Tokyo: Proving one's position from behind the scenes

The ground was shaking. The foundation of the entire temple seemed to be lifted up from below by an invisible giant hand, then loosened again. The wooden beams and pillars emitted a series of dull creaks, like the sound of an old man coughing. The paper window on the front of the Buddha hall suddenly bulged outward, the paper breaking off from the wooden lattice to reveal the dark interior of the Buddha hall behind it.

The ground cracked.

The cracks started directly beneath the Buddhist hall and extended east and west. Soil churned out of the cracks, as if something was pushing upwards from the ground, arching the entire soil layer. The foundation of the Buddhist hall tilted in the cracks, wooden pillars slid off their bases, and gray tiles from the roof slid off the rafters one after another, shattering into pieces on the ground. The sound of shattering was crisp in the night air, like bones breaking.

The mountain gate leaned to one side as the crack extended, and the left gatepost broke off at the base, revealing fresh, white wood shavings beneath the peeling red lacquer. The white wood was particularly glaring in the moonlight. The dirt path leading to the temple was arched into a ridge, with gravel and dirt rolling down both sides of the ridge to reveal the damp, humus-smelling deep soil beneath.

Murai grabbed the technician's arm and pulled him away. The two stumbled and ran towards the dirt road, their uniformed colleague following behind, one hand on the leather case of his walkie-talkie at his waist, the other waving in the air for balance. Maeda Shunichi was grazed on the shoulder by a piece of broken tile flying from the direction of the Buddhist temple, tearing a gash in his monk's robe and revealing thin, age-spotted skin beneath. He staggered back a few steps, his rosary slipping from his hand, the beads scattering everywhere in the moonlight, some rolling into a crack and falling into the churning darkness.

Yongshan Ming stood in the middle of the dirt road, his crimson kasaya fluttering in the air currents surging from the cracks, the hem of the kasaya billowing backward to reveal the dark gray monk's robe underneath. His white beard swayed backward in the air currents, every silver strand straightened, but his feet remained motionless, as if nailed to the dirt road.

He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes briefly.

When I opened my eyes again, the Buddhist hall had completely collapsed.

The roof broke in the middle, and the slopes on both sides tilted inwards, with gray tiles cascading down from the break like a waterfall, crashing onto the wooden beams and Buddha statues inside the temple.

At the center of the collapse, where the soil was churning most violently, the soil seemed to be boiling, constantly bulging, cracking, and bulging upwards, and a huge bulge suddenly rose from the ground.

The bulge was larger than the width of the Buddhist hall, extending from the collapsed center to what was once the courtyard. Large swaths of soil had peeled away from the top of the bulge, revealing a smooth, chitinous, grayish-white, irregularly textured, curved surface underneath.

The grayish-white, curved surface continued to rise, pushing more dirt and rubble aside from both sides. A broken beam slid off the side of the bulge, bounced on the grayish-white surface, and fell into the crack with a dull thud.

Eight spider legs emerged from the soil, each as thick as an adult's arm and over three meters long. The joints of the legs were covered with a black, hard shell, the edges of which were covered with fine, barbed bristles. At the ends of the legs were sharp claws, the tips of which pierced the ground, dragging the entire massive body out of the earth.

Its abdomen, supported and protruding from the ground, was a round, grayish-white mass covered with dark brown markings. The markings resembled a distorted human face, with two dark indentations where the eyes should have been and a curved slit where the mouth should have been. At the end of its abdomen was a short, thick silk-spinning organ, from which grayish-white viscous fluid dripped, pooling on the ground into a slowly solidifying white slurry.

A pair of fangs extend from the front of its body, their bases black and their tips sharp, inward-curving fangs. The fangs are longer than an adult's palm, their tips gleaming with a bluish luster in the moonlight. Venom seeps from the openings at the tips, dripping onto the ground, each drop making a slight hissing sound as it hits the ground, as if corroding something.

The moment its entire body emerged from the soil, it lay sprawled on the ground, its eight spider legs spread wide, occupying the entire space that had once been the Buddhist hall and half of the courtyard. It was taller than a person, and from the ground to the highest point of the bulge on its back, it was estimated to be at least as tall as two people stacked on top of each other.

