Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes

The reporters on the periphery finally realized that the situation was completely out of control. They stared in horror at the eerie black clouds churning deep within the shrine, and no one dared to take another step.

Even the slowest person should understand by now.

The "demon mist," regarded by countless villains as a nightmare and the god of death, has already descended.

It comes to reap lives.

Chapter 203: Chance to Survive

"Quickly! Deploy the drones!"

The ominous reputation of the demonic fog was enough to scare away any reporter who wanted to rush in and grab the headline, but it could not extinguish their instinctive desire for a sensational story.

The dense black clouds, like an overturned cauldron, completely enveloped the spirit-summoning shrine. Want to see what was happening inside? Drones were their only eyes.

The reporters retreated to what they thought was a safe distance, their adrenaline surging under the stimulation of the big news, making them ten times more excited than before. Even the torrential rain couldn't extinguish the light in their eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, the sky near the Summoning Society is as dark as midnight. Citizens in the vicinity, please do not approach! Evacuate immediately! Repeat, evacuate immediately!"

"The demonic mist has acted unusually, choosing early morning and such a public occasion to descend! Does this mean that even the demonic mist cannot tolerate the actions of the Jingling Society? According to the information we have, the Jingling Society is an organization composed of..."

A number of news vehicles nearby launched their drones toward the Summoning Society. All sorts of drones took off with a buzz, like wasps whose nest had been disturbed, cautiously swarming toward the dark cloud of death from different directions and heights.

The pilots nervously maneuvered their drones, trying to avoid the churning core of the black mist and attempting to slip through the gaps in the buildings. However, just as they were some distance from the walls, barely able to vaguely glimpse the chaotic figures inside—

The signal is lost.

The screen went black.

Beneath the churning black clouds, drones that had lost signal, triggered hovering, or automatically returned to base were being kneaded as if by an invisible giant hand. After a few teeth-grinding metallic twisting sounds, they turned into lumps of sparking scrap metal, which, along with the cold raindrops, crashed back to the ground.

The thick, impenetrable black clouds seemed to coalesce into a blurry, enormous face in mid-air, shrouding the entire Summoning Society and the surrounding streets in its icy gaze.

Iwasaki felt the surging power within him. When he used Overdraft last time, he knew he could choose the temporary direction of his ability's enhancement.

Last time, he chose "The Mage's Hand," gaining immense strength of tens of tons and an unlimited number of units. This time, he focused on "Invisibility" and "Illusion."

The effect is immediate.

What was originally just a wisp of black mist has now spread like a dark cloud that blots out the sun, accompanied by a powerful signal interference field.

Even more remarkably, he could instantly appear anywhere within the area shrouded in black mist, like a ghost. This black cloud was his domain, his teleportation portal!

The enhancement of illusionary abilities is even more astonishing.

He can now simultaneously exert a collective illusion on a large number of targets within range, precisely provoking their nerves, amplifying their negative emotions, and causing them to rub against each other, clash, and ignite each other's powder kegs without realizing it.

He wouldn't leave a single one of these people alive. The dead naturally wouldn't report to the authorities that the demonic mist possessed the ability to create illusions.

Even if the authorities later discovered something amiss, he was prepared, with two carefully collected spider lilies.

His research revealed that this substance itself possessed strong hallucinogenic properties. If they were "coincidentally" found at the scene, the insane behavior of those people would be perfectly explained: the demonic mist had used a special plant to induce hallucinations, which was one of the reasons why he had specifically left one for Muramasa Takii yesterday.

"I will judge the crimes of Tokyo."

The intoxicating feeling brought on by the surge in power swept over him once again, even more intensely than before, giving him an arrogant impulse to look down upon all living beings and judge the entire city of Tokyo.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the dangerous thought. A thick, inky black mist separated from the clouds, like a nimble venomous snake, swiftly sweeping across the palaces.

The hundreds of "Yasukuni Swords" (Note 1) enshrined in front of the shrine were swept away by the black mist and disappeared without a trace.

Because the demonic mist appeared directly at the live broadcast, the official team received the news immediately. The news exploded in the official system like a bomb, and they quickly executed the response procedure, mobilizing troops to completely surround the Summoning Society.

“Around midnight, Ms. Muramasa claimed that there might be something unusual in Osaka and rushed there to handle it. We have confirmed that she is still in Osaka. We have informed her of the situation at the Shokosha, and she estimates that it will take at least an hour for her to return to Tokyo,” Leon reported quickly.

"Furthermore, last night, Ms. Muramasa interfered with one of the Demon Mist's operations, so perhaps this is a form of protest or retaliation against her?"

Leon himself didn't believe his own claim, but he still reported it that way.

Because he was reporting to Japan's Minister of Defense, Leon's nominal superior.

The subtext of his words couldn't be clearer:

Muramasa may have been in contact with the Demon Mist last night. She then left Tokyo for Osaka overnight, and the very next morning the Demon Mist caused such a commotion at the Shokonsha. The timing is too coincidental. Could Muramasa be someone who knew about this? Or perhaps she deliberately left to avoid the battle?

