It was a place known as a colorful city, with strong agriculture and forestry, and culture and arts that were just as impressive. It was the kind of place worth visiting even without a mission attached. Since the trip was at Satoru Gojo’s request, Akira’s group did not need to worry about travel or lodging.

  As the head of the Gojo Clan, Satoru Gojo controlled resources that rivaled the old financial groups of Japan. The clothes he wore and the things he used were all custom made from big brands, and his cars were all luxury models. As soon as Akira nodded, Satoru Gojo called over a black luxury sedan and told them not to bother packing, since they could always buy what they needed later.

  The driver was a short and thin adult man who fit the typical image of a Japanese office worker, Kiyotaka Ijichi. His position was Tokyo Jujutsu High Assistant Supervisor, assisting Jujutsu Sorcerer with odd jobs like driving, setting up barriers, guiding evacuations, and gathering information. According to Satoru Gojo, he was an unlucky guy stuck between his superiors and the sorcerers, taking complaints from both sides.

  In reality, the only person who really gave him trouble was the bad tempered Satoru Gojo himself. Akira and the others treated this working man with respect, greeting him politely every time they met and sometimes taking jabs at Satoru Gojo to help him vent. Kiyotaka Ijichi had a very good impression of Akira, and if not for the age gap, he would have liked to invite him out for drinks after work.

  In less than three hours, the group arrived at Saitama City in Saitama Prefecture. After entering the city, Satoru Gojo did not head for the Fushiguro home, but instead went first to a private hospital. The first person they met was not Megumi Fushiguro, but a young woman who gave off a delinquent air.

  Her looks and figure were clearly on the Tokyo Jujutsu High level, fitting right in by association, but a closer look told a different story. She had dark circles under her eyes as heavy as a Pancham, hidden under thick smoky makeup. There was a faint smell of alcohol on her, and the marks between her right index finger and thumb showed years of smoking.

  The moment he saw her, Satoru Gojo stepped forward and asked, “How is it?”

  “Bad,” she replied. “We know it is a curse, but my Reverse Cursed Technique won’t work. What I can do is no different from an ordinary doctor.”

  She shook her head and instinctively reached into her pocket, then pulled her hand back when she found nothing and flicked it aside in frustration. Her gaze shifted to Akira and Maki Zenin behind Satoru Gojo.

  “These are the new first years this year?”

  “Yes,” Satoru Gojo said, taking the chance to introduce them. “Akira and Maki Zenin, you have already read their files, so I won’t repeat them. This is Shoko Ieiri, the school doctor at Tokyo Jujutsu High. If you get hurt in battle, come find her. As long as you are not dead, she can bring you back.”

  “Don’t say it so absolutely,” Shoko Ieiri said lazily. “Didn’t this time prove I couldn’t save her? Take better care of yourselves. I am just a doctor.”

  “Yes, Miss Ieiri,” Akira replied, nodding respectfully.

  Although Shoko Ieiri drank and smoked, though she had actually quit smoking, she was a good woman at heart. She was known as the treasure of Tokyo Jujutsu High, with an importance that could rival Satoru Gojo himself. Akira could feel that reputation was not exaggerated.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “If possible, could you tell me what happened?” Akira asked.

  “It is Megumi’s older sister, Tsumiki Fushiguro. She was cursed a day ago,” Satoru Gojo said at last. “Where is Megumi?”

  “He went out,” Shoko Ieiri answered. “He said he was going to look for a way to lift the curse.”

  Satoru Gojo did not say things like how one unbeatable man and one priceless doctor could not solve it, so what could a child do. He stayed silent for a moment, then said, “Let him vent a bit. I will take you to the hotel first, and we can talk after he comes back.”

  “Could you let me see Miss Tsumiki Fushiguro?” Akira asked, lifting his head.

  Shoko Ieiri stopped in her tracks. “You have studied curses?”

  “A little,” Akira replied. “My partner and I are somewhat special. We might be able to try.”

  Shoko Ieiri gave a short sound of acknowledgment, while Satoru Gojo looked carefully through his blindfold at Akira and the inseparable Gardevoir. After a long moment, he nodded.

  “I am counting on you.”

  He led them to the VIP ward on the top floor of the hospital. The room was decorated simply and elegantly, with all kinds of equipment present, but those could only maintain the patient’s vital signs and could not solve her problem. The girl on the bed had long hair spread out and delicate features, and even in a coma, she gave off a gentle and steady presence.

  She was the second woman who made Akira think of Yamato Nadeshiko. It was no wonder she could keep a troublesome kid like Megumi Fushiguro in check. On her forehead was a strange red marking that started at the center between her brows and covered half her forehead, faintly emitting Cursed Energy.

  There was no doubt that it was the source of the curse. Akira reached out and placed his hand on Tsumiki Fushiguro’s forehead, releasing a small amount of Cursed Energy. It was immediately pushed back by the Cursed Energy within the mark.

  Rubbing his fingers together, he carefully sensed the residue at his fingertips. “Such high precision,” Akira concluded. “I have only seen this level of fine control on Teacher Gojo.”

  “Special Grade level?” Maki Zenin asked in surprise.

  Shoko Ieiri and Satoru Gojo showed no reaction, clearly having already realized it. If it were only the technique itself, Gojo should have been able to handle it, but that was not the real issue.

  “The problem is her body,” Shoko Ieiri said. “Tsumiki Fushiguro is not a sorcerer. Her body, especially her brain, does not have that much tolerance for Cursed Energy. Forcing the curse away could cause irreversible damage.”

  The two adults spoke back and forth, explaining the situation as briefly and plainly as possible. Under normal circumstances, their conclusion would have been final, and bringing Akira here was more like trying a last resort. They had little expectation of a miracle.

  “That matches my thoughts,” Akira said, withdrawing his hand. “It is not that the curse cannot be lifted. The margin for error is just too small. If we could fully analyze the other party’s technique and deal with it precisely, then in theory, the curse could be removed. Is that correct?”

  “That is right, but theory is still just theory,” Shoko Ieiri said, then seemed to realize something. “Unless you mean…”

  Akira held Gardevoir’s hand. “Can you do it? It might feel a bit uncomfortable.”

  “Sha sha.”

  The first sound was a firm answer to her master. The second carried her own opinion, since Tsumiki Fushiguro was a good person, like Akemi Aki, and Gardevoir had a favorable impression of her.

  Akira felt even more glad to be part of a simple and straightforward group. He gave the order, “Gardevoir, use Synchronize.”

  In Pokémon games, Synchronize was not an active skill but a passive trait that spread abnormal status to the opponent. In reality, the trait had changed, allowing control over whether to share or not, based on Gardevoir’s own judgment of friend or foe. It could even be used in reverse, syncing someone else’s abnormal state onto herself.

  In Akira’s understanding, it was like a chain of negative effects. You can give it to me, so I can give it to you, but no one would seek suffering without a reason. Gardevoir planned to use this trait to share the negative state affecting Tsumiki Fushiguro, the curse itself, so it could be analyzed and later removed.

  There was no need to worry about Gardevoir’s safety. She was far stronger than Tsumiki, and Akira had a clear idea of the curse’s effects. If the risk were any higher, he would never have allowed her to try.