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Who were they waiting for?
That overwhelming power, able to change the world in the blink of an eye.
That commanding presence that could summon a hundred ghosts to bow.
That faint but unmistakably ominous shade of crimson.
A god.
…Or a wicked god?
In a daze,
Mitsue Takeda suddenly understood something.
She was laughing—
and crying at the same time.
Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face, the tears of an old woman flowing freely.
Was this joy so strong it turned into sobbing?
Or was it the release of decades of bitterness, injustice finally lifted?
She couldn't run anymore.
Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ground, crying her heart out.
It was real.
All of it was real!!
She had been right!
She really had been right all along!!
When she finally cried herself out, she wiped her tears away.
In her ears came a strange, layered voice—
It sounded like a newborn baby, yet also like a young man… like a man and a woman speaking in one breath.
It was the kind of magnificent, unearthly tone often recorded in sacred scriptures when describing the truly divine.
This only deepened Mitsue's already "fixed image" of what a god must be.
The King of Curses.
The Disgraced One.
The Imaginary Demon.
✦That chanting—born from curses and impossible to be human—sent a shiver straight down her spine.
After a long silence,
she suddenly bowed to the ground, prostrating toward the distant Fuma Shrine (Demon-Subduing Shrine).
She could see it—
Beneath that shrine's altar was a faint, shifting silhouette, as if half-hidden, half-revealed.
It didn't need to speak.
The extreme, crushing sense of pressure traveled along her line of sight and sank directly into her heart.
Excitement.
Exhilaration.
Mitsue's mind spun through every myth and legend she'd ever read in sacred texts.
She was certain—
she had stepped into the realm of a god.
And the fact that she had barged in so rudely yet wasn't immediately killed by the god's servants…
Well—
Thump, thump…
The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became.
Her heartbeat quickened, pumping blood until her whole body trembled with excitement.
"King of Curses! Disgraced One! Imaginary Demon!
I, Mitsue Takeda, meant no disrespect to the divine realm!
I beg the great god's forgiveness!
I humbly ask permission for an audience!"
The wind, driven by that cursed chant, suddenly stopped.
Mitsue stayed kneeling in place.
She didn't dare raise her head.
She refused to leave.
If she was going to die today, she would die in the god's domain!
After a long while,
a faint voice came from the direction of the Fuma Shrine:
"Granted—"
In that instant of distraction,
the god's domain shattered.
Mitsue heard the noise of a busy street around her again—
The everyday bustle of the city she knew so well.
Confused, she lifted her head.
People on the street were watching her kneel, as if enjoying some kind of street performance.
Her hands trembled as she lifted them to her face.
On the back of her right hand, a pattern of a shrine had appeared—
and she almost ground her molars to dust from clenching them so hard.
She had won her gamble…
She might have…
really won her gamble…
She stood up as if nothing had happened, brushed off her legs—
her nimbleness completely unlike that of an old, frail granny.
• Something had changed.
Her body no longer felt decayed, heavy, or weak.
In her eyes, the street seemed different—
humans and spirits coexisted.
A snake-like ghost curled around a streetlamp.
An old man-shaped spirit hunched in the corner of the street.
A crawling, insect-like ghost slowly made its way toward a storm drain.
• Everything really had changed.
She strode away quickly, leaving behind the mocking stares.
Her face, caught between tears and laughter, showed she was still riding that wave of wild excitement.
She walked with her back straight.
Her once-weak old legs now carried her forward like a force of nature.
Finally,
a crazed smile crept across her lips.
She was no fraud.
Not anymore.
Ah…
The Godmother of Downtown—
Today, she was truly reborn!
Heh.
Seishu Minazuki dispersed the domain—the Fuma Shrine.
That was a signature move of Ryomen Sukuna.
He glanced at his system points: 872.
A little under two hundred more and he could unlock a low-level dungeon.
But low-tier dungeons, even if unlocked, would only give him weak templates.
At best, they'd just add some variety to his arsenal.
So Seishu decided to save his points to exchange for Gojo Satoru's template instead.
Plus, he could also burn points for a one-time explosive power boost—
perfect for unexpected emergencies.
Looked at that way, these points were pretty handy.
Watching Mitsue practically bursting with excitement as she left,
Seishu couldn't help but chuckle to himself.
She might have made a killing—
but he? He never lost.
An ancient evil god revived in the modern day?
Yeah…
This disguise wasn't bad at all.
And since he was an evil god,
there was no need to pretend to have morals.
Bring me the best wine, the finest food, the most beautiful women—
I'll take them all.
No doubt about it—
corrupt nobles are corrupt nobles, no matter the world.
Sure, there might be good ones.
A few.
Very few.
So Seishu knew he'd inevitably face plenty of "honey trap" temptations in the future.
He patted his lower back.
Hopefully, he could survive them…
Yukino Yukinoshita was lost in thought.
She kept thinking about a certain classmate who seemed like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in days.
Yes—
Miko Yotsuya was starting to look pretty desperate for help.
She'd even come to the Service Club.
And everyone knew—
the Service Club had its very own high-and-mighty ice queen,
who was always happy to extend a helping hand to the weak.
But this time,
Yukino had hit a wall.
She couldn't solve Miko's vague, evasive problem.
It felt like Miko was afraid of revealing something.
She kept dodging the subject, instead asking Yukino roundabout questions about gods, Buddhism, and religion.
Could it be…
that Miko had gotten tangled up with some cult?
Yukino frowned deeply. This was going to be tricky.
Japan had its own unique national situation— cults popped up endlessly, and even the government often turned a blind eye.
Because who knew if a cult wasn't just a puppet of some high-ranking official?
Even in her own family—the Yukinoshita family—there was such a puppet group,
though they were kept contained in Chiba Prefecture.
As one of the richest and most influential families in Chiba,
they had control there.
But right now, Yukino was in Tokyo.
To Tokyo's elite,
she was just a country heiress from Chiba.
If Miko really was being targeted by a cult,
then any promise Yukino made to protect her would be weak.
Risking her family's safety against a true power in Tokyo…
for a classmate she barely knew?
She was certain—if she really did that, she wouldn't need her mother to step in.
Her older sister Haruno would personally ship her out somewhere "for her own safety."
Haruno glanced at her little sister and couldn't help but feel amused.
A childish club.
A childish ideal.
How long would it take for this kid to finally grow up?
She didn't know.
But until then,
she had to protect this naïve little rabbit.
Especially in Tokyo—
offend the wrong person here,
and you could literally end up dead.
Thankfully,
Yukino might be naïve,
but she wasn't reckless.
That, at least, was a relief.
"Yukino~ Don't be so stiff.
I've got something to deal with tonight, so remember—
don't go wandering around, okay?
Especially at night—lock your door tight and absolutely don't go out!"
"....."