— — — — — —
"What... what the hell is this?"
Sumire stared at the transparent vial in front of her. Inside, a red liquid shimmered, bright and thick like blood.
But her sharp eyes immediately saw it wasn't blood—it was some kind of medicine.
"This? Oh, it's that so-called cure you were talking about. You really can't tell?" Kazuma tilted the vial back and forth, watching the red liquid catch the light.
"'Cure'? Are you kidding me?"
Sumire's tone dripped with sarcasm. "Not funny. I literally just told you—it's a fantasy. A made-up project that never got off the ground."
"We didn't even have a starting point, let alone a prototype."
She gave a short, mocking laugh. This kind of nonsense might fool a layman, but not her. The "cure" was nothing but a line in a research note—never tried, never developed.
And this man behind her... he seriously thought a cheap trick like that would impress her? How childish. If he really wanted to break her composure, he might as well go straight to torture—it'd be less embarrassing for both of them.
"Who's joking?" Kazuma shrugged. "Anyway, I don't feel like explaining it. You've got a device here that measures infection rate, right?"
"Where is it? I'll borrow it." Kazuma trusted his own Treasury completely, but he still wanted to confirm its effects in this world.
"It's in the drawer over there," Sumire said dryly. "Pretty simple to use. Just draw a little blood and it'll give you a reading. Though it's not perfectly accurate—if you want real precision, you'd need a full-body scan."
She didn't believe a word he'd said, of course. But she was curious to see how long he'd keep up this ridiculous act.
"Found it." Kazuma pulled out a sleek little machine that looked like a futuristic thermometer. "Alright, who wants to go first?"
"I, I, I'll do it!"
Enju immediately raised her hand, stepping forward without hesitation. She pricked her finger and let a single drop of blood fall onto the reader.
"Beep beep... scanning... beep beep... scan complete."
The number popped up: [32%]
That was already dangerously high—once the infection rate hit 50%, they turned into full-fledged Gastrea. Thirty-two wasn't far off.
"Alright, let's try this and see if it works."
Kazuma picked up the vial, filling a syringe with the red liquid.
"Eh? Can I not get a shot? I don't like needles. Can't I just drink it?"
Enju looked uneasy, pouting like a kid about to get vaccinated.
Kazuma thought for a moment, then nodded. "Sure. Lemme see what I've got..."
He rummaged through his Treasury, and—sure enough—pulled out a version in a small bottle. "Here we go. An oral dose. Oh, and it comes in different flavors."
He looked back at Enju. "What do you want? Milk? Orange? ...Bitter melon?"
Even he had to pause at that last one. Who in their right mind made a bitter melon flavor?
Sumire nearly rolled her eyes out of her head. Unbelievable.
"Oral version, multiple flavors? What's next, you're gonna say you turned it into bubble gum?" she said under her breath, lips curling into a smirk. "This is research, not snack food production. Do you even hear yourself?"
"Then I want the milk flavor!" Enju piped up, totally unfazed.
"Here you go."
She took it without hesitation, because in her eyes, Kazuma could do anything.
She tilted her head back and gulped it down. "Hic—huh? Why's it a little sour, Guild Master? Did it spoil?"
"Sour?" Kazuma blinked, took the bottle, and checked the label. "Oh—oops. Wrong one. That's yogurt, not milk."
"But it's fine. Still dairy. Let's test again."
"Okay!" Enju pricked her finger once more and let another drop fall.
"Beep beep... scan complete."
The result flashed: [12%]
"Down from thirty-two? That's... only twenty percent lower. Huh." Kazuma frowned. "I was hoping for a full cure."
He scratched his head. "Let's try two more."
He handed her two additional bottles, and Enju obediently chugged them.
The device blinked again: [1%]
But no matter how much more she drank, it wouldn't go below that.
"It's stuck at one percent? So it can't completely cure it after all?" Kazuma murmured, deep in thought.
Sumire finally sighed and couldn't hold back anymore. "Mr. Kazuma, could you please stop the performance? I really can't take it."
"Do you even know what one percent means?" she asked, rubbing her temples. "A normal human infected with Gastrea virus would turn instantly—no chance of survival."
"Cursed Children only survive because they're born with antibodies that slow down the infection. If their rate stays under fifty percent, they won't mutate. But the higher it gets, the faster it accelerates."
Her voice steadied as she slipped into scientist mode—calm, clinical, precise. "When they're born, they already carry about ten percent infection. Even with that, the rate still rises about 0.008 percent per day."
"Once they hit twenty percent, it grows faster—around 0.012 to 0.015 percent daily. At thirty to forty percent, that doubles to roughly 0.02."
"Injecting a suppressant can slow it by half, maybe down to 0.01 per day. But the harsh truth?"
She paused, then said quietly, "Even if you save these children now—even if you give them unlimited suppressants—they'll only live about five years."
"If they're reinfected, or their infection spikes again, they'll die even sooner."
Her tone softened, but the words were heavy enough to crush hope. "What you're doing... doesn't change their fate. You can't save them."
Kazuma didn't look upset. In fact, he smiled.
"Doctor," he said, "you know what I've noticed? The smarter someone is, the more they drown in despair. You're just like Kayo—you talk about what's impossible, about the meaning of life."
"But me? I don't think about that stuff. I just figure out what I want, and then I go get it."
He turned his gaze toward the children, his tone oddly calm. "I've always believed one thing—if you're alive, you have desire. If you don't... you're already dead."
