“To be honest, I should thank you.”
Ogi Zenin’s pupils shrank violently.
“That strike just now cleared my head quite a bit,” Arata Hoshino said slowly.
The blood ropes tightened according to his will, forcing a muffled groan from Ogi.
“The principle of Reverse Cursed Technique is to multiply cursed energy to generate positive energy.
This positive energy can create blood, bone, muscle, and organs, achieving physical regeneration.”
Ogi’s brow furrowed.
He didn’t understand what this youth was talking about, but the sense of unease in his heart grew stronger.
“I always thought my total cursed energy was pitifully low.
But since the Goodwill Event, my teacher Satoru Gojo told me that my total cursed energy is actually higher than Yuta’s,” Arata continued, his tone like a student answering a question in class.
“As a sorcerer, my cursed energy reserves are up to par.
But as a human, the total volume of blood in my body has a limit.
This led me to a misunderstanding…”
As he spoke, Arata paused and reached up to pull aside his sliced clothing, revealing the area to the crowd.
The shocking wound from moments ago was already slowly healing under the influence of Reverse Cursed Technique.
“So, every time I went on a mission, I had to carry spare blood bags,” Arata said as the wound vanished completely.
“But today, thanks to you…”
He looked up at Ogi and smiled.
To Ogi, that smile was even more piercing than the flash of the blade earlier.
“That strike made me realize that while I can’t directly convert cursed energy into blood, I can use Reverse Cursed Technique to *manufacture* blood, achieving a nearly infinite supply.” Arata rolled his shoulders, his joints letting out a crisp pop.
“This way, when I use Blood Manipulation, I don’t have to worry about running out of blood or dying from blood loss.”
Ogi’s pupils dilated.
He instinctively tried to retreat, but his body was firmly locked by the Crimson Binding.
In the next second, a massive force smashed into his abdomen.
His body was sent flying like a stray dog kicked by the roadside.
After crashing through the wooden doors of the banquet hall and snapping two pillars in the corridor, Ogi’s body slammed heavily onto the gravel in the center of the courtyard, kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Cough…
cough cough…”
Ogi struggled to crawl out of the rubble.
His kimono was covered in dust and blood, and his hair was disheveled over his shoulders.
There wasn’t a trace left of his previous dignified aura.
He looked up toward the banquet hall.
Arata was stepping leisurely through the shattered doorframe.
Though his light-colored clothes were still stained with a large amount of blood, he looked excessively spirited.
“You don’t seem very convinced,” Arata said, using Construction to create a katana which he pointed at Ogi.
“How about we have a proper, fair fight?”
“You!”
“Enough.”
Naobito Zenin walked out slowly, holding his sake gourd.
His gaze swept over Arata, then landed on the pathetic Ogi, before he looked away and took a swig of wine.
“Ogi, go back and clean yourself up.”
Ogi opened his mouth to say something, but meeting Naobito’s sharp eyes, he eventually swallowed his words.
He struggled to his feet and staggered toward the depths of the estate.
Ogi’s back stiffened visibly, but he didn’t look back, quickening his pace until he disappeared at the end of the corridor.
“You certainly know how to cause a stir, kid,” Naobito said, walking up to Arata.
His tone was hard to read–neither praise nor condemnation.
“Not at all.” Arata scratched his head, looking a bit embarrassed.
“You saw it yourself; he struck first.”
“Fine, fine, stop the nonsense.” Naobito waved a hand.
His gaze circled Arata’s face before he suddenly lowered his voice.
“Kid, how much of what you said just now was true?”
“What part?”
“The part where you said we won the first bet, but will lose the second.” Naobito took another heavy swig of sake.
Arata looked at the white-haired old man and suddenly realized that Naobito Zenin sat firmly as the Head of the Clan not just because of his technique and strength, but because of a keen intuition far beyond that of a normal person.
“I’ll just ask you one thing: who do you think Maki resembles?” Arata’s voice was much more serious than before.
Naobito paused mid-motion.
“She was born with no cursed energy and no technique.
The only reason she hasn’t fully become like Toji is because of the curse of twins–that curse causes Maki to retain a tiny amount of cursed energy,” Arata continued, his tone becoming increasingly calm.
“Tell me, given the environment of the Zenin clan and your brother’s personality…
if Mai were to die, would she take that last bit of cursed energy away with her?”
“If Maki awakens…
will she slaughter every single one of you?”
Naobito didn’t speak.
He just looked at Arata with a complex expression in his eyes.
“I don’t care what becomes of the Zenin clan in the future; that’s your business.” Arata turned around to look at Maki, who was standing a short distance away watching silently.
His voice softened.
“I only care about her.”
Naobito followed his gaze.
His eyes lingered on Maki for a moment before returning to Arata.
“You really like her, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Arata nodded without a hint of hesitation.
Naobito stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly erupted into laughter again.
Arata was a bit confused by the sudden outburst, but once the old man finished, he patted Arata on the shoulder.
“Alright, I understand.” Naobito tucked away his smile, his voice regaining the dignity of a Clan Head.
“I’ll handle the situation regarding that girl.”
Arata blinked.
“You mean…”
“Aren’t you worried about her sister?” Naobito raised an eyebrow.
“Relax.
As long as I am in this position, nothing will happen to Mai.”
Arata froze for a moment, then smiled.
“Thanks, old man.”
“Spare me the pleasantries.” Naobito waved him off and turned to walk back.
Arata watched Naobito’s back disappear into the corridor before turning around.
Maki had approached him at some point.
The moonlight cast a faint silver glow over her.
“What are you looking at?” Arata walked over, trying to maintain his usual casual tone.
“Let’s go.
It’s time to head back to school.”
The moonlight turned the bluestone paths of the Zenin estate white.
Arata and Maki walked side-by-side through the corridors, their footsteps exceptionally clear in the silent night.
After the farce that had just unfolded, every Zenin member they passed kept their heads down and hurried away, not daring to even steal a glance at them.
As they walked out of the main gates, Arata glanced back at the plaque reading “Zenin” and suddenly laughed.
“What’s funny?” Maki asked.
“Nothing.” Arata withdrew his gaze.
“Just thinking…
this place doesn’t seem so scary after all.”
Maki didn’t say anything.
She just followed his gaze to the plaque, her eyes filled with a complicated emotion.
After walking for a while, Maki suddenly spoke.
“The things you said to the Clan Head…”
“Hmm?” Arata tilted his head to look at her.
“Were you serious?” Maki paused, her voice lower than usual.
Arata was taken aback, then smiled.
“Of course I was serious.
Did you think I was just talking drunken nonsense?”
“You *were* drunk.”
“That was only at the start.” Arata rubbed his nose, feeling a bit guilty.
“Getting stabbed woke me up.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do all this?” Maki stopped and turned to face him.
“Speaking up for Mai, standing up for me, saying those things to the Clan Head…
You have nothing to do with the Zenin family.
You didn’t need to get involved in this mess.”
“Who says I have nothing to do with it?” Arata turned to face her.
Maki’s brow twitched slightly.
Arata took a step forward.
At that exact moment, Maki suddenly reached out and grabbed him by the collar.
“Wait?” Arata was pulled forward, his face almost crashing into hers.
[Previous Quests Failed!
Bonus Chapter Unrewarded.]
Let’s try again this week!
[Total Bonus Chapters Achieved: 0]
[Ptreon.cm/Prince_of_LanLi for 50 adv chs.
20% discount right now.
Throw spirit stones to this humble one *dogeza*.]