Rebirth In The Days When Curse Gao Was The Boss Chapter 17
byDay Seventeen of Transmigration
Since returning from the resentment-filled sanatorium in Hokkaido, the look in Gojo Satoru’s eyes when he regarded Xue Yang had changed. In addition to the previous mix of treating him like an “interesting toy” and a “problem student,” there was now a clear, burning intensity, like someone who had discovered a rare, uncut jade.
The special training immediately escalated, as expected.
It was no longer just simple physical sparring and basic Cursed Energy manipulation. Gojo Satoru brought Xue Yang to the most secluded section within the Jujutsu High barrier, an old training ground that sealed away the largest number of low-grade Cursed Spirits.
“First, we need to figure out the extent of your ‘control,’” Gojo Satoru snapped his fingers. An invisible force instantly tore open a simple seal at the edge of the field, and several distorted, malicious Grade 3 Cursed Spirits shrieked and lunged out.
“Try to control them, not destroy them. Make them obey,” Gojo Satoru stood to the side with his hands in his pockets, his Six Eyes acting like the most precise instrument, capturing every ripple of energy emanating from Xue Yang.
Xue Yang curled his lip, seemingly finding the use of the Stygian Tiger Seal against such riffraff a bit excessive, but he still circulated his Spiritual Energy as instructed. The power of the Stygian Tiger Seal spread out like invisible threads. The movements of the Grade 3 Cursed Spirits instantly froze, the madness in their eyes replaced by confusion and terror. They whimpered and trembled, crouching on the ground.
“Too crude,” Gojo Satoru critiqued mercilessly. “Severe energy waste, loose control. You can only issue the simplest ‘stop’ or ‘obey’ commands. Be more precise. Try controlling just one of them and make it attack another.”
Xue Yang tried to concentrate, sweat once again beading on his forehead. Controlling a single Cursed Spirit and issuing a more complex command was indeed much harder than indiscriminate suppression. The chosen Cursed Spirit struggled violently in place, while the other remained bewildered.
“Sense its ‘core,’ find the脉络 of its resentment, and use your power to guide it, rather than forcefully suppressing it,” Gojo Satoru’s voice came through steadily, carrying a strange guiding power. “Imagine it as… a disobedient thread. You need to untangle it, not snap it.”
Xue Yang closed his eyes and focused, abandoning his previous brutal method. He probed the chaotic core of the Cursed Spirit with his divine sense, like a fine needle. He felt the fear, unwillingness, and pain that filled it. The power of the Stygian Tiger Seal was no longer a harsh command, but flowed like water, seeping in and wrapping around, gently plucking at the threads of resentment.
Suddenly, the struggling Cursed Spirit stopped resisting. It stiffly turned around and lunged fiercely at its nearby companion!
“Excellent!” Gojo Satoru praised. “Hold that! Next step, try controlling two simultaneously and make them coordinate their actions…”
In the days that followed, Xue Yang seemed to revert to a state of being a “beginner,” though the subject matter he was learning was terrifying. He learned how to precisely distinguish the energy characteristics of different Cursed Spirits (which were better suited as cannon fodder, which for reconnaissance, and which held resentment that the Stygian Tiger Seal could absorb and utilize), how to achieve control with minimal expenditure, how to issue more complex tactical instructions, and even attempted to temporarily “store” a small number of controlled low-grade Cursed Spirits within the special space of the Stygian Tiger Seal.
This process was not easy. The consumption of mental energy was immense, and failure was commonplace. Sometimes the control would slip, and the Cursed Spirits would lash back. Other times, the instructions would conflict, causing the controlled Cursed Spirits to fight each other until annihilation. But Gojo Satoru was always nearby, either offering scathing commentary or precise guidance, only intervening when Xue Yang was truly in danger of being hurt.
Xue Yang’s learning ability once again astonished Gojo Satoru. He was like a dry sponge, frantically absorbing all knowledge and techniques, and integrating them with his own inherently cunning fighting style. He began to understand how to use controlled Cursed Spirits as bait, shields, and even for subtle coordination during his own attacks.
During a break in training, Xue Yang sat on the ground resting, watching a few low-grade Cursed Spirits clumsily perform a “human pyramid” under his command. He suddenly spoke, “Aren’t you afraid?”
“Afraid of what?” Gojo Satoru tossed him a can of juice.
