27 Chapter 17. The origins of the strongest

In a sense, the philosophy of "Fight Club" can indeed be reflected in reality. During a fight, it doesn't matter what you said before or what you'll say after, who your opponent is, or who you are – all those questions fade away, leaving only the present moment. It reveals people in a way nothing else in this world does.

Why am I saying this? Like Sorcerers, Tod and I were opposites – he's a Sorcerer because he lives the way he wants, and I'm a Sorcerer because I want to live the way I want, but I live as needed. Of course, I'm not saying my life is bad; I think quite the opposite. It's about motivation itself. However different we may be, we both hate losing, even more than we want to win.

That's why the philosophy of "It's not about winning, it's about participating" is empty for us. However, there's a modern interpretation that caters to the weak and the loser. Originally, it meant that without trying, you'll never win, not that winning isn't essential.

Again, why am I saying this? Watching Maki fighting, or rather, raging against Miwa and Mai, I envisioned her rising through fifty meters of crap to the top of the Sorcerer's world. In my view, it happened because she put everything into her victory, giving herself entirely and sacrificing everything. Was it bad? Hmm... Probably. But an ordinary person will never understand the winner and attribute it all to talent and luck. I don't think there was anything romantic, truly beautiful, or valuable in that. A flower grown in a greenhouse is beautiful, though it never knew hardship. But a flower grown in the field, enduring wind, rain, cold, and heat, possesses something greater than mere beauty. That's the value I'm talking about.

It gave me immense pleasure to see Maki starting to walk that path, even though she lost in her very first serious confrontation.

"Was it worth it?" Mai cynically asked her sister. "After all that sweat, blood, and pain. Was it worth it to end up lying there like a beaten dog and glare at me?"

"Mai... Are you exaggerating? It's just..." Miwa, standing aside, uncertainly called one of the Zenin sisters.

"Shut up!" Mai interrupted her. "You know nothing! So don't even think about reproaching me!"

"You're still a fool," the battered Maki spoke, leaning against a tree, holding her hand with a shot shoulder.

"What did you say?" Mai asked dissatisfiedly, pointing her revolver at Maki.

"Mai, don't." Miwa reached for her friend to stop her.

"I've always thought that arguing for reconciliation is like having sex for virginity." Before the girls could react to my comment, I found myself beside them. Strengthening my hands with Cursed Energy, I delivered two simultaneous strikes with the edges of my palms to their necks, precisely at the jugular vein.

Thanks to the influence of Cursed Energy, even if only for a second, the amount of blood flowing to their brains decreased to a critical minimum, causing Miwa and Mai to collapse unconscious at my feet.

Beating Maki is one thing, humiliating her is another! Her foul mouth is more suited for [Provocation] than mine.

Shifting my gaze from the peacefully sleeping girls to the wounded Maki, I wasn't even surprised to see an unhappy grimace on her face. Although, coupled with the shot shoulder, cuts all over her body, and pale face, it looked more cute than annoying.

"What?" Maki's voice betrayed uncertainty due to my piercing gaze.

"You're weak."

"Well, thank you, oh Great Sukehiro Yami, for enlightening me on that." The girl responded offended.

"If being called weak bothers you, then you're truly weak. At least that's what my old man used to say."

"What's all this about?"

"Don't you know?" I replied to her question with a question.

"No. I don't know." Maki tightened her grip on her shot arm.

"You and your sister, both of you have incredible potential, but you're wasting it," I sighed discontentedly, scratching my eyebrows. "I can understand Mai; she never wanted to be a Sorcerer, but you... You have such a fire of dissatisfaction and desire, yet you can't grasp a simple truth I've been drilling into you for the past six months: There's no point in toiling if you don't believe in yourself."

"How does that justify my weakness?!" Maki shouted, unable to hold back.

"Why do you need to justify weakness? What nonsense is that?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise, marveling at such childish thinking. "I've seen you fight... It was beautiful. Unlike these two girls, your strikes had weight, but it turned out to be insufficient. Does it need any justification? No. Do we need to understand why it happened? Definitely."

