For a while, Riko Amanai sat silently beside Sōjun Minamoto.
Sōjun Minamoto was packing up his belongings—some notes, medical logs... Unlike a typical employee leaving with a cardboard box filled with odds and ends, his workspace was minimal. No water bottle, no charging cable. He just placed a few important research records into the shadow space and was ready to leave with ease.
"Getting ready to go?" Riko Amanai suddenly asked.
Sōjun Minamoto opened a drawer, pulled out the last notebook, and placed it into the shadow space, stacking it neatly with the others. Once he was done, he stood up, looked at Riko Amanai, and nodded.
"Yeah."
"How about grabbing dinner together? I never properly thanked you for looking after me all these years."
"It's not the cafeteria again, is it?" Sōjun Minamoto chuckled.
"Of course not... Come to my place. It's pretty spacious, and I'll cook for you."
"Huh?" Sōjun Minamoto gave her a sideways glance. "You can cook?"
"My cooking is actually pretty well-regarded, okay?" She stood up and tugged at the corner of his shirt.
"Alright then. Just the two of us?"
"Just the two of us."
...
They walked side by side down the path. Riko Amanai led the way, chatting as they went.
Sōjun Minamoto glanced at her, feeling an odd sense of fulfillment.
Before he transmigrated, he'd been in his forties. Though he had no children of his own, he had plenty of nieces and other younger relatives. Honestly, he had always seen Riko Amanai as one of that generation.
But looking at her now—she'd really grown. Her personality hadn't changed much, still familiar, but she was no longer that flighty kid. There was a calmness to her now.
His own attitude toward her had shifted too. He no longer kept things from her, which said a lot. She'd become dependable—a mature adult.
Sōjun Minamoto felt a quiet pride.
"Feels like you're thinking something rude."
"Not at all." Sōjun Minamoto smiled affectionately.
"Ehh~" Riko Amanai gave a playful shiver.
Sōjun Minamoto noticed they were getting closer to his dorm. Not far from it stood a small loft, and Riko Amanai was heading straight for it.
"When did this loft get built?" he asked. When he first chose his dorm, there had been nothing nearby. The closest place was two or three kilometers away—where Shiko Mishima lived.
Riko Amanai turned back with a soft smile. "I picked this spot after I graduated."
Sōjun Minamoto nodded, understanding.
Riko Amanai had real talent. After mastering the Reverse Cursed Technique, she became the second physician after him to possess soul abilities. She wasn't quite at his level, but she was undeniably gifted. And with strong ties to the higher-ups—and to him—if she wanted to live nearby, they'd build her a place even if no dorm was available.
Perks of having lots of space and not many people.
Sōjun Minamoto followed her inside. Riko Amanai brewed tea and nudged him toward the couch. "You don't need to lift a finger—just sit and watch."
She rolled up her sleeves, full of energy.
Sōjun Minamoto sat quietly in the living room, glancing around. The setup reminded him a lot of his own place.
That's when he realized—his place had been decorated bit by bit by Riko Amanai too.
Soon enough, she brought out four dishes and a soup. She pulled him to the table and sat directly across from him, saying nothing, just smiling.
Sōjun Minamoto got the message—she wanted him to try it.
He picked up his chopsticks, took a bite, and slowly chewed. Riko Amanai kept her eyes fixed on his face.
"Well?"
"It's really good," Sōjun Minamoto smiled.
"Of course it is." She relaxed, a playful pride lighting up her face.
The meal passed quickly. Sōjun Minamoto stood up and took out two scalpels—one azure, one sky blue. The first was crafted with positive Cursed Energy, the second with soul power. Both could enhance the respective abilities.
Riko Amanai could use them both.
"These are for you," Sōjun Minamoto said, handing them over. "Also, thanks for cleaning up my place."
Riko Amanai accepted them in silence. After a while, she mumbled, "Shiko-nee helped too..."
"..."
"Anyway, if anything important comes up, contact me through the white bone tree." Sōjun Minamoto reached out and ruffled her hair, overly indulgent in unnecessary fatherly affection.
"You're the only one who knows this secret."
Riko Amanai suddenly looked up and grinned, lifting his palm slightly. "Only virgins think girls like having their heads patted."
"?"
...
