Time passed without me truly noticing, and now the calendar had turned to the year 2000. The number felt strange in my mind—as if I had only just opened my eyes in this world yesterday, still lying there with ragged breaths, still trying to understand why the air felt so unbearably heavy.
This cursed world had never welcomed me with warmth. What greeted me instead was a faint pressure hanging in the atmosphere, like an invisible fog clinging to my skin. The whispers of Cursed Energy rustled between walls and shadows, and danger lingered patiently behind every dark corner, waiting for carelessness.
Yet time had moved forward without waiting for anyone. Years had passed since that first day. Years filled with vigilance, cold calculations, and relentless adaptation.
There had never been a truly relaxed day. Every step had to be considered carefully, every decision weighed with the worst possible outcome already in mind. This world did not forgive recklessness.
Now, I could say with a confidence no longer fragile that I had adapted well to this damned world. I understood the rhythm of its life—an inaudible cadence that could not be heard, only felt.
I knew how Cursed Energy flowed, how it trembled subtly before erupting into a threat. I understood the mindset of the Sorcerers, who were constantly trapped between idealism and responsibility. I also understood how Curse Users moved within the shadows, full of suspicion, always ready to strike if an opportunity revealed itself.
I knew when to appear and when to disappear. When to display my abilities, and when it was enough to remain a nameless figure in the background.
This world might never be kind, but at least it no longer felt foreign. And in a place like this, the absence of unfamiliarity was the most realistic form of comfort one could hope for.
Over the past year, many things had changed significantly. The most noticeable change, of course, was my financial condition.
In the past, I had to calculate every possibility with care. When I first awakened in this world and realized I was an orphan, there was no one I could rely on.
There was no inheritance. No protection. Only myself and unseen threats. That was why I had been extremely cautious about money. Every yen had meaning. Every expense required a clear reason.
Now, the situation was entirely different. I had more than enough resources. No—not merely enough. I had a great deal of money.
Since my contract with Mei Mei had stabilized, I had been receiving more than fifty million yen each month. The money arrived consistently, without interruption, like a river that had finally found its proper course.
At first, I had genuinely been shocked by the numbers. Even with my careful projections, I had not expected the various Cursed Tools I requested to be auctioned to sell so aggressively on the market.
Initially, I had estimated that perhaps only during the first two or three months would the price of my Cursed Tools reach figures exceeding fifty million yen. The logic was simple and rational: the more frequently something was auctioned, the more its rarity would diminish. And when something was no longer rare, its price would usually decline gradually. That was the law of the market.
However, reality moved in the opposite direction.
Once buyers realized that the Cursed Tools could continue to be produced and distributed regularly, demand instead surged dramatically.
They no longer saw the Cursed Tools as rare items that appeared once and vanished, but as strategic equipment that could be relied upon over the long term.
Ironically, certainty of distribution increased market confidence. Sorcerers viewed the Cursed Tools as an investment in survival—something that could save their lives in critical moments.
Curse Users, who lived beneath the constant shadow of betrayal and pursuit, regarded them as tools to increase their chances of survival. In a cruel world, even the smallest increase in odds carried an expensive price.
As a result, instead of decreasing, the prices only grew more expensive with each passing month.
The first Cursed Tool I instructed Mei Mei to auction was the Sand Sensor Compass in February—a detection device shaped like a compass, filled with grains of cursed sand. It was capable of reading fluctuations of Cursed Energy emitted by Cursed Spirits within a certain radius, even when that energy was suppressed or carefully disguised through specialized techniques.
In March, it was the Positive Energy Bottle's turn to be auctioned. A small bottle containing condensed positive energy, its liquid shimmering faintly whenever light touched its surface. The bottle could be used to heal injured limbs, close internal wounds, and even stabilize someone standing at the brink of death—as long as there was still time left to save them.
April introduced the Movement Enhancement Shoes, a pair of footwear that appeared simple on the surface. However, embedded within the soles were controlled Cursed Energy circuits. When worn, the shoes enhanced the contraction of the leg muscles through a steady flow of energy, increasing speed, jumping power, and overall physical endurance without placing excessive strain on the joints.
In May, the Shield Watch was put up for auction. The watch looked elegant—almost ordinary at a glance. Yet beneath its refined exterior lay a programmed energy barrier mechanism designed to activate a fraction of a second before an incoming attack could make contact with the wearer's body.
Then in June, the Knife Sword was introduced. A compact weapon that initially resembled nothing more than a thin, simple kitchen knife. However, when infused with high-frequency Cursed Energy, the layer of energy along its blade condensed and extended, forming a katana-like structure with dramatically heightened sharpness.
After the first cycle was completed, I began rotating the items. For the remainder of the year, I auctioned only Cursed Tools that had already appeared before. There were no major innovations. No striking new types. The pattern remained stable, orderly, predictable—and that predictability was precisely what made it powerful.
If asked why I did not create more complex or stronger variations, the answer was simple: there was no need.
My current objective was not to advance the world of Jujutsu. I held no noble ambition to enrich the arsenal of Sorcerers or empower Curse Users. This world did not require additional heroes. It only required enough balance for me to survive within it.
I created and auctioned Cursed Tools for one reason alone—money. As long as demand remained high and profits continued to flow steadily, there was no reason to take unnecessary risks by developing untested products. Innovation meant experimentation. Experimentation meant potential failure. And failure meant attention I did not want.
With the funds accumulated from those auctions, I took the next and far more important step. I instructed Mei Mei to purchase a house in a quiet area of Akiruno City.
The location was secluded, surrounded by dense trees that muffled outside noise. The narrow road leading to the house was rarely traveled, especially at night when thin mist descended and distant streetlights appeared dim through the haze. The atmosphere was calm—almost too calm—the perfect place for something that should not attract attention.
After all, I would be staying in this city for the next several years. The orphanage where I currently lived was also here. I could not simply hope that everything would always remain safe. This world was too cruel to rely on empty hope. Protection had to be prepared before a threat emerged.
The house was then converted into a base.
From the outside, it remained entirely ordinary—neutral-colored walls, a simple fence, and a small garden maintained just enough to avoid suspicion. There were no symbols, no striking aura. Yet inside, every detail had been carefully prepared.
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