"Something's off. Way off."
Yuki Tsukumo circled Jinsuke Zenin, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Every so often she'd reach out and pinch his arm, his back, even his shoulder, as if physical prodding might reveal the secret.
Sure, his Heavenly Restriction rejected Cursed Energy—she already knew that—but this reaction? It was absurd. She was a Special Grade Sorcerer, for crying out loud. Someone powerful enough to shake nations, and she'd actually been thrown back by the backlash.
She puffed out her cheeks. "You really are a freak of nature."
"Alright, time to give it up already."
Jinsuke pulled his shirt back on, clearly done with her experiments.
"Don't forget to transfer the payment. You know my account number."
Yuki glared at him, her cheeks still puffed like an annoyed chipmunk. "Yeah, yeah, I know! Can't you go one day without thinking about money?"
"Hey, don't say it like that," Jinsuke said quickly, waving a hand. "I'm not obsessed with money. I just enjoy the process of making it. And besides, everything I earn is honest work. That's not greed—it's dedication."
The truth was simpler: he only cared about money when he didn't have any. Which, at the moment, was often—especially after his "just-for-fun" gambling spree left him broke enough to not even afford a plane ticket home.
Most of the time, though, he drifted through life—training, traveling, or, as he liked to put it, "refining his Qi and blood."
Yuki sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "You're impossible. You're older than me, but sometimes you act like a damn teenager."
She crossed her arms and looked him up and down. "So, what's your plan now? Gonna keep mooching off rich women?"
"Uh…"
"That was the plan," he admitted with a shrug. "But if you're feeling generous, you could just give me some cash right now. Then I might consider heading home."
Originally, he'd planned to sweet-talk another wealthy lady for some travel funds. Then Yuki showed up and ruined the hunt. Asking her directly seemed faster.
"Wait, seriously? You're actually going back?" Yuki's brows lifted in surprise.
She knew him well—he'd been gone from Japan for almost eight years. She honestly thought he'd never set foot there again.
A faint smile tugged at his lips, and his tone softened. "I still have an younger brother there, you know."
Of course, by now, that little brother had probably given him a niece and nephew too. If he didn't go back soon, the next thing he knew, he'd be the one stuck babysitting. No thanks.
Yuki's eyes brightened. "So you do care about more than money. Fine, I'll cover your flight."
Then, with a sly grin, she added, "But since you're leaving… what about this apartment?"
Her gaze flicked toward the room, clearly hinting.
Jinsuke twitched. This woman didn't waste a single chance to freeload.
He grabbed the keys off the table and tossed them at her. "Here. Knock yourself out."
"But just so we're clear, this place isn't mine. The actual owner's out of town. If she comes back early, that's on you."
The apartment technically belonged to a foreign woman who'd gone abroad for work. Jinsuke had just been… borrowing it.
Yuki gave an OK sign, unconcerned. "No problem. I'll only crash here for a few days anyway. What are the odds she shows up now?"
After deciding to return home, Jinsuke threw together a simple dinner that night—naturally, Yuki mooched off that too.
The next morning, he did something rare for him: woke up early to catch a flight.
"You're really heading out? Safe travels," Yuki mumbled from the doorway, still in silk pajamas, her hair messy from sleep.
Annoying or not, he was one of the few people she actually called a friend.
Jinsuke glanced at her lazily. "Not bad. You've got potential."
And with that cryptic compliment, he turned to leave.
Yuki blinked, then suddenly straightened, realizing what he meant. Her sleepy brain snapped awake.
"Eyes of a hawk," she muttered under her breath, puffing her chest slightly. "Shame about the brain though. Total idiot."
Honestly, how could he be so clueless? She wasn't even being subtle. What kind of guy would turn her down?
If Jinsuke had heard her, his answer would've been simple: sorry, he only mooched off rich, sexy, beautiful women—and Yuki, despite meeting two of those requirements, failed the third. She was broke.
Zenin Clan.
In a wide tatami room, an elderly man sat cross-legged beneath a massive calligraphy scroll bearing the single character "Zen."
Outside, a crowd of family members was gathered, overseeing tests for the next generation—measuring Cursed Energy levels and potential Cursed Techniques.
"Exorcise it," an examiner ordered, holding up a low-grade Cursed Spirit before a trembling little girl.
"N-no… please, I'm scared…"
The girl shrank back, clutching her mother's leg tightly, eyes wide with terror. She wanted to be brave, but her body wouldn't obey. Finally, she shut her eyes and buried her face against her mother's thigh.
The adults around them frowned, though no one spoke up. At least she could see the Curse—that much was acceptable.
As long as a Zenin had Cursed Energy, there was always a chance they'd awaken a Cursed Technique. The strength didn't matter. The potential did.
"It's alright, Mai," her mother whispered gently, stroking her daughter's hair. "Mom's here."
"Enough. That'll do for today."
The examiner dismissed the Curse and started packing up, but the woman quickly called out, "Wait! You haven't tested Maki yet!"
Her plea made the nearby clan members burst into laughter.
"Maki? The one who can't even see Cursed Spirits?"
"Don't waste our time! Someone with no Cursed Energy thinks she'll awaken a Cursed Technique? Hilarious."
"Honestly, sister-in-law," another sneered, "you should just kick her out already. No Cursed Energy means no value. Keeping her here is just dead weight."
The woman's expression tightened with helpless anger. In a clan that worshiped Cursed Energy and techniques above all else, her daughter's weakness was a sin.
But Maki was still just a child.
Standing beside her mother, Maki Zenin lowered her head, fists clenched tight in her sleeves. Her bangs shadowed her eyes, hiding whatever emotion was stirring beneath.
"Hmm? So anyone without Cursed Energy is a failure now?"
A deep voice cut through the room.
Everyone turned as a tall figure stepped up behind the mocking clansman, one hand resting casually on his shoulder.
The man stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head—and froze.
That face. Those emotionless, dead-fish eyes. He'd never forget them.
"Y-you—you're back?!"
"Jinsuke Zenin?!"
The room fell silent.
Every clan member within earshot immediately tensed, shifting into battle stance.
Because the man standing before them—the one who had just returned—was the same Jinsuke Zenin responsible for the bloody "Zenin Incident" eight years ago.