The magnetic field rotation that began in Jujutsu Kaisen

By the time I got back to my rented house in Saitama Prefecture, it was already getting dark.

Dong Yangping told the driver to leave the car behind.

"The car is parked here."

Dong Yangping instructed the driver, Tanaka, "Starting tomorrow, you don't need to pick me up and drop me off every day. But the food must be delivered on time every day—I've already sent the list to your email; prepare three times the amount."

Tanaka bowed respectfully: "Understood, young master. As for the master..."

I will explain to my father.

Dong Yangping waved his hand: "You just need to do what I tell you. Also, arrange for someone to deliver a few of the latest models of computers and a full set of office furniture tomorrow. I want to transform this place into a space where people can live and work long-term."

"Do you need to buy this house?"

Tanaka asked, "Or should we buy all the plots of land nearby?"

Dong Yangping hesitated for a moment.

He did think about it.

Buying this area, completely transforming it, building his own safe house, and even constructing an underground training ground—with his family's wealth, this wouldn't be difficult.

But in the end, he shook his head.

"Not for now."

Dong Yangping looked at Shen Er's quiet detached house, where warm light shone from the windows.

"This is fine as it is. Making too much noise would only attract attention."

After seeing Tanaka off, Higashiyohei returned to his room.

The 20-square-meter single room seemed empty at the moment. Apart from the wooden boxes containing weapons and protective gear that had been moved in yesterday, there was only a box of spellbooks that had just been brought back from the Tibetan Library piled up in the corner.

He opened the box and casually picked up the top book—"The Nature of Cursed Power: From Beginner to Understanding".

The cover is handwritten, with neat handwriting, clearly not a printed product.

Turn to the first page:

"Cursed power originates from the negative energy overflowing from human emotions. Fear, hatred, anger, anxiety... the accumulation of these emotions forms cursed power, and when cursed power reaches a certain level, it manifests as a 'cursed spirit'..."

Dong Yangping quickly glanced through a few pages, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

It's not that the content is too difficult—on the contrary, it's too basic.

It's so basic it's almost like looking at a kindergarten textbook.

The problem is that these most basic things are knowledge from a completely different world to him.

"Those who can see magical power are called 'magicians.' Those who cannot see magical power but can sense its existence are called 'windows.' The vast majority of ordinary people are completely unable to sense magical power..."

Dongyang Ping closed the book and rubbed his temples.

This knowledge is important, but now is not the time to delve into it.

What he lacks most right now is time.

2002 years.

The story of Huaiyu begins in 2006, four years from now.

But these four years are not a safe period.

In this world, danger can strike at any moment—cursed spirits don't appear according to the plot's timeline, and battles between sorcerers don't wait for him to be ready.

"Four years... there's no need to worry too much..."

After all, 20 years have passed. Stepping into the world of sorcery may bring some troubles that are not usually noticed.

Dong Yangping stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window, night had completely enveloped the residential area.

A few scattered lights can be seen in the distance, and the chirping of insects can be heard nearby.

Calm and peaceful.

But this calm is false.

He knew that beneath the surface of this world, curses were breeding, cursed spirits were roaming, and sorcerers and curse masters were fighting in the shadows.

And he, a being without magical power, unable to see magical spirits, yet possessing a physical body beyond that of ordinary people, occupies an extremely awkward position in this world—

He was neither an ordinary person nor a sorcerer.

They are outliers.

"I must become stronger," Dong Yangping muttered to himself, "stronger in every sense of the word."

Strength, speed, stamina, reaction time, combat skills, knowledge of spells, use of spell tools, network of connections...

Everything needs to be improved.

Only by being strong enough can one survive in this world.

Otherwise, the only way out is to escape—to flee abroad, away from Japan, the center of sorcery activities.

But Dongyangping didn't want to escape.

If you've already time-traveled, why would you run away? Wouldn't that mean you'd wasted your time travel?

He turned around and began planning his training schedule for the next few months.

The next morning, at five o'clock.

Dongyang Ping woke up right on time.

He hardly needs an alarm clock—his biological clock, developed over twenty years, is as precise as an atomic clock.

After a quick wash, he changed into his specially made training clothes.

This garment is made of high-strength fibers that can withstand the rapid expansion of his muscles during training without tearing.

First, morning runs.

This is not your average jog.

When Dong Yangping left home, it was still not fully light. He began to accelerate along the paths in the residential area, his speed increasing.

Five minutes later, he had reached a speed of 40 kilometers per hour—the limit for world-class sprinters.

But he wasn't sprinting; he was running a marathon.

His breathing was steady, his steps even, each step making a dull thud on the ground, causing the concrete pavement beneath his feet to vibrate slightly.

As it ran across an open space, several early-rising crows were startled and flew away.

They circled in the air, emitting piercing cries, yet dared not approach Dongyangping—it was the instinctive fear of a apex predator.

One hour, fifty kilometers.

When Dong Yangping returned to his residence, he was only covered in a thin layer of sweat.

For him, this level of aerobic exercise was just a warm-up.

The real training is just beginning.

At 7:00 a.m., Tanaka arrived with the first batch of supplies.

It's not food, it's training equipment.

Six strong men used a forklift to unload specially made metal boxes from a truck.

"Young Master, the items you ordered a few months ago have arrived."

Tanaka opened one of the boxes, which contained dumbbell plates—but not ordinary iron plates, but special alloy tungsten steel with a dark gray metallic luster.

Each piece is over 30 centimeters thick and has a terrifying diameter of over 1 meter, comparable to a small steel coil.

"The weight of a single unit," Tanaka wiped his sweat, "five hundred kilograms."

Dong Yangping picked up a piece and weighed it in his hand.

It felt quite heavy, but it was just right for him.

"Where's the barbell?"

"Here."

Tanaka opened another long, rectangular box.

Inside is a metal rod about two meters long and ten centimeters in diameter.

It could even be described as a metal pillar.

It is entirely black with anti-slip texture on the surface.

"Although it is also a special alloy, due to its length, the maximum recommended load-bearing capacity is 100 tons."

Tanaka explained, "The manufacturer said this is the limit they can make. If it gets any heavier, they'll have to make it even thicker..."

"That's enough, it's thick enough already. We can't carry it any thicker." Dong Yangping nodded in satisfaction.

He picked up the barbell, gripped it with both hands, and swung it around a few times casually.

The sound of something cutting through the air was sharp and piercing.

"Install it."

Over the next hour, workers set up a simple but extremely sturdy training area in a corner of the courtyard.

The floor was covered with five layers of thickened special shock-absorbing pads, and a specially made bracket was installed on the wall to hold the barbell plates.

All the window glass was replaced with bulletproof glass—not bulletproof, but to protect against shockwaves that might be generated during Dong Yangping's training.

At nine o'clock in the morning, everything was ready.

Dong Yangping began real strength training.

He first installed four dumbbell plates—two on each side, for a total weight of two tons.

Squat.

No warm-up set, go straight to the maximum weight.

Dong Yangping hoisted the barbell onto his shoulder, spread his legs shoulder-width apart, and slowly squatted down.

The movements were so precise, it was like a textbook example.

Muscles bulge under the training clothes, every fiber is working hard, and blood vessels meander through the skin like writhing dragons.

"one two three……"

He counted them, twenty times per set.

After completing three sets of squats, he increased the number to six dumbbell plates—three tons.

Then comes the deadlift.

Similarly, start with two tons and gradually increase to four tons.

After completing each set, he would rest for thirty seconds before continuing.

The room echoed with the sound of metal scraping against metal and Dong Yangping's heavy breathing—not from exhaustion, but from the body's instinctive reaction under extreme conditions.