Even in moments when all her hard work didn't bear fruit, this girl didn't back into a corner like a little kitten, she didn't whine about unfairness at all. Squatting down, I carefully scanned Maki's face. Her features weren't conventionally beautiful, but I found her face strangely attractive – wide cat-like eyes and dark slanted eyebrows, sly sensuous lips, and an almost masculine chin. When she was particularly serious, like now, I wanted to capture her in a photograph. A direct gaze, so cold, piercing, and mysterious that it made you wonder what she was thinking – whether about a family trip, a murder, or a stroll through the cultural capital of Japan.

"I remember when I was a kid, when it was tough for me, and my battered body would fall onto the bed in the evening, I wouldn't allow myself to sleep until, like reciting a mantra, I reminded myself that if I gave up, things wouldn't get any better," extending my hand, I continued. "And I know all this talk is pointless because you're much more stubborn and spiritually strong than I am... I just wanted to say something smart and cool."

"Fool..." Maki took my hand.

Without wasting time, I pick up the girl and lift her off the ground, heading deeper into the forest.

I don't think Maki will forgive me if, in addition to her defeat, we also lose the "Team Battle." So without wasting time, I decided to scour the forest behind Kyoto School in search of a Second-Rank Cursed Spirit.

From what Teacher Gojo told us during the preparatory briefing, I remembered little... Well, I simply wasn't listening. Nevertheless, the most essential stayed in my memory, namely that a Second-Rank Cursed Spirit, about to be released on the territory of Kyoto School, cannot be detected by the usual sense of Cursed Energy. The school's territory is filled with numerous talismans directing all Cursed Energy into a barrier covering the school. This means that without supernatural talent for sensing Cursed Energy in a wide range, you won't be able to detect the Curse as is typically done. However, at a close distance, this rule loses its power, and before the Cursed Energy has a chance to dissipate, a shaman can still feel it. Hence, the name "Exorcist Race" is justified because to win, you need to engage in a real race with the opposing team, and compete to see who can exorcise more Curses. Therefore, the most effective tactic should be constant movement... And the team brawl we're having here. In short, finding the Curse seemed impossible, at least by conventional means. So what about unconventional methods? For example, finding the strongest Curse soul in the Spiritual World. Well, turns out Satoru Gojo is not the only cheater in this world.

"Can you lend me a spear?" I asked Maki, who had buried her face in my neck.

Huh? Asleep? It's amazing how someone can fall asleep at a time like this. And she even won't let go of the spear from her grip.

Thinking that the spear was of no use to such a sweet girl right now, I carefully took it from her grip. Gripping the handle tightly, I straightened up, like a bowstring, and hurled it with all my might in the direction of the Curse. In a second, the spearhead whistled through the air, piercing the back of the Curse and pinning it to the ground. I then appeared next to the creature, extending my hand and placing my palm on its body. It took me a couple of seconds to incinerate the Second-Rank Curse from the inside, leaving only the spear stuck in the ground.

***

The first event of the Exchange between Kyoto and Tokyo Magic Schools ended with the Tokyo School's victory. Of course, I'd prefer the word "crush" since not only did I thoroughly enjoy knocking Aoi Todo out of the game, but Panda also disabled Mechamaru 's doll, forcing Nishimiya Momo to retreat. Additionally, towards the end of the event, Mai Zenin and Kasumi Miwa also proved to be incapacitated. However, the battle between Inumaki Toge and Noritoshi Kamo ended in a draw.

Next in line were the "Individual Battles," but due to Maki still being injured, Panda losing two cores of his heart, and Toge needing more time to recover, the decision was made to field Yuta Okkotsu for this event. It was all orchestrated by Satoru, as the morning after the "Team Battle" Toge was back in action, Maki was eager for a rematch, and Panda... Panda was glad to flex his muscles just for the company.

In any case, no one could resist Satoru's decision, and thus, the "young padawan" Yuta faced a serious trial ahead.

It was the morning after the "Team Battle". I stood on the porch of my house, lighting a cigarette and sipping coffee.

