Shoko Ieiri

Time slipped by, second by second. Cold weakness washed over his nerves like a relentless tide. The cursed energy he forcibly circulated grew thinner and thinner, his head grew heavier, and the daylight before his eyes began to overlap, distort, and dim.

Even though his body was far tougher than an ordinary person's, even though he used cursed energy to forcibly cling to life, he could not withstand injuries this severe.

Dizziness closed in from every direction, devouring what little lucidity he had left. Qingxiao's eyelids grew heavier, his thoughts began to scatter, and Satō's frantic reassurances grew distant and indistinct, as though muffled by a thick veil of mist.

Just as his consciousness was about to plunge completely into darkness, a sudden, piercing screech of brakes rang out from outside the tunnel. The sharp sound of tires scraping the ground cut through the deathly silence with exceptional clarity.

Hurried, disorderly footsteps followed, rapidly approaching from afar, filled with haste and urgency.

A slender, brisk figure rushed into the tunnel, cutting through the drifting clouds of dust and heading straight for the pool of blood at the center of the battlefield.

It was Shoko Ieiri.

She had happened to be nearby when she received an emergency message from Jujutsu High informing her that a novice sorcerer was gravely injured and dying in the tunnel. His condition was critical. Without another word, she had the accompanying assistant supervisor speed the entire way, reaching the scene as quickly as possible.

By then, Qingxiao was already dazed, his vision going black. He could not make out the newcomer's appearance at all, only vaguely discern a figure bending down toward him.

A faintly cool presence drew close to his body. A pair of slender yet steady hands quickly pulled aside the blood-soaked fabric of his uniform. Her movements were deft and professional as she precisely examined the hideous, fatal wound across his waist and abdomen, her fingertips carrying the steadiness and assurance unique to a healing sorcerer.

"Looks like my otherworld adventure story isn't over yet..." A faint smile tugged at Qingxiao's lips.

The surrounding panic, the wind, and the distant noises all faded away, leaving only hazy light and shadow in Qingxiao's world.

Clinging to the last trace of his wavering vision, he struggled to raise his eyes. Within that blurred view, only two features imprinted themselves clearly in his mind-neat, short brown hair, and a delicate little beauty mark beneath her eye.

Was this an angel? His consciousness was hazy, leaving only that childish thought in his mind.

There were no other facial details, no other expressions or movements.

In the final second before he sank completely into darkness, that short hair and that beauty mark became the last, the only fragments of memory he retained from this harrowing brush with death.

The heavy darkness slowly receded. The cool scent of disinfectant entered his nose, completely dispelling the bloody, rotten stench of yesterday's tunnel.

Guyue Qingxiao's consciousness slowly returned. His entire body felt weak and sore, and a faint, dull ache lingered in his waist and abdomen, constantly reminding him that the battle in which he had staked his life had not been an illusion.

He struggled to lift his heavy eyelids. What greeted him was the ward's clean, softly lit white ceiling. This peaceful, quiet setting felt like a completely different world from yesterday's desperate situation.

I survived.

"That claw really taught me not to get arrogant or impatient..." The icy threat of facing death still left him shaken. He had thought that ten-minute countdown to death would be the end of his life after transmigration.

"Heaven hasn't abandoned me. I survived after all."

The lingering fear pent up inside him dissipated completely, leaving only overwhelming relief. He had thought that ten-minute countdown to death would be the end of his life after transmigration.

Turning his head, Qingxiao saw Sato Kenta in the bedside chair. His hair was disheveled, his face exhausted, and his eyes densely bloodshot. He had clearly stayed up the entire night, never leaving his side.

Sensing movement, the groggy Satō jolted awake. When he looked up and saw Qingxiao's eyes open, his eyes instantly lit up. Excited yet anxious, he said, "Qingxiao! You're awake?"

Qingxiao gave a quiet hum in his hoarse voice.

Satō let out a long breath, sighing as though he had survived a disaster. "Finally! You've been unconscious for a whole day and night. You never woke up after yesterday's battle. It was only Miss Ieiri's continuous treatment that kept your injuries stable. We were worried sick."

At the name "Ieiri," Qingxiao paused inwardly, a clear flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.

Of course he knew who Shoko Ieiri was. One of Jujutsu High's few healing sorcerers, she possessed the extremely rare ability to output Reverse Cursed Technique and was the unrivaled top medical trump card of the entire Jujutsu Society.

At that moment, he understood completely. No wonder he could be dragged back from death's door despite suffering injuries that should have been fatal.

So it was Reverse Cursed Technique.

Understanding dawned on Qingxiao. He instantly grasped the fundamental reason he had survived, and his gratitude deepened further.

The ward briefly fell silent. While Satō waited for the medical staff, Qingxiao instinctively clenched his fist, wanting to check his condition. But the moment he did, he froze.

His body was still weak from his recent ordeal, and the dull ache in his wound had not faded, but the strength hidden within him far exceeded what he had possessed before the battle.

The physical strength, toughness, and explosive power temporarily gained when he unleashed Black Flash in yesterday's desperate situation had not disappeared as his cursed energy dissipated. They had remained in full.

Qingxiao instantly understood. So that was what training, fighting, and permanent improvement meant. "Looks like this cheat is even bigger than I thought."

An enormous surge of delight welled up inside him. "Besides lying low and building myself up, I have another path now."

Once his emotions settled, Satō spoke, full of guilt, his words rushing out. "Qingxiao, I'm sorry. It was all my fault. I got careless and hoped for the best. I knew there might be danger in the tunnel, but I still took you through that shortcut. I dragged you into a death trap and nearly got you killed."

Breathing lightly, Qingxiao interrupted him. "It wasn't your fault. I agreed to take that route, and fighting was my choice too. Facing cursed spirits is normal for sorcerers. There's no need to assign blame."

He saw things clearly. Although Satō had been negligent, he had desperately sought help throughout the ordeal and stayed by his bedside all night. Besides, no one could have anticipated that situation. There was no need to give him a hard time.

Other people started at Jujutsu High by touring the campus and meeting classmates, easing into things. He had started by risking his life in a death match and landing in a hospital bed, arguably making him Jujutsu High's most unfortunate new student. Fortunately, he had Heavenly Motion to fall back on. Others damaged their bodies by risking their lives; he grew stronger by risking his. He had not lost out on this one.

Seeing how clearheaded and open-minded he was, Satō sighed helplessly.

Ignoring Satō's guilty gaze, he turned his attention to the wound across his waist and abdomen.

The dull ache had not faded. He instinctively raised a hand and gently touched the healed wound. It felt smooth, with only a thin layer of new flesh remaining.

As he felt the wound, Qingxiao's mind suddenly began wandering uncontrollably.

The placement of yesterday's claw strike had been far too nasty. It had sliced horizontally across half his waist and abdomen, terrifyingly close to vital internal organs.

His heart instantly lurched, and an inexplicable panic rose within him. Wait, that was so close to my lower back. Did it hurt my kidneys?

In an instant, that worry drove away half his joy over his breakthrough and increased strength.

Anything else was negotiable. He could endure weakened strength or painful injuries, but weak kidneys were absolutely out of the question.

After transmigrating and being reborn, this was his ultimate bottom line as a man. He could not compromise on it in the slightest!

As his thoughts ran wild, slow, utterly unhurried footsteps sounded outside the ward. They were nothing like the hurried steps of medical staff, sounding instead like someone taking a leisurely stroll.

The door was gently pushed open, and Shoko Ieiri sauntered in.

P.S. Please leave a review of my book. Feel free to suggest anything I could improve, and let me know whether the male lead is likable. For every review, I'll add an extra chapter. I'm begging you, everyone, orz.