“This power,” Xue Yang pointed at the Cursed Spirits. “Controlling vengeful spirits, wielding curses—that’s considered the wicked path here, isn’t it?”
Gojo Satoru tilted his head back and chugged his own overly sweet drink, saying nonchalantly, “Power is just power. There’s no righteous path or wicked path. Used to kill, even the ‘brightest’ power is a weapon; used to protect, even the ‘darkest’ power is a shield.” He looked down, his sunglasses slipping, his pale blue eyes staring directly at Xue Yang. “What matters is the person using the power, and why they use it.”
He leaned closer to Xue Yang, a hint of wildness in his smile: “Besides, do you think I’d be afraid? Even if you could control a hundred Special Grade Cursed Spirits, I could still crush you with one finger. So, go ahead and get stronger, fearlessly. Isn’t it more fun to be strong enough to keep those old geezers awake at night?”
Xue Yang looked at him for a long time, then scoffed and turned his head away, but the fingers gripping the juice can tightened slightly. Gojo Satoru’s “absolute confidence” and “lack of prejudice” was an unprecedented, almost incomprehensible experience for him.
The results of the special training soon had a chance to be tested. A Grade 2 mission: clearing a small cluster of Cursed Spirits gathered in an abandoned factory. Gojo Satoru sent Xue Yang in alone, observing from the shadows.
Inside the factory, the number of Cursed Spirits was significant, but their grade was low. If this were before, Xue Yang would have chosen to charge in and violently clear the area. But this time, he stood in the shadows, his expression calm.
He released a few tamed low-grade Cursed Spirits as scouts, quickly figuring out the factory layout and the distribution of the Cursed Spirits. Then, like a commander in the shadows, he manipulated a few Cursed Spirits to deliberately create noise, luring most of the enemies into a pre-set trap area—a narrow space filled with rusted metal shavings and oil stains.
When the Cursed Spirits were packed together, Xue Yang finally appeared. He didn’t attack directly, but instead controlled another batch of Cursed Spirits, imprinted with his spiritual mark, to launch a surprise attack from the rear! The controlled Cursed Spirits immediately began slaughtering the wild ones. Xue Yang, like a phantom, weaved through the chaotic battlefield, precisely finishing off the heavily wounded or isolated enemies, occasionally using the Stygian Tiger Seal to forcibly “turn” one or two dying Cursed Spirits, making them defect mid-battle.
The entire process was efficient, cold, and possessed a chilling elegance. He used the enemy to dismantle the enemy, barely expending any of his own Cursed Energy.
When the battle ended, the factory was a wreck, and the cursed residue slowly dissipated. Xue Yang stood in the center, breathing slightly, his clothes barely dusty. He felt the faint sense of satisfaction transmitted by the Stygian Tiger Seal as it absorbed the scattered resentment, and the corner of his mouth involuntarily curled upward.
Gojo Satoru stepped out of the shadows, clapping. “Beautiful! Good tactical application. Still a bit rough, but the strategy is completely sound. Looks like three years of dessert tuition wasn’t wasted.”
Xue Yang rolled his eyes at him, but the pride in his own eyes was unmistakable.
“However,” Gojo Satoru’s tone shifted, and he pointed to the wreckage of an inconspicuous camera in the corner of the factory. “Next time, remember to clear out small things like this that could expose your abilities. This ‘talent’ of yours is better kept as our secret weapon for now.”
Xue Yang followed his finger, paused, and then understood. He nodded, making a mental note of the point.
On the way back to Jujutsu High, the setting sun stretched their shadows long. Gojo Satoru hummed a tune, in high spirits. Xue Yang walked half a step behind him, looking at the tall, upright figure ahead, who seemed capable of shouldering anything, then looked down at his own hands.
The feeling of controlling power was indeed captivating. And having a teacher who could guide you and was utterly unafraid of how “dangerous” your power was… seemed, not bad.
He quickened his pace to walk alongside Gojo Satoru, his voice carrying his usual impatience: “Hey, what about the desserts you promised? Training was exhausting, you need to pay extra.”
Gojo Satoru burst out laughing, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Extra! Of course, extra! Today I’m taking you for the limited-edition Devil’s Cake. They say it’s sweet enough to awaken the devil inside you!”
“Perfect, then,” Xue Yang scoffed, a glint in his amber eyes. “It suits me well.”