"Hahaha… damn it… damn it…" my laughter spilled out on its own—hoarse, broken, almost like the laugh of someone who had finally lost his mind. My voice sounded wrong, unstable, caught somewhere between relief and a thin edge of madness. "I did it…"
The words escaped without any thought behind them.
Not because I was strong. Not because I had become smarter, or suddenly understood everything. Not because I had won in some beautiful, flawless way. But because I had survived my first real fight.
Because I could still sit here, breathe, feel pain, and recognize—clearly—that I was still alive. And at the exact moment that realization settled in, I felt something different stir within me.
It wasn't something that appeared out of nothing. It wasn't a new power falling from the sky, nor a sudden blessing granted without cause.
It was something that had been there from the very beginning—locked away tight. Buried deep inside me, sealed beneath layer after layer of fear, ignorance, and the limits I had carried all this time.
The overwhelming pressure of Cursed Energy, the pure, unfiltered terror, and the state of hovering on the brink of death… all of it felt like it had forced open an old, rusted door. I jolted, my breath catching for a moment, my heart pounding faster—not from danger, but from recognition.
So this is what it feels like…
My Innate Technique wasn't born because I managed to create it. Not because I was clever enough to define or design it. I had simply… finally touched it. Become aware of its existence, like brushing the surface of water I had always believed was never there.
Before the time limit of that Binding Vow ran out—before the flow of Cursed Energy in my body was completely sealed off—I had to make sure this wasn't just an illusion born from exhaustion or fleeting euphoria.
I focused my mind. Not forcefully. Not aggressively. I let the remaining Cursed Energy still flowing inside me move in accordance with the instinct that had just awakened. I didn't push it. I didn't restrain it. I simply opened space, allowing it to find its own path.
And then—
A flame, violet in color, appeared before me.
It wasn't large. It wasn't intimidating. If anything, it looked fragile. Its flame trembled softly, its edges wavering unevenly, as though it struggled to maintain its own shape.
The purple hue was deep and dense, yet not blinding. The fire didn't feel gentle in the slightest. There was something heavy within it—something that made my skin prickle even though its heat didn't burn.
The flame pulsed slowly, rising and falling in a faint rhythm, as if adjusting itself to my presence. Like a living creature taking its first breath, hesitant, wary, yet undeniably there.
As I stared at it, my chest tightened with a strange emotion—a collision of wild exhilaration, deep fear, and a conviction I couldn't properly put into words. Those feelings crashed into one another, making my head feel slightly light, yet I couldn't tear my gaze away.
So this is it…
My Innate Technique.
In a very short span of time, a rough understanding surfaced in my mind. It wasn't complete. It wasn't detailed. There were no long explanations or neatly arranged theories attached to it. But it was clear enough to grasp, like a raw intuition carved directly into me.
This purple flame could forge, create, and reconstruct all kinds of objects—both ordinary items and cursed ones—transforming them into something with an entirely different function. Not merely destroying or burning them away, but reshaping them, giving new meaning to whatever it touched.
That was all I understood for now.
It wasn't fully mature. Not fully perfected. Not even fully stable. There were too many blurred areas, too many possibilities I still couldn't reach. This was still far from ideal. But there was one thing that couldn't be denied.
This was real.
The flame vanished suddenly, extinguished without a sound, as if it had been pulled back into me. And in that same instant, a strange weakness washed over my entire body. It came abruptly and violently, like a switch being forcibly turned off. The flow of Cursed Energy within me was completely sealed. No residue. No gaps.
The effect of the Binding Vow had begun to take hold in full.
"Ugh…" The sound slipped out of my throat without my realizing it. My body felt far worse now, as if all the pain that had been forcibly held back by Cursed Energy had finally been released at once. My joints felt heavy, my head throbbed, and even the smallest movement felt like a punishment inflicted directly on my nerves.
The day was already drifting toward late afternoon. Sunlight pierced through the gaps between the trees at a low angle, casting a soft golden sheen across the ground and the scattered stones around me. Shadows stretched long and thin, and the air carried a faint chill, a quiet sign that time had passed far more quickly than I had noticed.
From morning, to noon, and now approaching dusk—too many things had happened in a single day.
Far too many for a body that was not yet fully prepared to face this world.
And yet, for some reason… I felt incredibly happy.
I drew in a long breath, slower this time, letting the air seep into my lungs bit by bit, even though it still stung. Then I shifted slightly and leaned back against the large rock behind me, feeling the cold surface press against my back. That chill was calming, like a marker assuring me that I truly existed here—that this was not a dream.
For now… I should rest for a moment.
After that, I had to go home. Back to the orphanage. Back to a place that was simple, but real. A place where, starting today, I knew—I was no longer the same child I had been that morning.
...
...
...
My name is Mei Mei. I am currently nine years old. An age that, for most people, should be spent playing in the yard, learning how to count on one's fingers, or sleeping soundly while hugging a doll—filled with dreams that are simple, shallow, warm, and safe.
But for me, the number nine has never meant innocence. It has never meant safety. From the moment I was capable of remembering anything at all, my life had already been set on a path different from that of other children.
I was born into a family of Jujutsu Sorcerers. From the time my awareness began to take shape, the world I faced was already saturated with curses, rituals, and death—things that ordinary school textbooks would never dare to touch.
No elementary school teacher officially teaches how to read the traces of Cursed Energy. There is no curriculum that explains how to confront beings born from humanity's own hatred.
None of that is ever taught in the sense of sitting neatly at a desk and listening to a lesson.
I learned it in other ways—through silent observation, nameless training, and direct experience. My parents rarely explained things in words; they simply showed me. And this world itself never offered a choice other than to learn… or to die.
Since childhood, I have been accustomed to the sight of blood that was never fully cleaned, dried onto the floor or clinging to the corners of adults' clothing. I know by heart the stench of Cursed Spirits lingering in the air, a sticky mixture of something rotting and the human emotions decaying alongside it.
I am also used to seeing the faces of adults who smile warmly during the day, only to turn cold and sharp when night falls, when they hunt monsters as if it were nothing more than a mundane routine.
The world was never black and white to me. It has always been stained, and I learned early on how to stand without slipping among those stains. And from all those lessons, there was one truth that sank the deepest: money is everything.
Money is not merely a medium of exchange. Money is the most honest language in this world. A language that does not care about morality, does not care about good intentions, and never lies.
As long as you pay the right amount, everything moves according to your will. People will listen. Doors will open. Problems will be removed, whether gently or violently.
With money, I can buy anything. Information meant to be kept secret. Protection from parties that are supposed to remain neutral. Comfort, safety, and temporary peace of mind.
Even other people's lives, if the situation demands it. I see no need to avert my eyes from that reality. This world does not operate on compassion.
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