seen as his many eyes. Whether the curses were channeled into the Eyeball or directly into his body, it made no difference. As long as he didn't interfere, the energy would naturally distribute evenly across all clones.
This wave of cursed energy was minimal. Without his perfect sensory control over his own cursed energy, he might've missed it entirely.
Still, he wasn't disappointed. It had only been a short while, and there were only a few artificial sorcerers so far. This level of output was expected. If it had been more, he'd actually need to stay more alert.
He quickly finished absorbing the curses and sensed a subtle increase in his energy.
With the method proving effective, it was time to officially begin harvesting curses.
He planned to expand the number of participants and find a way to decouple his clones and the Fly Head from needing to stay at the Church of the Stars constantly—so he could focus on other matters.
To do that, he needed to create a system where "believers" could be empowered purely based on emotional resonance. A standardized, automated process.
That included spreading the imagery of the White Bone Tree and the Chōchin'obake quickly, to establish strong faith-based connections.
Human emotions were diverse and ever-changing. Gluttony and indulgence alone weren't enough. By diversifying the powers granted and broadening the emotional spectrum, he could accelerate curse collection.
Sōjun Minamoto mentally mapped out the structure and tested the ideal configurations in his dreams.
...
A few days later, the Sōjun Minamoto stationed at the Church of the Stars began to act.
He arrived at what had once been the main hall of the former Time Vessel Association.
A statue of Tengen had once stood here, but it had been toppled long ago. Now, only a hollow great hall and an empty high altar remained.
The altar was over two meters tall. After surveying it for a moment, Sōjun Minamoto leapt atop it, pulled a few severed fingers to use as cursed objects, and carved a barrier into place.
As cursed energy surged, a smooth, glowing white heptahedron took shape.
He positioned one of its vertices at the center of the barrier, let go, and watched it levitate into place, floating at the hall's midpoint. Four of its seven faces began to etch themselves with distinct symbols:
White Bone Tree — Pride. Tree-shaped, with faint purple patterns coiled around its branches, representing pride and blindness to one's flaws.
Chōchin'obake — Wrath. Gourd-shaped, entwined by orange-red fire serpents, symbolizing contradiction and impulsive rage.
Garuda— Greed. A loop of head and tail chasing each other in an incomplete ring, with a streak of bright blue across the gap, signifying delusion and broken hope.
The Fly Head — Gluttony. A mirrored black void, deep within which glimmered orange specks of light, representing cyclical ruin and bottomless hunger.
The remaining three sides were still blank, waiting to be filled.
The Garuda had been entrusted to Yuki Tsukumo, who had readily agreed. Even counting that, though, three were still missing.
Sōjun Minamoto stepped down from the altar and looked up at the hovering heptahedron.
Once a believer resonated with a side, it would be imprinted with that face, forming a symbolic link. This connection granted power and received "faith" in return.
clones like the White Bone Tree and the Fly Head embodied these symbols, serving as intermediaries. Energy passed through them, then through the Throne and Eyeball, before finally reaching Sōjun Minamoto.
It sounded complicated—and it was. The system was intentionally layered. But with each stage purifying and assimilating the curses, the energy that reached him rivaled the purity of what he could refine on his own.
The system was now mature. It could grow cursed energy independently.
Sōjun Minamoto no longer needed to focus on micromanaging it. Like water flowing downhill, cursed energy would come to him naturally.
The upfront investment of time in constructing a complete purification chain was now paying off—automatic energy gain, with no further effort needed.
It was an efficient trade-off.
Looking at the three blank faces, the perfectionist in him stirred. He frowned, considering who might be suitable candidates.
After a moment...
He suppressed the urge. There was no need to rush. The others could be found—or cultivated in time.
What mattered more right now was unifying the rules for "granting" and "receiving" power.
Using the middle-aged man as a reference: his initial power level roughly equated to a Grade 2 sorcerer. But in practice, his combat strength was weaker. He could easily handle Grade 3 curses, but against Grade 2, it was a coin toss.
Anything below semi-Grade 1 counted as low-grade curses. Barely useful to Sōjun Minamoto.
Artificial sorcerers needed time to adjust to their powers—and even after that, time to grow stronger. If they relied only on devouring curses, their cursed energy would take time to accumulate before showing real results.
So they also had to be encouraged to offer up their emotional value directly.
They needed to understand:
If they embraced arrogance, they could receive the power of the White Bone Tree.
The deeper their arrogance, the greater the power they'd gain.
Others follow the same logic.
