"And?" Mei Mei asked softly, her voice now lower than before, more cautious, as if she were stepping onto thin ice.
"This bottle can only refill healing water five times within a single day," I added. "Once the day changes exactly at midnight, its capacity resets to full. The mechanism is locked to the natural cycle of time. So yes, there's a limit—but it's enough to save lives multiple times in one day."
I gave a small smile. "Well? Isn't that pretty good?"
Mei Mei stared at me, her expression now genuinely stunned.
"You…" Her voice was quieter than usual, almost a whisper that slipped out unintentionally. "…do you even realize what you've just handed me?"
"A bottle that produces healing water?" I replied calmly, my expression unchanged.
"Uh?" Mei Mei slowly shook her head, a few strands of her hair swaying gently in the forest breeze. "There are many powerful fighters in this world. Plenty who can bring down buildings with a single technique. Plenty who can exorcise a high-grade Cursed Spirit on their own."
She paused for a moment.
"But things related to treatment or healing… those are extremely rare." Her tone was no longer light. Each word carried weight now.
Mei Mei tightened her grip on the bottle slightly, as if afraid it might vanish if she relaxed. "Even Jujutsu Sorcerers capable of using Reverse Cursed Technique are very few. Incredibly rare. They're valued not for their offensive power, but for their ability to save lives."
The forest around us felt quieter.
The wind that had been rustling before now sounded clearer in the silence. In the distance, the clash of Shizuka and Rika's fists still echoed—heavy impacts that shook the ground—but they now felt far away, swallowed by distance and the thick trees.
"You didn't just create a healing tool," Mei Mei continued slowly. Her gaze sharpened, piercing straight into me. "You turned Reverse Cursed Technique into a commodity."
The sentence lingered in the air.
Reverse Cursed Technique—a skill possessed only by a handful of individuals, the result of extreme training and rare talent—could now be poured into a simple iron bottle.
I met Mei Mei's gaze without changing my expression.
"And that means," she went on, her voice steady again but clearly holding something beneath it, "if this is auctioned properly… the price won't stop at ninety million. It could soar far higher. Hundreds of millions. It might even trigger a bidding war."
I could easily imagine it happening.
Clan heads. Shadow organizations. Independent sorcerers who wanted an extra guarantee of survival. All of them would want the Cursed Tool I created. Not to show off—but to keep hidden as a final trump card when everything came down to life and death.
I closed the suitcase of money in my hand with a soft click.
"I don't care, as long as they can pay," I answered shortly.
"You idiot!" Mei Mei's voice turned sharp—not merely angry, but carrying a pressure beneath it, like someone holding herself back from truly exploding. "In other words, someone capable of converting Negative Energy or Cursed Energy into Reverse Cursed Technique, then refining it into Positive Energy, is exceedingly rare. Not just uncommon—rare enough to count on one hand. And someone who can use RCT to heal others? That's far more difficult than using it on oneself. That's exactly why this Cursed Tool is so valuable!"
She pronounced each word slowly and clearly, pressing them forward as if engraving their weight into my mind, making sure I didn't treat this conversation as casual chatter. Her eyes locked onto mine—sharp, calculating, and filled with intent.
"Is that so?" I looked at Mei Mei with a calm, almost blank expression. My face did not change in the slightest, as though what she had just said was nothing more than an ordinary fact—something that failed to stir even the faintest ripple within me.
"Is that so? Is that so?!" Mei Mei repeated my words, her voice rising—not out of panic, but irritation. Her brows arched high, and for a fleeting second, the professional mask that was always perfectly fixed upon her face cracked. An emotion she rarely allowed others to see surfaced without warning—genuine annoyance, sharp and unfiltered.
"Do you realize," Mei Mei continued, her voice lowering yet turning far sharper, "that if I sell this—or more precisely, auction it publicly—there will be countless parties desperately trying to uncover the supplier of that Cursed Tool? Major clans, underground organizations, even foreign factions. They won't just target the item itself. They'll target its creator."
The air between us grew heavier, as if the room itself had taken notice of her words. Mei Mei drew in a slow, steady breath, though her chest rose and fell slightly faster than usual. That alone was proof of how serious she truly was.
"I can even say this much," she went on, her gaze unwavering, "if this is auctioned without restrictions, the price could easily reach hundreds of millions. And that's not an exaggeration. That's a realistic number for something capable of saving lives on the battlefield."
"And?" I leaned back lazily in my chair, letting my back rest against it while one leg lifted lightly over the other. My tone remained relaxed, as though we were merely discussing the cost of groceries at a market. "Isn't that exactly what you want? Didn't you once say you wanted to marry me because I could make a lot of money? Now you're hesitating just because you'd have to help sell a Cursed Tool that could earn hundreds of millions?"
I tilted my head slightly, a faint smile curving across my lips. "Well, well… it seems I may have overestimated you, Mei Mei."
My smile widened deliberately, provoking her. It was rare to see Mei Mei lose her composure like this. Usually, she was the one who toyed with tone and expression, unsettling others with that subtle, meaningful smile of hers. Now the roles were reversed. And for some reason, watching her struggle—even just a little—felt… satisfying.
"You!" Mei Mei shot me a sharp glare. Surprise and irritation mingled in her eyes. Her lashes trembled faintly, and her jaw tightened just enough to betray her restraint.
"What?" I returned her stare, feigning ignorance, even offering a small shrug.
"Don't you understand that this could shake the balance of the Jujutsu World?" Mei Mei's voice lowered again. No longer raised, yet far heavier—deeper. "This isn't just a financial transaction. It's about the distribution of power. If one side gains large-scale access to instant healing, they'll have absolute superiority in every conflict."
She stepped closer, her shadow stretching across the table between us.
"Imagine a clan that can fight without fearing the loss of personnel from fatal injuries. Imagine an organization capable of restoring their grade-one sorcerers again and again in a single night. That would redraw the entire power map."
I fell silent for a moment.
"The world is vast," I said quietly at last. "It's impossible for RCT to be the only method of healing. What about holy magic from the Church? Or healing potions brewed by alchemists? This world is far too large to rely on a single system alone, isn't it?"
Yet despite the casual tone of my words, my thoughts were moving far more quickly beneath the surface.
If Mei Mei's reaction was genuine, then healing abilities were far rarer than I had assumed. This wasn't merely a high-level technique—it might be one of the hidden pillars maintaining the balance of the world itself.
In my mind, the Phoenix Tears of the Phenex Clan surfaced—crimson drops shed by a mythical firebird, rumored to heal nearly any wound. If truly effective healing methods could be counted on one hand, then the value of such items—and of anyone who possessed them—existed on an entirely different tier. Not merely expensive. But strategic.
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