It turned its head, its dark red, vertical pupils scanning everything around it before finally spotting the people on the dirt road.

Shunichi Maeda stood at the closest point to it, no more than ten steps away. The old monk's legs were trembling, fear bringing an instinctive, uncontrollable muscle reaction. His mouth was open, his lips were cracked, and a muffled sound, as if someone was choking him, came from his throat.

The earth spider tilted its head slightly, as if it were sizing him up.

A white spider silk shot out from its tail, faster than any arrow. The silk, nearly the diameter of an adult's thumb, traced a straight, almost invisible white line through the air. The end of the silk clung to the chest of Maeda Shunichi's monk's robe, tightening instantly and violently dragging the old monk forward. His wooden clogs plowed two shallow furrows in the ground, sending pebbles and dirt flying behind his heels as his body slid irresistibly toward that gaping mouth.

A golden light struck from the side, hitting the spider silk between Maeda Shunichi and Tsuchigumo.

The moment the golden light touched the spider silk, the white silk snapped in two like butter being cut by a red-hot wire, wisps of grayish-white smoke rising from the break, carrying the smell of burnt protein. Maeda Shunichi's body slid forward a few steps due to inertia, then stopped, kneeling on the ground, hands bracing against the earth, gasping for breath.

Where the golden light dissipated, stood a monk, a monk formed from pure golden light.

Standing nearly three meters tall, his physique was almost inhumanly robust. His shoulders were twice the width of a normal person's, and his chest was thicker than any bodybuilder could achieve. His skin was golden, a warm, amber-like color, as if it had been soaked in sunlight. The lines of his muscles were clearly visible under the golden light; each muscle seemed to be cast in gold, but its surface lacked the cold luster of metal, instead radiating a warm, vibrant glow.

His face had no features, only a smooth golden plane, but the shape and outline of that plane were exactly the same as the face of the monk Jiroku, whom Nagayama Akira had transformed into.

"King Kong? Is this King Kong?" This thought flashed through Shunichi Maeda's mind.

Yongshan Ming stood at the edge of the dirt road, his crimson robe ceasing to flutter in the air currents. His right hand, which had been clasped together, loosened, fingers spread, palm facing outward. Golden magical power surged from his palm, continuously flowing into the body of the Vajra phantom, as if an invisible golden thread connected his hand to the Vajra's back.

King Kong moved.

It took a step, its foot treading on the collapsed rubble, crushing the broken wood and tiles into powder beneath its feet. Its right fist, about the size of a small gasoline can, clenched into a denser, gold-leaf-like layer of light on its surface. It walked up to the earth spider, raised its fist, and slammed it into the side of the spider's head.

The fist struck with a deep, resonant sound, like the tolling of a temple bell. The metallic sound waves spread through the night air, sending debris flying from the surrounding rubble. The earth spider's head snapped to the left, its fangs slashing wildly through the air. Venom dripping from its fangs arced through the air before landing on a broken wooden post. White smoke immediately rose from the post's surface, and a fist-sized dent was corroded into it.

The earth spider used all eight of its legs to propel itself backward a short distance, landing on the rubble. Its claws dug into the cracks in the wood and soil, stabilizing its body. It turned its head, revealing a clear crack on its forehead, shaped like the surface of pottery shattered by a fist, from which dark red liquid seeped.

It opened its mouth, and its tail once again shot out spider silk. This time, there were three, shooting simultaneously from three different angles at King Kong's chest, abdomen, and right leg.

King Kong raised both hands from his sides at the same time, his left hand blocking the spider silk on his chest and his right hand blocking the spider silk on his abdomen. The spider silk on his right leg hit King Kong below the knee. The white spider silk started to burn the moment it touched King Kong's golden skin, and grayish-white smoke came out from the point of contact. The spider silk was burned through within three seconds.

Taking advantage of the opening, the earth spider pounced. Its body pressed down on King Kong, and its eight spider legs simultaneously stabbed at King Kong's torso and limbs from all directions. Its fangs were opened to their maximum angle, and its venomous teeth were aimed at King Kong's neck.

