""Cursed…?" Cynthia was surprised to hear that.
"What is your curse?" she asked, intrigued.
As the wound on Cynthia's calf fully healed thanks to my double-force heal, I stood up and wiped the sweat off my forehead. Using heal really took a toll on my MP; it's already down by half.
"Well, you could say my curse is… I was rejected by this world," I said.
"Rejected? What happens when you get rejected?" she asked. Deep inside her heart, something stirred, something she couldn't quite describe.
"I can't use skills or magic. I'm also classless. The weakest G-rank in my guild," I said flatly.
Cynthia squinted her eyes at me. "Are you trying to make fun of me? If you can't use skills or magic, then what was that just now?" She was referring to the healing magic I had just used on her.
"That skill isn't mine. I borrowed it from my friend over there." I pointed at Bob, who was still locked in a one-on-one battle with the skeletons.
