The mission went as planned, or at least that's what Suguru told himself. What caught Suguru off guard was their sheer numbers, more than his calculations had foreseen. The onslaught of cursed spirits was more than he bargained for, and he found himself ingesting more of those cursed orbs than his body could gracefully handle in a single day.

The taste, oh, the wretched taste of that cursed orb was like to ingesting a rag soaked in the residue of someone else's vomit. Suguru has counted how many times he's forced himself to endure this nauseating ritual of consuming cursed spirits – a sickening tally that now stands at an unsettling 6000.

After the mission, he retreated to the bathroom, his sanctuary for the aftermath. The cold tiles beneath him offer little comfort as he bends over the toilet, heaving and retching, the sound of his body's rejection reverberating in the confined space.

Suguru is oblivious to the world around him, unaware that you're there, witnessing this pitiful display of weakness. It's a vulnerability he never intended for anyone to witness, least of all you. Yet, here he was, grappling with the aftermath of a duty he's chosen to bear alone. The taste of bile lingers in Suguru's mouth, a bitter reminder of the sacrifices he makes in the name of protecting the weak.