Mount Justice

July 20th , 07:23 EDT

I didn't stop training until my shirt was drenched in sweat several times over. By then, morning had arrived. I regenerated my brain, getting past the need for sleep once more and also healing the part of my brain responsible for my cursed technique.

I went to my private quarters and hit the showers. Then I went to the kitchen to get some food. I spotted the pot I used to cook rice and eat that and the steak. Uncleaned.

I slapped my forehead. Of course. This place didn't have any house help. What a drag.

I used Blue to rip all the dirt from the pot, but I ended up accidentally denting the pot—badly. Shit.

More control. I tried to force the pot back into straightness, and achieved some success. The bumps on the side were still slightly visible, and the pot's bottom was a little deformed, but it was more or less whole.

I decided to wash it instead, and then put it back where it belonged—in some cupboard.

Rather than get out more rice and go through the trouble of making breakfast, I got some western breakfast cereal and some milk. Thankfully, I wasn't lactose intolerant, otherwise making breakfast would have been such a pain.

I was really starting to figure out what it meant to have the reverse cursed technique, or positive energy. Multiplying the negative energy against itself produced an inherently productive power that allowed me to circumvent exhaustion itself.

And what it did to Limitless was… nothing short of astounding. By pushing positive energy into Limitless, not enough to summon the Cursed Technique Reversal: Red, I could lengthen the duration of my Infinity so that I didn't need to consciously hold it. I could tell that soon, I would even be able to give my Infinity technique commands for what it could and couldn't let through, thus giving me an auto-tuning force field that I could wear in daily life without impeding myself at all. Perhaps I could even go to sleep and be entirely safe, if I had a mind to.

Not that I did. Without the need for sleep, I suddenly had eight more hours that I could spend on getting stronger. The computer's training exercise yesterday had evolved my powers a little bit, and I knew that the more I practiced, the better I would get. Perhaps someday, I might really be able to clean a dirty pot just by using Blue.

Soon to enter the kitchen was Superboy. He saw me and frowned, saying nothing as he rummaged through the fridge, bringing out a plastic lunchbox and leaving.

"Superboy," I called out. He stopped and turned to me with a frown.

"What?"

"Why are you so angry?" I asked him in Japanese, tilting my head in confusion. "Surely it can't just be me."

"It's mostly you," Superboy told me.

"And what about the rest?"

"That's none of your business," he told me.

I clicked my tongue, "That's not a very creative answer, Superboy. I'm sure you can come up with something better. Humor me!"

Superboy stomped over to me and looked up at me slightly with a glare. "What is your game?"

"I'm glad you asked!" I grinned. "My game is everything. Nothing is beyond my reach, nothing really scares me, least of all that anger of yours. And frankly, the more you try to hide things from me, the more curious I'll get."

"What, so you're a sociopath?" Superboy spat.

"When it counts," I shrugged. "Don't waste your time trying to dress my moral character down. Let me be the first to tell you that you are right to be angry at me. I have no respect for you. I can count on half a hand how many people in my world I respect. And now that I'm here, that list has shortened dramatically. But let me tell you something, Superboy," I grinned mockingly, "You need to put a leash on that anger and make it work for you. Otherwise, you'll just be swiping your paws at the air like an irritated cat, achieving nothing."

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"And why should I take your advice?" Superboy asked me.

"It's your choice whatever advice you take," I said, "But I am curious about something. Does this anger have anything to do with your relationship with Superman?" He started breathing harder. He wasn't stupid, I knew that much. Throwing a punch would be futile. He should know this. And besides, he was supposed to be a hero, wasn't he? "I'm curious. He seemed like a good guy when I talked to him. Is he secretly a bastard of some kind? And is he your older brother or your father?"

Superboy stepped back and looked down on the floor. "I'm his clone."

My eyes widened at that, "You don't say."

He glared at me, "What about it?"

I raised my hands in surrender, "I have nothing against clones. I'm just amazed at the technology of this world, that it could create someone like you. I take it Superman didn't do this?"

"No," he said, "I was born in a facility, created to replace Superman, should he turn from the light. But I chose my own path instead. And the reason I'm angry is because they made me that way. Because they wanted me to be a weapon."

Something about that stirred my heart—totally against my will at that. Annoying. Why was I feeling a bit of kinship towards this guy now? Oh well, I didn't hate pitiful human weapons like him.

I cracked a grin, and against my better judgment, I shared something about myself. "When I was born, I inherited a rare cursed trait from my family, as well as a powerful cursed technique that, when used in combination, would ensure that I would become the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer in the world."

"Why are you telling me this?" Superboy frowned.

I sighed, chuckling in self-deprecation, "I know what it feels like to be born a human weapon. Take my advice—your makers can never be as strong as you are. The only thing they can rely on is manipulation to control you."

"I'm not too worried about that," Superboy scoffed. "The facility burned down and the head scientist was arrested."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "And then you were recruited by the Justice League. Isn't that just another group of people telling you what to do?"

"You're trying to turn me against the League?" Superboy snarled.

"Figure out what you want in life," I said, "And ask yourself whether it's you who want it or whoever's holding your leash. You'll never stop being a human weapon, but at least you'll be able to wield yourself instead of having others wield you."

Superboy furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me for a moment. "How did you do it?"

"I realized that nothing mattered except for my own opinion—who to respect, who to listen to, who to love. I was ruthless in cutting off every bond that didn't serve me. Even my parents weren't spared from this. I realized that no one held my best interest in the same priority as I ever could, so I followed my heart. Those who remained in my good graces, I made sure to let them understand the consequence of disappointing me. I made sure to let them know I wasn't afraid to abandon anyone." I widened my grin and bowed to get closer to his face. "Don't be afraid to stand alone, Superboy. Humanity is mostly disappointing, and you're going to have a hard time if you desire approval too much, or companionship, or love. Especially from a particular person. If you want to crack the code to life like I did, view your company as priceless, your esteem as paramount."

He looked down in contemplation, and then turned around. And walked away. I let him.