“Discippwe-channn still don’t kno? Sabbuu got sooo many tings to teww yoo.”
“Huwuuu...”
“Hand.”
Guru grabbed the big hand held out in front of her.
'Um?'
Beyond the tattooed joints, a red chain-like pattern briefly appeared—then vanished.
'I def’nitwy saw dat.'
But before she could ask, Kazuki took a step, and the doubt evaporated.
“Discippwe-channn, wet’s have a wace. If ya win, I’ww give ya dis. It’s one of Sabbuu’s twesas.”
From among the many trinkets Kazuki had stacked on his fingers, he waved a plain-looking metal ring.
'What’s dat?'
As Guru gawked with her mouth open, Kazuki explained.
“Sabbuu’s fiwst S-Wank item. Doubwe pwoficiency buff. Continuous effect.”
If it’s continuous, that means the buff never ends—an insane item!
“Awright, Sabbuu goes fiwst!”
“Ah!”
No way! Can’t wose!
“ESUUUUU—!”
Guru shouted loudly and flung her arms open, sprinting forward dodododo! like a squirrel.
Behind her, Kazuki let out the breath he’d been holding.
“Huuuu...!”
Sharp exhales followed. He was desperately swallowing down the pain.
It was the kind of agony like being bound by chains heated red-hot.
Amakusa Kazuki was dying, cursed by the karma of his father.
The debuff ‘paternal karma’—known as paternal curse.
Those afflicted are shackled by bloodstained chains equivalent to the sins of their paternal line.
It strangles the heart, eventually leading to death.
Red chain patterns emerged over his densely tattooed skin, rising up like ivy.
The karma, grown wild like vines, couldn’t even be concealed by the growing tattoos.
He’d been cursed not long after creating the first-generation [Amakusa Series].
[“It’s called paternal karma. A type of curse.”]
It was during the time when he’d been writhing in inexplicable pain.
Hearing that it was a curse from Prime Minister Takahashi, Kazuki had let out a dry laugh.
Somehow, it all felt inevitable.
His father had murdered their family in cold blood.
And somewhere, he was likely still killing more people.
As long as someone requested it, he would kill strangers without hesitation. That was his father’s “profession.”
Kazuki didn’t think it strange that someone might lay a curse like this.
Even before he was cursed, he’d always felt weighed down by the burden of his father’s sins.
That’s why he tried so hard to live righteously.
One day, he joined Doctors Without Borders and remodeled a supply truck into an amphibious tank-like off-roader.
Another day, he built a well that drew water from 500 km away for a refugee village.
And the next week, he constructed an orphanage and school that wouldn’t collapse even if struck by missiles in a war zone.
[“It can’t be completely cured, but it can be delayed. You just have to meet with the person I send now and then.”]
Even when he tried to live like a drifting weed, he’d eventually be yanked back by the collar.
Frankly, if he hadn’t awakened as an S-Rank Crafter, he probably wouldn’t have survived.
Takahashi, as Japan’s Prime Minister, couldn’t afford to lose an S-Rank Crafter—so he had desperately found a workaround.
Every three or four months, Kazuki met with an onmyoji sent by Takahashi, barely eking out another three months of life. And every time, without fail, Takahashi would ask:
[“When can we expect the next Amakusa Series?”]
Despite being more repulsed by violence than anyone, Amakusa Kazuki had to become a potter—for Japan? No, for Prime Minister Takahashi.
Maybe it was because he’d grown up in a stifling orphanage, but Kazuki had always loved travel and freedom.
He even went to Kenya looking for a proper exorcist, but got nowhere.
Some days, he just lived. Other days, he was bound to Takahashi, forced to craft weapons.
And the pain caused by his father’s karma... all of it disgusted him. He was exhausted.
That’s why he’d come to Korea.
Now, he had barely a week left.
Two choices remained.
Kill his father and live free—
Or chase freedom and die.
Kazuki stepped through the paper sliding doors, seeing the room was already dark.