Recalling the events of the previous evening, I couldn't help but smile. Aoi Todo, that eccentric guy, barged into my room and, arguing that we were now spiritual brothers, not blood brothers, dragged me into the fun in Kyoto. Honestly, I couldn't imagine that such a battle maniac like him would find such a wonderful sense of relaxation. Of course, as shamans, we can't indulge in heavy drinking, and many other unconventional entertainments seem damn boring to us, but I bet you've never experienced hunting a Cursed Spirit the size of a whale in Lake Biwa. It's funny that after that, we went to a concert with some idols... Although, like a true man, Todo tried his best to ignore the girl.

Ah, Takada, Takada, you're missing out on such a guy.

"Good morning, Sukehiro," Yuta's voice rang out, snapping me out of my musings.

"Are you wishing me a good morning? Or asserting that the morning is good?"

"Um... probably the first..." Yuta answered uncertainly.

Glancing sideways at the guy, I sighed wearily. In a way, he's going through what I went through in my childhood—our "guardians" carrying us through fire, water, and brass pipes without explaining the purpose.

"It's not a test to have the only right answer," I replied to him.

"I'm just a little nervous, that's all..." Yuta awkwardly chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

"Nervous or afraid?"

"What?" the guy was slightly bewildered.

"Do you not understand the question, or is it the wording that confuses you?" I smiled, teasing the guy.

"No, no. I'm just a bit surprised."

"About what?"

"I thought you didn't like me, so I was surprised that you care," after a brief pause, Yuta hastily tried to correct himself. "Not that I mean you're bad or rude, just... Just..."

"I'm quite a bad and rough guy," I spoke up to salvage the situation from an awkward silence. "But that doesn't mean I have any ill feelings towards you. In essence, I beat you all equally."

"That's true," Yuta chuckled cheerfully, scratching his nose.

"So, are you nervous or scared?"

"I don't know... I've never been a fan of competitions. I don't like losing, but winning doesn't bring me much joy either because I realize that I hurt someone," he paused for a moment as if recalling something. "And overall, I don't like the competitive atmosphere. I don't enjoy this tension."

"You still didn't answer my question," I looked Yuta in the eyes. "Are you feeling fear, or are you just nervous?"

"I think both... Of course, I'm nervous about the battle, but I'm more afraid of what Rika might do... And what consequences it might lead to."

"So, don't let her do it," I just shrugged.

"It's easy for you to say. You've been a shaman since childhood; you probably don't understand what fear is like," did I sense envy in his voice?

"I think you're overestimating both me and our classmates," I shook my head, exhaling tobacco smoke, then took a sip of coffee.

Although Satoru is trying to create similar conditions for Yuta. This whole idea with "Individual Battles," constant missions, even more than I had in the last month — all of this should make Yuta grow up as a shaman.

"But if it's so difficult, why not just stop? Stop being a shaman?" Yuta asked, looking down.

"Some people do that. Some, like Maki, would hate themselves for giving up. And some die without ever understanding what they truly wanted."

"How difficult it is to be a shaman," the guy fiercely ruffled his hair.

"You know, I exorcised my first Cursed Spirit when I was seven. I still remember that day. My hands were shaking so much that I couldn't hold a blade. For which I paid fairly quickly," I smiled, reminiscing about the old times. "And two days later, I found myself face to face with a Cursed Spirit again, but this time I was afraid not of the Cursed Spirit itself but that it would hurt me again. It went on for about three weeks until one day I snapped, feeling an incredible hatred towards myself and the Cursed Spirits, and rushed into battle like a berserk barbarian. You know why?"

"I don't know, maybe adrenaline helped?" Yuta asked with interest.

"The thing is, on that day, fear retreated from me, and the desire to exorcise that monster took the forefront. Get it?" putting out the cigarette, I took the last sip of coffee. "Your only way to get rid of fear is to face it every day, that's all."

"Is it really that simple?"

"To change your life, you need to start changing yourself. It's that simple," patting Yuta on the shoulder, I went to check on Maki. "By the way, don't overdo it with the Kyoto guys; they're not as tough as I am."