Chapter 96: The Sculptures
"The Post Office?"
Togawa Sakiko sounded genuinely confused over the headset. This was the first time she had heard the name. "The Jujutsu Association hasn't provided me with any data regarding that. I'll go ask for you—"
"No need," Hikigaya Hachiman interrupted, shaking his head.
Sakiko's ignorance confirmed his suspicion: the Association was intentionally keeping him in the dark.
It wasn't that they had forgotten him—they wouldn't dare. Ever since Hachiman had "liberated" a high-ranking official from the General Directorate using "minor measures," those old men wanted to install a camera on his person. If he didn't know about the Post Office, it was because they were hiding it.
"Inform them that I am heading to the Jujutsu Association headquarters," Hachiman ordered.
"Now?" Sakiko checked the time; it was past 9:00 PM.
"Yes. Please."
Hachiman was an Imperial veteran. Any threat involving the xenos or the Warp had to be eliminated immediately. If the Association was hiding information while a threat like the Post Office existed, they were playing with fire.
If they wouldn't give him the files, he would collect them in person.
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Within two minutes of Sakiko's notification, Hachiman's phone rang. It was a high-ranking official from the General Directorate, his voice trembling with caution.
"Your Excellency... is there something we can help you with?"
They had to be cautious.
After tonight's events at Kurofune Prison, Hachiman's value as the "Emperor's Cleaner" had skyrocketed. He had stopped a wide-scale destruction technique that even Gojo Satoru couldn't have handled.
They didn't know how they had offended this "deity," but they knew his visit wouldn't be pleasant.
"So, after such a major incident tonight, I'm not welcome to report for duty?" Hachiman asked dryly.
"N-no! We were just afraid of wasting your time! A helicopter is on its way."
Hachiman didn't wait for Gojo. Satoru had to escort the lightning curse user and teleport the wounded to a doctor.
Soon, the rhythmic thrum of rotors echoed. A specialist pilot—a sorcerer from the Association—arrived to pick him up.
Hachiman boarded in silence, closing his eyes to rest.
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The Association headquarters was nestled deep in the mountains of Kyoto, protected by a massive barrier similar to Jujutsu High. Upon landing, Hachiman removed his mask. In this hive of information, the mask was too recognizable. Showing his real face was, ironically, a better way to blend in.
He was led through a government-style office building. Despite the late hour, the staff were frantic, dealing with the aftermath of the prison attack. Hachiman was ushered into a large meeting room lit by candles, the floor covered in tatami mats.
The "higher-ups" were hidden behind folding screens, appearing only as silhouettes—a cowardly tradition Hachiman had grown used to.
"Why did you hide the Post Office from me?" Hachiman went straight to the point.
The silhouettes shifted uneasily. One finally spoke: "Did Your Excellency not receive the files? We ordered them sent to all Grade 1 sorcerers... Ah, perhaps since you haven't technically 'joined' the Association, you were overlooked. A clumsy mistake by the subordinates. We will issue them immediately."
"I've already seen Gojo's copy," Hachiman said, his voice dropping an octave.
"I want all the data. Everything."
The room fell silent. The General Directorate was in a bind. They hadn't wanted to pique Hachiman's interest in the Post Office because he was a "wildcard" they couldn't control. But since the information had already leaked to Grade 1 sorcerers, withholding it was no longer an option.
The silhouettes looked toward the Chairman. Finally, a voice spoke: "I understand. Follow my men. The secrets of the Post Office are classified at the highest level; they are not kept in the standard archives."
Three men in black trench coats, their faces and hands wrapped in thick bandages under black fedoras, entered.
They were [Kage-goroshi] (Shadow Killers), the Association's secret assassination unit. Each was at Nanami Kento's level.
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Hachiman followed the three men to a small, windowless room. "We will use a teleportation technique, My Lord," the leader said. It took all three of them to perform the ritual, ensuring the location remained a absolute secret.
When Hachiman opened his eyes, he was in a vast underground cavern. Before him stood a colossal bronze door, bound by massive chains and engraved with a savage dragon.
"It is inside," the leader bowed. "We do not have the clearance to enter further."
Hachiman pushed the doors open. As he stepped inside, his heart, usually a fortress of calm, began to hammer against his ribs in a fit of rage.
"What... is this?!"
The 70-meter-high space contained four magnificent, towering statues.
On the far left: A bloated, pale figure with a two-part body. Its skin was covered in pustules, sores, and boils that looked as if they were oozing foul rot. It had deep-set sockets with jaundiced eyes and a permanent, decaying grin. Second: A deity in blood-red armor made of burning coal, decorated with horns and spikes. It sat upon a throne of brass, exuding the stench of blood and sulfur, with an unnaturally long tongue. Third: A phoenix-like entity with two heads sharing one body, its feathers shifting through a spectrum of kaleidoscopic, flaming colors. Fourth: An androgynous figure, neither purely male nor female, possessing a lithe, muscular grace and pale pink skin—an image of ultimate, seductive beauty.
To Hachiman, this was the ultimate blasphemy.
These were the four Ruinous Powers of the Warp: Nurgle, Khorne, Tzeentch, and Slaanesh.
"Hahaha, are you shocked?" The Chairman of the Association walked in behind him, looking like a serene old man. "I felt the same when I first saw them. Let me introduce them."
"From the left: The God of Life and Reincarnation—The Supreme Savior."
"Second: The God of Courage and Strength—The Heavenly Lord of War."
"Third: The God of Wisdom and Strategy—The Master of Changing Fate."
"Fourth: The God of Love and Joy—The Lord of Ultimate Bliss."
Hachiman's face was a mask of cold fury. His sword cleared its scabbard with a hiss, a holy, purifying light erupting from the blade.
"You cannot destroy them!" the Chairman yelled, throwing himself in front of Hachiman.
"A thousand years ago, the Fujiwara clan led the sorcerer families to defeat the Four Cults and moved these statues here! They contain the collective prayers and 'incense' of the ancient people. If you break them, the energy will return to the 'originals' and make them even stronger!"
The Chairman had underestimated Hachiman's anger. Hachiman didn't just want to destroy the statues now; he wanted to execute the Chairman.
Seeing these corrupted idols stored here was proof enough: the command structure had been compromised.
According to Imperial Law, anyone involved with the Ruinous Powers of Chaos—noble or commoner—was subject to total extermination.
In this world, there was no such law, but Hachiman was the law.
The only good xenos—and the only good heretic—is a dead one.
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