"Compassion. Regret. Desperation." The three key values involved the spell 'heal.' Chunji could already tell what the problems were even before casting the spell itself. Compassion and Regret were words that Chunji did not resonate with. It was honesty that made clear that the word 'compassion' was not a word to describe Chunji. Logically, efficiently, and cold. There is nothing warm about him that could be labeled as 'compassion.' Regret was something he was unfamiliar with, either. He gave it his all in his training, his procedures, his everything. There was not a time that he regretted failure.

Desperation.

That word was the only thing that made sense to Chunji. He had seen it in the eyes of his parents. Their desire to free themselves from the poor lives and live in more comfort. He had felt it. The eyes of his parents made him train him to his limit. There were times when he wanted to cry but held it in to press onward. Those tears were never seen again. Even back at the auditorium, he felt desperation at his stolen seat. Chunji still resented the shadow witch for taking the seat. He was not a good person by definition.

Still, it did not deter him. Failure was inevitable, but how to overcome it was important. Taking out a scalpel from his pouch, Chunji proceeded to slit the palm of his hand. A perfect incision, a habitual repetition that Chunji couldn't even feel the pain of it. Blood began dripping out of the new wound. Chunji dug his thumb into it, festering it in the process.

"Heal." Compassion for himself. That at the end of the tunnel, there was a reward of light. Regret about failure. Even if it was shallow, there was still a negative pool that dragged him down. Desperation for everything. The desire for glory, the desire for family, the desire to find the answer.

A sharp pain crunched his hand. It was nothing that he had ever felt before. Compassion was self-pity. He was only in it for himself. Selfish, arrogant, and idiotic. Regret was melancholy. Laziness, ineptitude, and disconnect. The only thing that went right was desperation. Desperation. Desperation. Desperation.

His flesh regrew, his bones realigned themselves, and the feel of touch reassembled. It was the 'perfect' heal. Perfect in the way that it cared nothing about the process but only for the end goal. 

When Chunji looked down at his hand, it was perfectly normal. It was also insufficient. The amount of pain he went through could send someone into shock if they were heavily injured. He needed to readjust the parameters. The practice was made perfect, and this healing spell would be the same.

Grabbing his scalpel, he went through the same process again. He would do it as many times as possible until he got the spell correct.