I installed a Cursed Tool designed to conceal the building's cursed energy signature, making the structure extremely difficult to detect through any sensing technique. The energy fluctuations around the house were carefully flattened, disguised so that they appeared no different from the natural background of the surrounding environment.
Additional defensive layers were embedded within the walls and the building's foundation. Cursed Energy was compressed directly into the construction materials, reinforcing them until the structure could withstand high-level cursed energy attacks, even the force of an explosion.
If someone attempted to break in by force, they would not find an ordinary house waiting for them, but rather a hidden fortress.
In the basement, a storage room held reserve Cursed Tools arranged neatly on sealed metal racks.
There was also a spacious training room equipped with sound-dampening and vibration-suppression barriers, allowing us to fight at full strength without disturbing nearby residents or attracting the attention of energy sensors.
A medical room had been prepared as well, complete with a supply of positive energy, basic medical equipment, and an air filtration system designed to prevent contamination from cursed energy.
Supplies of dried food, clean water, and backup generators ensured the place could endure isolation for weeks if the situation ever worsened.
That place became the gathering point for me, Shizuka, Rika, and Mei Mei. It was where we trained until sweat soaked our clothes, where quiet discussions continued deep into the night, and where we planned our next moves without worrying about disturbing anyone.
If one day the orphanage were ever placed in danger, I would not hesitate. I could move everyone to that base quickly and safely.
Of course, even though I was no longer supplying new varieties of Cursed Tools to the auctions, that did not mean I had stopped creating them. Money was important, but to me it was only one objective—never the primary one.
For some time now, I had simply chosen not to place my creations beneath the spotlight of the black market and the auction tables filled with greedy eyes.
Behind the scenes, far from the noise of transactions and the whispers of collectors, I continued my experiments.
This world is filled with many unique Innate Techniques, abilities born with their owners and often dying alongside them. For most people, that was perfectly normal—just another manifestation of a human ability that appeared at birth.
But to me, it felt like an incredible waste. Something with such value should not simply disappear the moment its owner died.
My breakthrough experiment actually began with an old incident—my first encounter with a Curse User whom I ultimately killed. At that time, I was saving Shizuka and Rika from an attempted assault by a man who possessed an illusion-type Innate Technique.
The man was not a particularly strong opponent, but his ability was interesting enough. The illusions he created did not merely deceive the eyes; they also subtly distorted the perception of direction and distance. It was not extraordinary, but it was flexible and fairly stable in its application.
After the fight ended and the man's body lay lifeless on the rooftop of the building, I did not leave immediately.
Instead of abandoning the corpse, I summoned my purple flames—my Innate Technique, the core of my power. The flames were not ordinary fire. Their color was a deep violet, pulsing slowly with a strangely calming presence.
At first, I had only intended to burn the body so that it would leave no trace. I assumed the flames would simply devour flesh and bone until nothing remained but ash.
But what happened next was far beyond my expectations.
As the man's body began to burn, I felt something different.
It was not merely heat or the smell of burning flesh, but a strange sensation spreading through the flow of cursed energy around me. There was a subtle resonance within those purple flames—a vibration that carried fragments of knowledge about a certain technique.
It was not memory, nor was it emotion.
It was the trace of that man's Innate Technique.
It was as if the ability had not truly vanished with the man's death, but had instead been drawn in and trapped within the purple flames I possessed. The flame rotated slowly above my palm, stable and calm, as if something was being preserved within its core.
That was when I realized a new possibility.
The man's Innate Technique could apparently be stored inside my purple flames. As long as my own Innate Technique did not disappear, the man's Innate Technique would not truly be lost.
However, there were limitations.
I could not use that Innate Technique directly. It felt like having a file neatly stored somewhere, but not yet executed. The information about the technique was there, complete, yet my body could not simply use it as it was.
Only when I created a Cursed Tool and embedded that Innate Technique into it could the technique be used through that medium.
In other words, the Cursed Tool became the container that executed the "file" of that technique.
The process, of course, was far from simple.
Every Innate Technique had different properties and energy structures. I had to adjust the design of the Cursed Tool so it would be compatible with the technique being inserted. If the structure of the container was unstable, the energy of the technique would damage the Cursed Tool from the inside.
Some early attempts even ended with cracks forming on the tools I created. In one case, the Cursed Tool exploded from the inside before it could even be tested.
But after several attempts—and a few small failures—I finally succeeded.
The first Cursed Tool that contained a "harvested" Innate Technique worked perfectly.
That discovery completely changed the direction of my path.
From that moment on, I began hunting Curse Users systematically. Of course, I did not choose my targets randomly.
I asked Mei Mei to purchase various pieces of information from the underground network—data about Curse Users who frequently committed crimes, had terrible reputations, and most importantly, were known to possess Innate Techniques.
Information like that was not cheap. Some of it was even sold at rather high prices.
But to me, it was worth it.
I had no interest in killing without purpose. What I was looking for were techniques that could be harvested.
Once a target had been determined, I would usually go together with Shizuka and Rika. However, I never allowed them to interfere directly in the fight.
I only instructed them to observe from a safe distance.
Aside from ensuring their safety, there was another reason that mattered more.
I wanted them to clearly see how those battles actually unfolded.
They needed to see Curse Users directly—not merely hear stories or read reports.
They had to witness how Curse Users truly fought, how they used their Innate Techniques in real situations, and how they made decisions under pressure that could determine life or death.
An experience like that could never be obtained through training at headquarters alone.
At the training grounds, everything always had limits. There were rules that could not be broken, there were comrades who never truly intended to kill, and there was always room to correct mistakes. But on a real battlefield, there was no such luxury.
Meanwhile, I was the one who faced the Curse Users directly.
Every encounter with them gave me a much clearer picture of how this world truly worked. Their fighting styles varied greatly.
Some relied on long-range attacks, manipulating their energy into dangerous projectiles from afar. Others preferred to take advantage of their surroundings, turning shadows, the ground, or nearby objects into parts of their techniques.
Some even fought in a far more brutal manner—relying on physical strength and raw instinct without much strategy. They attacked without hesitation, trying to end the battle as quickly as possible before their opponents had the chance to read their patterns.
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