"It's so comfortable!"
Steam still clung to my skin as I stepped out of the bath, sliding into clean clothes. Compared to the crypt, the air outside felt like freedom itself.
That damp, bloody hole had been unbearable especially right after I woke up. Being soaked in blood might sound metal, but trust me, it's disgusting.
So of course, the first thing I demanded was a proper wash. Cleanse myself of that rot.
The second thing? Well… the second thing was the real plan.
Killing every single cult member here... down to their so-called leader.
The more time I spent inside this cult, the more it gnawed at me.
At first, I'll admit, it was kinda novel. Being worshipped as the chosen one, the only immortal? Not bad for my ego.
But novelty dies fast. The way they chanted "Evil God this, Evil God that" on repeat like broken NPCs—it stopped feeling cool and started feeling… cringe.
Seriously, can't any of you talk about the weather? Jobs? Anything but "praise Jashin-sama"?
The only one who could string together a normal conversation was the cult leader, and that was somehow even creepier.
That's when it hit me.
People don't fear cults because of power, they fear the brainwashing. The way it strips people down until all that's left is fanatical devotion.
That's what's terrifying. Not their jutsu. Not their rituals. The mind-rot.
And me? The longer I stayed, the more wrong it felt.
I've got a bad feeling about this place… If I don't cut ties soon, I'll end up drinking the Kool-Aid and praising Jashin myself. And that would be peak embarrassment.
Of course, I'd already been planning this massacre before I even joined.
Reason one: I don't need a second immortal wandering around the world. One Hidan is enough. Two? That's how you get filler villains.
Reason two: these zealots aren't people anymore. They're puppets with bloodied strings.
I don't leave loose ends, especially not dangerous ones.
In the original flow of events...hah, listen to me, talking like this is a story—no one ever explained what happened to the cult.
Did they survive? Scatter? Vanish? It was a blank page. Well, I'll write in my own ink: their ending is here.
That's why I told them to prepare a "ceremony."
Once every sheep gathers in the pen, I'll turn slaughterer.
The cult leader might be troublesome. I can feel it, he's at least at the level of a jōnin. Strong, but not invincible.
As for the rest? Just small fish.
Once I carve down their leader, the rest will crumble.
They're so far gone in their fanaticism they might even off themselves for me.
I grinned at the thought, tilting my head back.
"Praise the Evil God, huh? Praise me instead… while you still can."
--
"Lord Chosen One, the Cult Leader and all the believers are ready. Even the Cult Leader has prepared a coronation ceremony for you. From today, you will become our new Cult Leader!"
The figure under the black robe bowed deeply, their tone full of reverence.
To them, Hidan blessed by Jashin was already more than human. He was practically a god.
"I know, I can't wait!"
Hidan smirked, feeling his blood tremble inside him. It wasn't nerves. It was joy. Anticipation. His body already ached for the killing that was about to come.
Coronation, huh? Cute. You think you're crowning a king… but really, you're just gathering in one place so I can make the cleanup easier.
"Let's go…"
He forced his voice calm. Pretend. That's all he had to do.
The Cult Leader wouldn't be easy to kill head-on. Unless it was a sneak attack, Hidan couldn't think of a reliable method.
Sure, he had immortal strength now... at least jōnin-level. But combat experience? Too thin.
Even after fusing with all of Hidan's memories, the truth remained: in Yugakure, he'd barely seen real bloodshed.
Immortal body, zero track record. Fantastic combo. Guess I'll wing it.
The followers poured into the auditorium once more.
The corpses from the last ritual had vanished.
In their place hung three fresh bodies, still dripping blood. The cult's "tribute" for this sacred ceremony.
Every time I think they can't get creepier, they prove me wrong. Peak devotion… or peak idiocy?
"I'm sorry…"
Hidan whispered the words in his heart as he stepped forward. He stopped beside the Cult Leader, still wearing that calm mask.
Waiting for the right moment was his best option.
All he needed was the tiniest cut — just a scratch to draw blood. Once he tasted it, the fight was already his.
The Cult Leader nodded toward him, then raised his voice to the believers below.
"Our Chosen One has been blessed by Jashin-sama! He has acquired a unique ability."
