Ron had tried asking other people—Morena, far away in Kakin, and Pyon, one of the Hunter Association's Zodiacs—but none of them could give him any clear answers. Whatever had happened was a secret outside of Begrossé. Perhaps no one beyond the church even knew the exact nature of the incident. All that was known was that such a change had occurred.
The next day, Ron left the capital of Begrossé and headed for the next city, one overseen by a red-clad cardinal. Compared to the capital, the city was smaller, but it had its own distinct character.
Ron hired a guide to lead the way once again. On Sunday, they entered the church. Ron noticed that the statues here were different from those in the cathedral where the archbishop resided. That meant the deity worshipped here was not the same. The scriptures recited by the cardinal also differed somewhat from the archbishop's.
"So there are many other factions within the same religion," Ron thought.
Like the archbishop, the cardinal's recitation carried a persuasive, almost bewitching effect. But unlike the archbishop, the cardinal made no effort to approach Ron directly.
Back at the hotel, Ron glanced at Crystal Sphere. Its progress had reached twenty-five percent.
That night, he was startled awake by a strange, eerie sound. He rushed to the window and looked outside. People had already fallen under the sound's influence.
Some stumbled into the streets, eyes bloodshot, faces twisted with rage, looking ready to attack anything in sight. They smashed cars, poured gasoline over them, and set them alight.
Bang!
The flames surged violently, engulfing an entire vehicle before it exploded. The car was hurled into the air, crashing back down as fragments and fire scattered in all directions.
Some bystanders were struck, but even when mortally wounded, they showed no reaction. In pain yet unflinching, they kept on destroying whatever was around them, as if driven solely by the impulse to destroy—mindless, like zombies.
A young man hurled himself headfirst against a store's glass wall.
Crack!
The glass splintered, throwing him back. Blood gushed from a deep wound in his forehead, yet he rose and charged again.
Bang!
This time, the glass shattered completely, and he stormed inside, leaving a heavy trail of blood on the floor.
Others climbed to rooftops and hurled themselves onto cars below, using their bodies as weapons to wreck them completely.
"These people are completely out of their minds," Ron muttered, his brow furrowing.
Soon, even people in Ron's hotel began acting the same way. Nina and the others woke up.
"Captain," someone called.
They all looked out the window, their expressions grim.
Finally, church clergy appeared. One held a scripture and began reciting loudly.
As his voice rang out, Ron noticed that the red in the people's eyes faded somewhat—but then the eerie sound surged again, overpowering the scripture's recitation.
More people fell under its sway.
Puh!
The cleric suddenly spat a mouthful of blood.
Ron's eyes narrowed. Neither the hidden, eerie sound nor the scripture's chanting carried any sense of Nen, yet both possessed some kind of power. From what Ron could tell, they were opposing forces. The cleric had just been overwhelmed, which was why he coughed up blood. The number of controlled civilians increased.
"That would mean the two forces share the same origin," Ron thought. "Otherwise, it's hard to explain. And if they are the same in origin, that could also explain why Begrossé's upheaval recurs every few decades—and why no one outside the church there knows about it. This disturbance is born from within."
Ron's gaze sharpened.
Soon, more church personnel arrived. With more voices chanting, the eerie sound was gradually suppressed—but it did not disappear. Instead, it shifted to another part of the city, where fresh waves of civilians emerged, eyes red, moving like the walking dead.
The clerics who had just resolved the situation nearby had to rush to the new location.
The entire night passed with the clergy running back and forth.
By dawn, the strange sound finally ceased. The clergy returned to the church, and no one could say how many civilians had died.
Ron acted as though he knew nothing, making casual inquiries with his guide.
"It's the killing ghosts," the young man said. "God says they appear because some among us are not devout enough. When the malice in their hearts builds up, it takes form as a killing ghost. The killing ghost is a punishment upon humanity. Those targeted by them are people who deserve it. Only the clergy can protect us. You've just arrived in Begrossé, so you might not understand, but the killing ghosts are real. If you feel uneasy, stay at a hotel near the church."
The guide's eyes were devout, his expression utterly serious. Clearly, he believed what he was saying.
Ron glanced around. Even though many had died last night, the city remained calm, as if the events had not disturbed daily life in the slightest.
"So this is what Wendy feared?" Ron thought. "Compared to simple death, killing, destruction, or monsters… this ability to brainwash and control minds is far more threatening to those in power."
He withdrew his gaze.
"So killing ghosts are born from the malice in human hearts?"
"That's right."
"And everyone they target has malice in their heart?"
"Yes."
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