Whenever he had the chance, he would plant spies between Muramasa and the Japanese government.

The Minister of Defense listened without any change in expression, as if he hadn't understood Leon's implied meaning at all.

He simply nodded slightly and began to arrange work regarding the Self-Defense Forces, instructing the extraordinary assault force under Japanese command to cooperate with the Y-shaped assault team to complete the encirclement of the Shokonsha.

The order was given, but a problem immediately arose.

The location of the Summoning Society is right in the heart of Tokyo! Even if we know that an explosion might be effective against the Demon Mist, would we really resort to bombing? This requires extremely, extremely careful consideration, especially since the Demon Mist has not shown the same uncommunicative, irrational destructiveness as the Demon Sword or the Giant.

Moreover, the symbolism of the Summoning Society itself is too heavy for some people, including the Minister of Defense himself. It is a spiritual totem for many right-wingers.

He knew better than anyone that if the Soul Summoning Society were destroyed during his term (especially by his own forces), he would be nailed to the pillar of historical shame and regarded as a traitor!

When the time comes, if you want to be dignified, you can commit seppuku or jump off a building, which will also preserve your family.

If he's not respectable, someone will naturally come to "help" him maintain his dignity. Even in this position, he cannot escape this kind of reckoning.

"Sir, based on initial observations, the abilities Demon Mist has displayed this time are significantly different from previous records. We suspect this is the result of his increased strength after completing the sacrifice, but we cannot rule out the possibility that it is a temporary burst of power similar to the Iwasaki family incident." A subordinate wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice dry as he added to the intelligence analysis, "Based on this, the tactical effects that the Y-shaped assault team planned to achieve may be difficult to achieve."

The Demonic Mist is the transcendent being that the official forces have encountered most frequently. By analyzing previous battle records, they have roughly figured out the Demonic Mist's "normal" strength level.

Only at the Iwasaki family's house did the demonic mist's performance reach a terrifying peak, completely different from her previous performance.

There are only two possibilities: either the demonic mist had been hiding its strength all along, and only truly revealed its fangs during the incident with the Iwasaki family; or it possesses some kind of powerful, short-duration attack with a huge cost.

Considering that the Demon Mist's subsequent actions never reached that exaggerated level, the official stance is more inclined to believe the latter—that the outbreak came at a price.

It was based on this assessment that they dared to form a Y-shaped commando team, attempting to encircle and annihilate the enemy with specialized equipment. If the Demonic Mist could routinely toss around trucks weighing tens of tons like toys, the best strategy would be to stay as far away as possible, relying entirely on long-range firepower and extraordinary intervention.

The Defense Minister remained silent for a few seconds before finally uttering only, "Let's do our best."

"Sir, Commander McCullough's encrypted line has been connected," the communications officer reported.

"Bring them in." The Minister of Defense sighed, his back seemingly hunched over.

He knew what the American commander opposite him would say. He had to rack his brains to come up with a reason to persuade the other side not to use the doctrine of firepower coverage so readily.

If they keep bombing like this, the explosive yield of the bombs falling on Japanese soil would be enough to start a world war!

Tokyo Shrine of Spirits.

The area can be roughly divided into inner and outer courtyards, with the main buildings located in the inner courtyard. Now, over five hundred people have gathered in front of the worship hall, turning what was once a fairly spacious area into a sardine-can-like crammed space. Rainwater mixed with trampled mud created a chaotic mess.

Iwasaki's illusionary abilities continued to exert their power, like an invisible cage, constantly compressing the space in which these people perceived their activities, sowing seeds of suspicion and anger in their minds, and escalating trivial frictions into fierce conflicts.

"Murderer! Murderer!"

"Hand him over! Take him to the police station!"

Those "mercenaries" who were hired and dressed in cheap, old military uniforms were the first to start making a fuss.

They may not genuinely want to uphold justice; all they're thinking about is hush money. This is a huge incriminating evidence of public murder! Ten thousand each? No, three hundred thousand! That's not excessive at all!

Today's trip was incredibly profitable! The more I thought about it, the more excited I became, and my eyes, stirred by the group's emotions, unknowingly turned red.

"Calm down! Everyone calm down! There must be some misunderstanding here! Everyone, don't get agitated!" Commissioner Sato shouted hoarsely, spreading his arms wide in an attempt to maintain order.

The members of the Jingling Society instinctively huddled around their leader, forming a standoff with the increasingly restless old military uniforms.

One side was impeccably dressed and pampered; the other was crude, chaotic, and outnumbered. The conflict erupted almost instantly! Pushing, shoving, insults, and fists.

The pampered members of the Jingling Society were no match for these people, and were outnumbered. They were quickly separated and surrounded, with many being dragged to the ground and subjected to a barrage of punches and kicks.

Violence spread and escalated like a plague. On the slippery ground, wrestling figures rolled about, blood mingling with mud and water splattering. Clothing became the most conspicuous marker of friend or foe. Some people, enraged, grabbed stones and sticks from the sidelines.