"Anyway, thanks for answering my questions. We've got what we came for. Goodbye, doctor."
He tossed the infection-rate monitor toward her. "Oh, right. The information in your head? Consider it something I bought. Here—" he flipped a coin at her. "That's your payment. If you ever need to hire us, just use it as your commission fee."
He waved the kids toward the door, ready to leave.
Sumire snorted under her breath. "Still pretending, huh? Even now you're acting smug. The infection data has been verified countless times—it's a scientific fact."
"A Gastrea cure? Please. If something like that existed, the apocalypse would've ended ages ago."
Still, curiosity got the better of her. She glanced at the monitor's record—and froze.
"Thirty-two percent… then twelve… then one—"
Her eyes widened. "He—he wasn't lying?"
Sumire checked the machine again and again, making sure it hadn't been tampered with. The data was clean.
"This… no, wait. Kazuma-Sama! Don't go! Please, let me see it again! Just one more look!"
She shot to her feet, but her body, wrecked by sleepless nights, gave out. She collapsed onto the floor with a dull thud, but even then she didn't stop—she crawled toward him like a desperate animal.
"Uh, miss," Kayano said coolly, pulling a gun and aiming it at her, "you'd better stop. Get too close and we'll consider it an attack. And we will shoot."
The other girls raised their weapons too, eyes sharp.
Sumire froze, then held up her trembling hands. "I told you already—I'm not a fighter! I just want to see that serum again, that's all! Please! Let me study it—just a little! You can also let me examine the girl who drank it!"
For once, her arrogance was gone. The ever-cynical genius doctor sounded like someone begging for air.
She knew what her own device was capable of. If those readings were real, it could only mean one thing—the impossible had been made real.
If that serum truly existed... maybe the world had a chance.
Kazuma sighed. "Put the guns down. She's harmless. I could crush her with one finger."
Then he looked down at her and said flatly, "Doctor, what do you take me for, a magic wish machine? I already gave you a coin. Don't push your luck."
"Please!" Sumire clasped her hands together. "Let me research it! I'll do anything you want!"
Her pride as a doctor, her reason as a scientist—all of it was gone, replaced by a raw, desperate hunger for discovery. She clung to Kazuma's leg like her life depended on it.
She didn't care how it looked. 'This could end the Gastrea plague.' Pride meant nothing next to that.
Kazuma didn't even hesitate. "No."
"I'm one of the Four Sages," she blurted. "I can read an entire library in three days! I can help you, strategize for you, join your guild—"
"Don't need it," Kazuma cut her off. "We already have Kayo. IQ two-fifty. Way smarter than you. She's a kid, she's got potential. You? You're just... old."
He smirked and pulled Kayo closer.
Kayo blinked, tilting her head. "It's not two-fifty, it's two-ten. Guild Master, are you teasing me again?"
She didn't know exactly what the number meant, but she could tell he was exaggerating—and it made her pout slightly.
Sumire twitched. "Old?"
Excuse me?
"I'm twenty-six! That's not old! Just... single. And friendless. Totally different issue."
She grit her teeth but forced a polite smile. "But I am still an excellent doctor and scientist. I can work for you! I'll serve you until I drop dead!"
"For science," she muttered under her breath, "dignity is optional."
"No need," Kazuma said. "Kayo's got perfect memory. She already copied all your knowledge. Give her a few years and she'll surpass you. She'll be our guild's top scientist—and our best doctor."
He ruffled Kayo's hair proudly. "That's how you teach kids to survive. Independence."
Kayo nodded seriously. "Doctor is smart, but I'll catch up within a year. Three years at most, and I'll surpass her. Then I'll become the guild's best doctor and scientist at age twelve."
She said it so calmly, as if it were a trivial promise—but her chin lifted slightly with pride.
Sumire twitched again. "Unbelievable…"
Then she inhaled deeply, as if making a grand, self-destructive decision. "Alright! Don't judge me by my current look—I've been up for a month straight! But if you give me that serum, I'll clean up, and you'll see I'm actually a beautiful woman. I'll do anything you want. Anything!"
She tried to strike a seductive pose, but with her tangled hair, sunken cheeks, and panda eyes, it was more tragic than tempting.
"Pfft."
Kayo crossed her arms and sniffed, glancing up at Kazuma. Her stare said "Well? Say something."
Kazuma looked at her, then at Sumire, and hesitated. "Our Kayo is cute and... umm..."
He looked around for help. "Uh... Enju?"
Enju perked up, her nose high and proud. "Obviously, I'm the cutest!" she declared, hands on her hips, waiting for him to agree.
Kazuma glanced down at her tiny frame and sighed. "You're adorable, yeah... but that's about it."
"Then there's Miko," he continued, "still young, but she's got potential. She'll grow up to be elegant and kind. Real wife material. You, doctor, are... what, twenty-something? A bit past your prime."
"Why are you looking at me like that!" Enju cried, puffing out her cheeks. "You sighed, didn't you? You totally sighed! Ugh, boys are all the same—they just like big boobs!"
She began hammering his side with her little fists while Kayo silently headbutted him in the ribs.
The rest of the girls quietly looked down at their own flat chests... and sighed in unison.
Cup size... none.
Meanwhile, Sumire turned pale, the color draining from her face like someone had hit "grayscale" on her soul.
"I'm... worthless..."
She collapsed forward in utter despair.
.
.
.