Tokyo: The Ruins of the Visible God Cult
Hachiman Hikigaya was incredibly nervous. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, but he had to maintain a calm and composed demeanor. His hands kept instinctively touching his chest, as if to prevent the loss of the Yaksha statue tucked securely into his jacket pocket.
The Cult of the Visible God…
He stood outside the gates, staring at a massive, dilapidated mansion. He sniffed the air; the smell of burnt coals and ash was still slightly pungent, even now. Sure enough, it was exactly as the diary had described. The headquarters of the Cult of the Visible God was now a total ruin. It even felt like an old, decaying haunted mansion that had been burned to the ground many years ago.
'Something is wrong. Very wrong,' Hachiman thought, narrowing his eyes.
Logically speaking, the Cult of the Visible God's location wasn't too remote. In a metropolis like Tokyo, where land was incredibly valuable, would the secular government tolerate such a massive ruin sitting idle? Since it was now a burned-out husk, selling the plot to profit-driven businessmen shouldn't have been difficult, right?
'Someone deliberately preserved this ruin... but why?'
Hachiman pushed his way through the rusted iron gate. The further he went onto the grounds, the quieter the surroundings became. The ambient noise of the city simply faded away.
Thump. Hachiman stopped in his tracks, his scalp tingling with tension as he hesitated whether to continue.
A strange, pulsing "reminder" emanating from his chest pocket made him vaguely realize something. Something terrifying hadn't been cleaned up here yet. Suddenly, as if jolted awake, he felt a violent shock of fear, a chilling sensation spreading rapidly across his scalp.
'What is this feeling? Where did this 'reminder' come from?' he panicked. 'And what is this 'thing' that hasn't been cleaned up?'
He took a few steps back in a panic, his dead-fish eyes rapidly scanning his surroundings. Even the bright afternoon sunlight couldn't bring him any physical warmth; instead, there was only a chilling, eerie atmosphere pressing down on his shoulders.
> [Perhaps, the Visible God Cult still has some genuine items left that can lead to ascending to the top in one step…]
In his mind, the astonishing words he had read in Fumimaro's diary vaguely resurfaced.
Genuine items. Genuine items…
Could it be…
His hand instinctively wanted to reach into his pocket to check the statue, but instead, Hachiman just pressed his palm flat against his chest. His heart was pounding. It was beating incredibly fast. A vague, dark suspicion compelled his blood to surge through his body like a bewitching spell, making him feverish and his breath dry.
He arrived at the edge of a deep, blackened abyss in the center of the ruins. Hachiman could tell that there had once been a massive underground basement below. He bent down and touched the geology at the jagged edge. The earth looked as if it had been scorched by an impossibly high-temperature fire; he could even see severe charring and crystalline vitrification reactions in the soil.
Digging away the scorched dirt with his shoe, he uncovered a piece of paper, mostly burned around the edges. On it was written a chilling, noteworthy message:
> ———— (burned)
> Want to know the truth? Then eat it.
Eat it! Eat it!!
BOOM————!
An auditory explosion. A deafening, monstrous roar seemed to reverberate directly inside his mind, forcing Hachiman's heart to clench painfully as he scrambled backward to his feet. He dropped the paper into the pit as if he had been electrocuted.
In his ringing ears, the auditory hallucination—as if someone were truly roaring wildly right beside him—seemed like a sheer delusion caused by immense psychological pressure.
'Eat it…' He shuddered violently, his face deathly pale.
Watching the burned paper float lightly down into the dark abyss, Hachiman desperately wanted to steel himself, turn, and run.
'Dad, Mom… you really brought back something incredible to our house...'
"He's here."
Fumimaro Ayanokouji, a cruel half-smile playing on his lips, slipped behind a charred pillar, watching the teenage boy's retreating figure. He followed silently, acting as if nothing was amiss.
Yes. He couldn't successfully apply for a transfer order to this district, but couldn't he at least ask for a day of personal leave?
'Interesting brat...' Fumimaro thought. 'How did he find out about this place? It seems the Hikigaya family has some occult secrets I don't know about...'
But... secrets were good. Secrets were very good.