A few people with slightly stronger willpower sensed the strange atmosphere and desperately shouted, "Stop!" and "Stop fighting!" But their voices were like a drop of water thrown into boiling water, instantly drowned out. This, in turn, attracted the attention of the opposing camp, and several stones came hurtling towards them!

Chaos, like a runaway horse, completely engulfed everyone present.

Just then, on the high eaves of the worship hall, thick black mist surged and gathered like a living thing, gradually condensing into the figure of a Ringwraith draped in black robes, exuding endless deathly silence and oppressive power.

The demonic mist that had been manipulating them finally materialized and descended.

With a slight thought, Kosuke Iwasaki quietly removed the phantom influence he had placed on the crowd. The mania, suspicion, and anger that had been constantly stirred and amplified by the invisible hand receded instantly like a tide.

However, it was too late.

Even if we remove the instigation of emotions, we cannot remove the blood that has already been spilled and the hatred that has been ignited.

After a brief moment of confusion, looking at his fallen comrades, his own blood-stained hands, and the equally disheveled but fierce-looking enemy opposite him, the remaining adrenaline and fear instantly replaced his rage, but the inertia of killing did not stop!

An old soldier in a military uniform, who had just smashed his opponent's forehead with a stone, watched his opponent collapse, then looked blankly at the blood-stained stone in his hand, and subconsciously raised it again.

The target was a member of the Jingling Society who was still in a daze!

"stop."

A cold, emotionless voice boomed directly into everyone's minds! It carried an unquestionable authority and absolute stillness.

It was the voice of the black-robed Ringwraith!

Immediately afterward, under the horrified gazes of the crowd, the old soldier in the uniform who had just raised the stone suddenly stiffened without warning!

A dark cloud descended from the sky, enveloping the figure. With twisting and writhing movements, the person emitted violent screams and groans, accompanied by the cracking of bones, as if suffering some kind of torture.

"Ahhh!! Help—"

Snapped!

Just seconds later, with a loud bang, the blood mist and black clouds exploded together, covering the surrounding crowd.

There was no one left on the spot, except for a few tattered rags and bits of flesh and blood stained with rain and dew.

Dead silence.

A bone-chilling coldness shot from the soles of everyone's feet to the top of their heads, more piercing than the icy rain, instantly making them incredibly clear-headed.

All remaining violence, wishful thinking, and greed were crushed to dust in that moment. What remained was only the most primal and pure fear.

thump.

Some people's legs buckled, and they knelt down directly in the muddy blood, their foreheads hitting the cold stone slabs heavily, tears streaming down their faces: "Lord Demon Mist! Spare us, spare us! We were forced! It's all their fault!" He pointed incoherently at the people of the Jingling Society.

"Run!" Overwhelmed by extreme fear, the other person screamed and turned to run wildly in the direction he was blindly following!

But in their view, everything was already sealed off, so there was no way out.

scoff!

The running figure had barely taken ten steps when its head was severed from its body as if grabbed by an invisible hand! Its lower body continued forward a short distance due to inertia before crashing into the muddy water, gushing out blood.

Running away means certain death.

Many more remained frozen in place, like quails frozen solid, their teeth chattering uncontrollably, their bodies trembling violently. Some even lost control of their bladders, warm liquid mixing with the icy rainwater and flowing down their trouser legs, completely unaware of it.

The president of the Jingling Society hid behind his few remaining confidants, his face ashen, trembling more violently than anyone else. His expensive suit was already covered in mud and bloodstains of unknown origin.

"I'll give you a chance to live."

The black-robed Ringwraith casually waved his wide sleeves.

Clang! Clang clang clang!

A series of dense, ear-piercing metallic clangs suddenly rang out.

Hundreds of Yasukuni swords, which had just been taken by Iwasaki and enshrined in the Shrine of Souls, and which were almost identical in shape and gleaming with a cold light, were thrown as if by an invisible giant hand, and accurately and fiercely stuck into the muddy ground of this Shura field in front of the worship hall.

The blade trembled, emitting a low buzzing sound, and its cold light was particularly dazzling in the dim sky and rain.

"pick it up."

The black-robed Ringwraith's voice was flat, yet carried an undeniable cruelty.

"Ten heads per person."

A few simple words struck everyone's mind like a thunderbolt.

Ten heads?

Does that mean killing ten people will save your life?

Note 1: Yasukuni Sword. A tachi (Japanese sword) forged by the "Japanese Sword Training Association" located within the Yasukuni Shrine to revive the Japanese sword and meet the needs of Japanese military officers for their swords. After Japan's surrender, many officers committed suicide with Yasukuni swords, believing that the spirit of the sword would transcend into the blade and complete the unfinished aggression of its masters.

Chapter 204: Not of This World (Happy Dragon Boat Festival)

Beneath the brief, deathly silence lay the violent trembling and desperate gazes of these people.

Their gazes darted frantically between the gleaming knives and their equally terrified "kindred spirits" beside them.