The reason why Naoya failed to claim the reverse cursed technique, even though his curse control was good and even his theory was near perfect, is because of the concentration of curse energy he added.
Naoya took the curse energy, which is negative in nature, and tried to multiply it and make it a positive charge; that theory is in fact the backbone of the Reverse Cursed Technique. But if you take curse energy as a magnet, then two negatives will repel each other, so someone can't add the curse energy and braid it to be positive.
Because of that reason, the solution Naoya came up with is something similar to emulsification; the negative curse energy will spin freely, as the imaginary centrifugal force will join the negative charge together to make a positive charge.
Till this step, Naoya was correct, but what he didn't predict was the channel for the newly formed positive energy to travel; only then will the Reverse Curse technique form. But since it didn't make the path, the formed positive energy didn't have anywhere to travel as it started to pool in the middle of the dense, spinning sphere of curse energy.
The outermost shell continues to have more curse energy, while the centermost part of the imaginary sphere becomes a positive one, all while without any change in shape or radius from the initial. Because of that, the pressure became high.
Naoya essentially created a high-energy, high-pressure, curse-energy balloon that was at its breaking point.
A more subtle example is Naoya had effectively built a sealed furnace with no vent.
And when he added the last thread, it popped and took both his arms, which were supplying curse energy.
All this happened because Naoya didn't come up with an exit path.
But now that he understood it, he was going to rectify his mistake.
(A/N: Again, I understand that that's not how RCT works, but I'm just explaining what Naoya thought his mistake was. He will achieve RCT because of another Innate Technique, which he didn't know he have.)
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The truth of my failure had become obvious only after lying in a hospital bed with both arms wrapped like festival decorations.
My theory had not been wrong. It had been incomplete.
I had focused entirely on the creation of positive energy and ignored the most important question afterward—where would it go? I assumed that once negative cursed energy was properly compressed and rotated, the entire mass would invert into positive energy. Instead, only the center transformed while the outer shell remained negative. The result was a pressurized disaster waiting to happen.
In short—
I didn't fail because I lacked talent. I failed because I was stupid. That was actually encouraging.
Stupidity could be corrected. Talent could not.
So naturally, while still admitted in a hospital room with fresh stitches and bandages around both arms, I decided to attempt it again.
Some people feared death after a near-fatal mistake. For me, my goal is destiny.
The room was quiet. Evening light slipped through the curtains, painting the walls orange. My cursed energy had partially recovered—not full reserves, but enough for a controlled attempt. This time I would not use a sealed sphere.
"This time," I muttered, "we use plumbing."
I raised my heavily bandaged hands and winced. Pain still stabbed through the joints, but I ignored it. Instead of forming a rotating sphere, I shaped the cursed energy into an imaginary hollow cylinder. Negative energy spiraled along the inner walls like water in a pipe, circulating rapidly while the center remained open.
The concept was simple. Compression along the edges. Transformation in the center.
And now, an exit path.
I fed in thinner streams with far greater precision than before, keeping the rotation stable. Sweat formed across my forehead. My breathing slowed. Every strand had to be measured, every pulse timed, every fluctuation corrected before collapse.
The cylinder trembled. I almost stopped.
At the center of the spinning structure, I felt warmth like the warmth I felt before the explosion.
A foreign sensation compared to the cold hostility of cursed energy. It was smooth, clean, and strangely alive.
My eyes widened.
"No way…"
I guided it downward instinctively toward my arms.
First the pain dulled and then vanished.
Beneath the bandages, I felt itching, tightening, movement. Torn tissue knitting together. Fractures reconnecting. Ruptured flesh restoring itself with unnatural speed. I nearly laughed from shock.
"It worked."
I almost shouted it.
Instead, I focused harder, carefully sustaining the flow. Too much and I might damage myself in the opposite direction somehow. This world loved technicalities. Slowly, steadily, I healed both arms until the sensation stabilized.
After the healing, I cut the technique.
"..."
I stared at my hands without a word.
With trembling fingers, I began unwrapping the bandages. Layer after layer fell away onto the bed sheets. Underneath, I looked at the skin was fresh and pink where stitches had been. There were open wounds or fractures. I flexed my fingers perfectly.
I clenched my hand to form a fist, then unclenched it, then clenched again.
I had done it. I had the Reverse Cursed Technique.
A laugh escaped me, low and disbelieving. "I'm a genius. It doesn't matter, in my previous life or current one, I am a prodigy." I give a dramatic laugh like those villains in the movies.
At that exact moment, the door slid open. I turned my head sharply.
Standing at the entrance, silver-haired and elegant as ever, was Mei Mei. She looked from my face to the mountain of discarded bandages to the perfectly healed arms I was dramatically flexing in bed.
Then one eyebrow rose.
"…Should I come back later?" she asked calmly.
I grinned like a madman.
"No. Come witness history."
~~~
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