The child was curled up like a shrimp, sleeping soundly.
He sat at her bedside, lifted her hand, and slid a ring onto her middle finger. The loose ring instantly shrank to fit her tiny, slender finger.
He gently brushed the little sprout on her crown and smiled.
This place was rich with mana—ideal for monsters to grow.
'Still, planting a sprout-type monster right on the crown of her head...'
A small laugh escaped through his nose.
Everything this child did was strange... and unbearably cute.
Kazuki gave her forehead a gentle kiss and quietly stepped out.
At the door, the monk was waiting.
He whispered,
“Let’s talk over there.”
Moonlight bathed the front of the wooden porch.
Monk Hyeongak, who had been holding Kazuki’s wrist for a long time like checking a pulse, finally opened his mouth.
“You’ve come a long way, so I’m sorry to say this... but this curse is beyond even me.”
As an A-Rank Support-type Awakened, Monk Hyeongak had examined Kazuki’s debuff, and spoke gravely.
“...I can delay it.”
Kazuki shook his head.
“I’ve lived like that long enough. I’m done.”
“I don’t know if this will comfort you, but in Buddhism, the end is not the end. Life continues into another.”
The monk drew a circle in the air with his hand.
Kazuki, who knew a bit about the idea of reincarnation, flashed a big grin with sharp canines.
“Thanks for the comfowtin’ wowds, Monk-sang.”
After gazing up at the moon a moment, he glanced back toward the room where Guru was asleep.
Monk Hyeongak, noticing his gaze, softly added,
“Even if one knows it’s not the end, lingering attachments are hard to let go. No matter how much one trains. Emptying is always hard. And yet, filling up... it happens so fast.”
“Mmh.”
Kazuki let out a hollow breath, eyebrows drooping into a messy arch.
“Yeah. Came to empty, ended up fillin’.”
“Gatekeeper Bodhisattva, in deep prajna-paramita, sees that all aggregates are empty and transcends all suffering and hardship.”
“Dunno what dat means, Monk-sang. I weawned wots of Korean, but it’s still hawd.”
“Even so, Avalokiteśvara will watch over your suffering in this saha world.”
He still didn’t really get it—then suddenly, Kazuki stood upright and tilted his head to the sky.
When Monk Hyeongak followed his gaze—
Something had already stopped midair above the temple’s main hall and was beginning to descend.
Guru woke up groggily.
She couldn’t fall back asleep because something felt itchy at the top of her head.
“Stiww sweepyyy...”
Haaaaaaawm!
She dismissed the faintly hovering status window in front of her eyes with a swipe and let out a big yawn—
Her head felt... heavy.
Not like that ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) sluggish feeling after waking up
More like... there was really something on top of her head.
“...Huwuuung?”
She tilted her head to one side.
Guru crawled clumsily over to the vanity and looked in the mirror.
“GASP!”
Mephisto, hearing her voice, rubbed his eyes and fluttered over with a fwoosh, while Veilach squirmed out of her bag, yawning as he approached...
“Mephii... sniff! Bayii...”
But Guru turned to face them with her face smeared in tears and snot.
“Biiit!”
“Meewt!”
Startled, Mephisto and Veilach hurried to pat her and soothe her.
“Wh-what Gwuu gonna dooo?!”
She was shaking all over, trembling so hard her shoulders quivered.
Sniff!
Lately, people kept saying her sprout looked fresh, or “so green,” and she’d started getting suspicious.
Guru buried her face in her hands.
From the little sprout atop her crown, a stalk had grown.
And at the tip of that stalk...
A bud had bloomed.
It had grown.
No matter how many times she checked, it was undeniably growing. And there was even a bud on top of it now.
From the top of her head!
Wasn’t the sprout supposed to detach once she got strong again and return to a snow bunny?
What if it never came off and just kept growing from her head forever?
Guru really felt like the world was spinning and began to shout nonsense.
“Gwuu tuwned into a twee! Gwuu’s weawwy became GWUUT!”

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