That morning, Johan stood in front of a small mirror, staring at the cursed tattoo on his right shoulder blade, now spreading down to his elbow. The stigma resembled dark tree roots, faintly pulsing every time he moved. Though the curse's effects had lessened thanks to cultivation training and the protection of the Arda Tree, Johan knew this was merely a delay, not a cure.
With swift movements, Johan wrapped his arm in thick white bandages. He stared at the bandages for a moment before donning his military uniform—a camouflaged outfit that appeared foreign in this world.
"At least this will keep it hidden for now," he muttered. Johan let out a long sigh, relieved that Aoi had yet to realize how dire his condition truly was.
As he finished dressing, there was a knock at the door. "Johan, are you there?" Aoi's voice called from outside.