Sōjun Minamoto left Jujutsu High and joined the Church of the Stars.
Suguru Geto still hadn't returned. He claimed he was off searching for like-minded allies, though no one knew which remote corner of the world he'd ended up in.
Walking down the corridors of the church, Sōjun Minamoto took in the elegant and refined décor. The place had grown significantly.
All thanks to the dedication of the followers.
They had even split into two factions: the moderate faction, focused on providing emotional support, and the militant faction, more inclined toward exorcising curses. Since neither had caused disruption to human society, they had remained mostly unnoticed.
Within the jujutsu world, there were only vague rumors of a mysterious force purging Cursed Spirits. No one knew the details. Maybe the higher-ups lacked the time to care—or simply didn't see them as worth paying attention to.
Sōjun Minamoto let them expand freely.
At the main hall, he pushed open the doors. At the center, atop the high platform, Shichizai sat cross-legged. Its face was smooth like a mirror, the stars dimmed, leaving only a field of night sky.
Its right arm was tightly wrapped in white bandages marked with seven distinct symbols—proof of its identity: the original heptahedron.
After years of incubation, it was nearing the level of a Special Grade cursed object. Like Shichizai itself, it was still in the process of maturation.
A constant stream of curses flowed into Shichizai, with a small portion diverted into the bandages. As Shichizai grew taller, the bandages crept across the rest of its body...
Sōjun Minamoto leaned in for a closer look and realized it would take a few more days to fully mature.
So he simply waited. Once it was ready, they would enter the non-physical realm together.
...
Several days later.
Sitting quietly at the side, Sōjun Minamoto opened his eyes. As if in response, the stars across Shichizai's face flickered to life.
It stood—now two and a half meters tall, precisely the height Sōjun Minamoto was most accustomed to.
Step by step, it descended through the air from the high platform, never touching the ground. There was no physical contact—Shichizai belonged to the Starry Sky, a title it had given itself. Born free of gravity, it was meant to soar through the skies.
Sōjun Minamoto looked up.
Its former form was now only faintly discernible—roughly humanoid in shape, with normal arms and legs, but taloned feet like an eagle. It had a human torso and head, but no facial features. Instead, a star-filled void occupied its face.
Strange markings covered its body, following the contours of its muscles. They pulsed softly, glowing and dimming in rhythm with each breath it took of cursed energy.
Golden patterns adorned its wrists and ankles.
Shichizai lowered its gaze, inspecting its form with satisfaction. It nodded. More than just the size, it was the strength that mattered.
It slowly clenched its fist. With a thunderous crack, a pitch-black void bloomed in its palm, radiating raw malice. With a swipe of its hand, the void closed and the malice vanished.
Sōjun Minamoto looked up toward the ceiling, his gaze seeming to pierce through the structure, reaching far beyond.
"Soon..."
After examining itself for a while, the bandages on Shichizai began to rapidly extend, wrapping around its entire body in tight layers. The seven symbols arranged themselves precisely on the face, limbs, front torso, and back torso.
Curses had no gender—but Shichizai was Sōjun Minamoto's soul. With that awareness came a sense of modesty. Until now, it had essentially been "naked" in sensory terms. Now, it was finally clothed.
The perfectly fitted bandages gave off a strange sense of comfort and security.
A seam opened across the bandages on its face, and a star seemed to squeeze out. On closer look, it was a pale, glowing eyeball—faint blood vessels converging into a single point in its center.
The eye quivered slightly, then stabilized. It locked eyes with Sōjun Minamoto.
The bandages slowly closed again, sealing it away.
The facial symbol formed the mirrored image of Gluttony.
Shichizai had become the foremost curse on the Curse Side.
Something stirred in Sōjun Minamoto's soul. He suddenly clapped his hands with a smile.
"Let's go."
Shichizai replied, "One moment."
It waved a hand across the inner wall, leaving behind seven markings.
"Was that really necessary?"
The Seven Sins had already become concepts—no longer tied to specific objects. Disgust toward flies, for example, was too literal. Shichizai's disgust wasn't for flies themselves, but for the feeling of disgust. Any instance of that emotion, no matter the source, could feed its cursed power.
"Surface first, then essence."
Ending his musings, at the moment the "target" appeared, the two Sōjun Minamoto stepped into the non-physical world.