He narrowed his eyes. He was worried that the extreme, manic emotions in his eyes would spill out and alert the prey. He had originally only intended to use an ordinary family to ruthlessly establish his authority in his new precinct. But instead, he had stumbled upon an incredible, unexpected surprise.
'Coincidence? Where do so many coincidences come from...?'
He had once been a high-ranking confidant of Minister Atsuomi Ayanokouji, and could be considered a political elite, undoubtedly shrewd. Someone was probably using this entire incident to plot something massive in the shadows. He himself had likely become a pawn without anyone noticing.
He didn't mind being a pawn. As long as he could gain something from it. For example... the "real thing."
Hmm?
What's wrong with that brat?
Hiding in the shadows, Fumimaro saw the boy suddenly act frightened by something, pausing at the edge of the deep pit. Then, as if forcibly regaining his composure, the boy slowly walked away from the epicenter of the Visible God Cult.
It seemed… just like the many Metropolitan Police Department personnel who had scoured this place, there was no significant gain to be found in the dirt. Could that be it?
His twisted smile gradually faded into a scowl.
Similarly, Hachiman, who was initially walking away slowly to avoid drawing attention, gradually quickened his pace. He walked faster and faster.
Then, he ran! Run! Run for his life!!
He had already secretly dialed the Metropolitan Police Department's emergency line in his pocket. Only the official MPD could save him now!
Head down, Hachiman's highly analytical mind was practically spinning out of control.
'What do I do? What do I do!? That guy is definitely behind me!'
He couldn't hand over the Yaksha statue to the disgraced cop. Absolutely not! Hachiman knew this for a fact. If it were the past, when he was ignorant and naive about the world's darkness, he might have had a sliver of a chance to make peace by handing it over.
Now? Only the dead could guarantee the permanent burial of top secrets…
So he ran! He ran towards the main streets where there were dense crowds!
During this frantic sprint, Hachiman violently knocked down several pedestrians. He was deeply sorry. But this was his absolute moment of life and death. He believed that a disgraced man with such low moral standards as Fumimaro was most likely carrying a concealed firearm. He dared not gamble with his life. He couldn't afford to gamble with his family's lives.
What if that guy got the Yaksha statue, presented it, and directly gained occult merit with the higher-ups in the MPD? Then Hachiman's murder would probably be completely covered up and forgotten. It would also inevitably implicate his parents and Komachi…
So, the Yaksha statue... either he swallowed it himself, or he absolutely had to hand it over to the legitimate authorities at the MPD.
Could he physically swallow it? He dared not… That thing looked extremely ominous and carried a cursed aura.
However, for an ordinary high school student, being book-smart is one thing, but having actual tactical experience in a pursuit is another entirely. As a former elite Police Inspector, Fumimaro Ayanokouji quickly and effortlessly guided the teenager's frantic escape route like a shepherd driving a sheep exactly where he wanted it to go.
But in the blink of an eye… The brat vanished without a trace.
Gone?
Hachiman's palms sweated profusely with nervousness. He had ducked and hidden in a dead-end, secluded alleyway. He realized his sheer inexperience had led to him being outmaneuvered by a professional.
'I'll stall!' Hachiman resolved, pressing his back against the brick wall. 'Stall until the Metropolitan Police Department's dispatch arrives! I'll gamble that this guy won't dare cause a shooting in front of his own active colleagues!'
His hand tightly clutched his chest, his dead-fish eyes darting between anger and uncertainty. He barely dared to breathe heavily, listening to the ambient noise of the city.
Just as Hachiman was about to breathe a sigh of relief after a long minute without being discovered, the deliberate crunch of a footstep sent a paralyzing chill down his spine.
He turned his head stiffly.
He saw Fumimaro casually blocking the only exit to the alleyway. The man's jacket sleeves were pulled long, his hand resting inside his coat, clearly concealing something lethal.
"Give it to me..." Fumimaro demanded, his eyes wide and manic.
Hachiman backed away slowly, forcing a nervous, placating smile as he raised his empty hand. "Okay, okay, it's all yours, Officer. You can have whatever you want, as long as I have it."
Click...
It sounded exactly like the metallic safety of a police-issue firearm being disengaged, coinciding perfectly with the disgraced man's final, venomous words.
"I said... give it to me!!"
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Give me powerstones.
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