"From this day, he is the spokesperson of the Evil God… and he shall become our new generation of Cult Leader!"
Hidan's grin widened. His blood was humming again.
"Long live the Evil God!"
The congregation roared in unison, then dropped to their knees. Their heads pressed deep into the dirt, arms stretched forward in absolute devotion.
Their worship was suffocating, a sea of bodies groveling before their imagined god.
"Now, I will offer the mask of the Evil God," the Cult Leader declared solemnly.
"As the representative of this seat, I present it so that the true will of Jashin-sama may guide us to the temple of eternal life!"
He stepped toward Hidan, robes dragging, and slowly sank into a half-kneel. His hands trembled as he reached up to his face.
Piece by piece, the grotesque mask slid away.
Hidan tilted his head, curious.
Beneath the black hat, there was no face at all. Just a void, pitch black, like a night sky with no stars. Depthless. Empty. Dead.
Wow. A cult leader who literally has no face.
What's next? A personality too?
Still kneeling, the Cult Leader held the mask out with both hands, eyes lowered in reverence. His voice shook with expectation.
The moment Hidan accepted it, he would be crowned the new leader of the cult.
Hidan extended his left hand slowly, reaching for the mask.
The Cult Leader exhaled, relief softening his shoulders.
That was when Hidan's lips curved into a grin.
Wrong move, buddy. You don't pass me the keys to the temple... you hand me the chance to slit your throat.
In the same breath, his right hand whipped back.
The March Scythe screeched free, the iron scent of blood swirling as the blade arced forward.
Phew
The scythe tore through the black robes, catching the Cult Leader off guard. A spray of blood followed, crimson against the stone hall.
The blow didn't kill him outright, just a cut across the chest, shallow, but enough.
Enough to draw blood.
Got you.
Hidan's grin widened. For him, that single drop was already victory.
"Why?"
The Cult Leader's hoarse voice rasped through the hall. It carried no anger, no hatred.
Only doubt.
He had believed in Hidan. Had even been ready to pass him the mantle of leadership. And yet, here was betrayal, sharp and bloody.
"Why?"
Hidan barked out a laugh, swinging the scythe casually as blood dripped from its blade.
"Why not? You thought I was gonna sit here and hold hands with you freaks? Nah. I just wanted to see how much juice this so-called blessing gave me."
His grin was sharp, his tone mocking.
"Oh? If that's the case…"
The Cult Leader's eyes darkened, his chakra bursting like a storm. He looked almost… proud.
"Then let me be the one to test you, Lord Cult Leader."
He was prepared to die, to throw himself at Hidan as proof of faith.
Hidan tilted his head, watching the guy posture like he was marching into a movie finale.
This dude's really gonna stand there like he's in a samurai drama. Somebody get him an Oscar.
He snorted out loud.
"Man, you're way too eager to get cut up. You sure you're not into this?"
The cultists stirred, eyes gleaming. They didn't even flinch. Their leader was about to be diced up and they looked like fans at a concert.
Hidan clicked his tongue.
Unreal. Bunch of psychos treating this like front-row tickets. I swear, only thing missing is popcorn.
"Then…" Hidan swung his scythe lazily, blood trailing in the air like paint on a brush.
"…let's start the real ceremony."
"I… I am willing to return to the arms of Lord Jashin!"
The Cult Leader threw his head back, laughing, chakra crackling around him.
Hidan grinned wider, licking the blood off his blade, eyes flashing with insanity.
"Good. Makes my job easier. Come on then... step up. I'll show you what real pain looks like."
And then it began.
In the believers' frenzied gaze, Hidan's body transformed.
His skin turned pitch black, like tar pouring over him. His face bleached white, stark and hollow.
Dark lines carved across his body, white markings streaked over them until his whole form looked like death painted in ink.
"Long live the Evil God! Long live the Evil God!"
The cultists screamed, their voices filling the hall.
Hidan just twirled his scythe, smirking.
"Yeah, yeah… long live me. Let's get this over with."
--------------------------------------
Support me at patreon.com/Arthorain and read up to 50 Advanced Chapters and R-18 Content!
Update schedule: 7 chapters/week
Every 100 power stones = 1 Extra Chapter
By voting with [power stones], you can easily get double the number of chapters.