Kong didn't retreat. Its bound hands suddenly pushed outwards, the spider silk stretching and crackling on its wrists before snapping one strand after another. The broken silk bounced through the air like white fireworks exploding in the night sky. Kong's left fist broke free from the remnants of the silk and slammed directly into the earth spider's head as it lunged forward. Its right fist followed closely, striking the softest spot on the earth spider's abdomen—the area where the demonic mask was located.

The first punch landed on the bridge of the demon's nose, cracks spreading outwards from the bridge, and more dark red mucus gushed from the cracks. The second punch landed in the center of its abdomen, the impact penetrating through the hard shell and into the interior. The earth spider's body suddenly contracted inwards, like a punctured balloon, its eight legs curling up simultaneously before snapping straight back up.

King Kong's hands gripped the earth spider's fangs, one in each hand, holding them by the base. Golden light spread from the point of contact between his palms towards the fangs, causing the black shells on the fangs to crack under the golden light, the cracks spreading like a spiderweb towards the tips of the fangs. The earth spider's head twisted wildly, trying to break free from King Kong's hands, but King Kong's fingers were already embedded in the cracks of the shell, his knuckles bending inside and jamming the joints of the fangs.

King Kong exerted force with both arms at the same time, pulling outwards.

Two fangs were broken off at the base, revealing grayish-white soft tissue and dark red fluid inside. The fluid gushed from the break, splashing onto King Kong's chest and arms, hissing against the golden surface, but leaving no trace. The earth spider's mouth opened to its limit, emitting a sharp whistling sound—not a cry, but the kind of sound one makes when air is forced out of the body—as its eight legs frantically scratched at the ground, their claws digging deep furrows in the mud and rubble.

King Kong tossed the broken fangs to the ground, clenched his right fist, and the golden light emanating from his fist was more intense than ever before, like a miniature sun compressed into his fist. He bent down and slammed his fist into the gaping maw of the earth spider.

The fist pierced through the mouth, through the throat, through the violently writhing darkness within the body, striking a point deep within the earth spider's interior. In that instant, the earth spider's entire body was illuminated by golden light from within, its grayish-white abdomen becoming translucent, revealing a faint golden light slowly rotating within its body.

King Kong drew his fist.

The earth spider's body began to disintegrate from the inside out. First, its demonic face collapsed; all the cracks on its face split open, and the entire face shattered into countless pieces like a broken pottery jar. Fragments fell from its head and onto the ground, revealing a blurry mass of soft tissue charred by the golden light. Next came its abdomen; the grayish-white hard shell split open in the middle, and a mixture of dark red fluid and grayish-white mucus gushed out from the cracks, spreading across the ground. One by one, the eight spider legs lost their strength, the hard shells at the joints peeled away, and the leg muscles turned inside out, like stripped twigs.

The earth spider's body collapsed with a crash.

It lay on its side on the rubble, its eight spider legs still twitching slightly, but no longer possessing any strength. The fluid gushing from the fissure in its abdomen gradually decreased, until only a few drops of dark red liquid slowly dripped from the edge of the fissure.

King Kong stood beside the Earth Spider's corpse, its golden light, which had begun to dim slightly after the battle, softened into a gentler, warmer pale gold. Its breathing was steady, its posture upright, showing no signs of fatigue from the fight.

It crouched down, its right hand reaching into the largest fissure on the earth spider's abdomen, rummaging through the fluids for a while. Its fingers touched something hard, completely different from the surrounding soft tissue. It pulled the object out of the fissure and held it up in the moonlight.

A Ganoderma lucidum.

Its shape is not much different from ordinary Ganoderma lucidum. The cap is fan-shaped with curled edges, and the stem is short and thick. The color is not the reddish-brown common in Ganoderma lucidum, but a grayish-white color, with fine, dark brown lines covering the surface.

The cap has a very thin layer of mucus on its surface, which gleams with a cold, eerie light under the moonlight. The mucus has the same texture as the silk spun by a ground spider—grayish-white, translucent—that flows slowly across the cap without dripping.

[Female Earth] Qi Refining level spiritual item, Ghost Face Fungus.