This would balance the income and expenditure.
At first, he only needed to maintain a balance between his own "contributions" and "rewards." After that, the believers would naturally begin to uphold the equilibrium on their own.
Once the basic framework was in place, the rest was simple.
Whether it was guiding them to strengthen themselves and improve quality, or expanding the population and increasing quantity, it would all gradually become self-driven.
Sōjun Minamoto carefully inspected the area for a while. Finding nothing unusual, he took another walk around the walls, scribbled some markings, paused to sense the surroundings, then told the Fly Head to bring in a believer to begin testing.
Soon, a middle-aged woman entered the main hall. The moment she stepped in, she lowered her head, her demeanor turning devout.
That was to be expected.
Sōjun Minamoto had already given the signal.
Inside the hall, aside from the heptahedron—which already gave off an extraordinary aura—the surrounding walls and stone pillars were adorned with mysterious patterns. They served no practical function, only to create a religious atmosphere.
It wasn't modeled after any single religion—it was an eclectic mix, drawing influences from many sources. These people weren't truly devout; as long as it looked impressive and the atmosphere was right, that was enough.
Led by the Fly Head, the woman approached the heptahedron and stopped a short distance away.
She didn't dare look directly at it—only snuck a quick glance. Instantly, four patterns flashed in her mind. Her body trembled as she lowered her head and instinctively clenched her fists, placing them in front of her chest.
She was facing the side with the mirror-black hole.
The woman had been chosen precisely because she was among those with strong emotions. Through sincere meditation, she quickly resonated with the gluttony pattern, and a similar mark surfaced on the back of her hand.
The power transfer was a success.
The Fly Head stepped forward, not looking at her but at the heptahedron, as if speaking to her—or perhaps communicating with something beyond.
"It's done."
The voice was deep and slow, solemn and convincing.
"You know what to do next, right?" it added.
The woman stood there cautiously, unsure if the words were directed at her—until she noticed the Fly Head facing her. Then she realized it was.
Her emotions surged. She instinctively rotated her right hand. "I… I understand…"
The Fly Head nodded. There didn't seem to be any problems. Along with the power, certain information had also been implanted in her mind—what to do, and what not to do.
It wasn't strict—just a form of guidance. Only obedient children got candy. They'd come to understand that soon enough.
Sōjun Minamoto had not intervened at all. The method was effective.
From now on, anyone seeking Strength could come to the heptahedron.
As long as they prayed sincerely and offered their "faith," power would descend, along with instructions on what to do to grow even stronger.
The woman was only the beginning. News would spread quickly throughout the Church of the Stars.
And then, the harvest would begin.
Sōjun Minamoto wouldn't take all the Curses obtained—he'd take 70%, give 20% to the Fly Head or other clones, and leave 10% for the believers.
It wasn't because he was stingy—this was simply the optimal distribution ratio he had worked out within the Shrine Domain.
People suddenly granted power that wasn't theirs—especially those without strong will—were highly likely to lose themselves. Leaving them 10% helped lower that risk.
Setting a proportional distribution meant the more they contributed, the more they would earn.
What counted as "contributing more"? Either devouring Curses or providing emotional value. Anyone hoping to go further could only rely on these two paths. Those with ambition wouldn't waste time flaunting their power or breaking laws. This setup helped keep them under control.
More importantly, 10% was the most stable rate of growth for them. Anything more would be overkill—after all, they'd been ordinary people just moments ago.
As for Sōjun Minamoto, he had invested a massive number of Curses at the start.
He had taken on the risk of deaths and cursed energy loss—
High investment, high risk, and a high return—that was only fair.
Imagine it—former ordinary people suddenly becoming Grade 2 sorcerers, and not just one or two, but groups of them.
Based on the current number of regular followers in the Church of the Stars, the total cursed energy he invested was equivalent to that of a Special Grade Sorcerer.
And that didn't even count the losses from early experiments and research.
Distribution complete.
In the end, he gave them what they needed, and in return, they offered their value.
No coercion, no threats. He had provided a chain of equivalent exchange that shouldn't have existed—fairer than even the natural balance mechanism. And in doing so, he gave ordinary people hope...
In his eyes, in the world of Jujutsu, having the power to control your own strength—wasn't that a form of hope?
The framework for the Starlight Project was already in place. The target had been set—either himself or the Curses. It shouldn't affect others too much.
From now on, they would be free to develop on their own. Sōjun Minamoto wouldn't interfere much. If the path strayed, he could always steer it back.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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