The Pacific Ocean: Approaching Tokyo Bay
Gin finally returned to Japan.
He was riding on a luxury cruise ship, standing on the observation deck. Having recovered from his injuries, he still brought his loyal old partner, Vodka, with him.
The whistling sea breeze could not extinguish the faint, burning heat in Gin's heart.
Taboo "Knowledge."
The Extraordinary Realm.
It is all true.
Since the notebook obtained from the haunted apartment was genuine, the source of it—Japan—had become the absolute focus of the Black Organization.
The Boss had personally observed the notebook, but many of the pages were deemed too dangerous for human eyes to look at directly. Therefore, experiments could only be conducted based on the existing, translatable Taboo "Knowledge."
For example: Ritual Five, designed to witness the "Truth of the World."
For example: The Blood Sacrifice to the Gods mentioned in the later chapters.
For example: Large-scale Sacrifices designed to enhance the physical essence and lifespan of mortals.
And what Gin wanted to experiment with in Japan was the Large-Scale Sacrifice.
After all, since the notebook had originated and circulated in Japan, if anything went wrong with a massive sacrifice, there would naturally be "tall people" (Extraordinary beings) to handle the fallout, right?
Maybe.
It doesn't matter if it can't be handled.
It's just a test.
Kenzo Masuyama (Code Name: Pisco) had prepared everything for them.
As a veteran of the Black Organization and an old friend of the Boss, Pisco was trustworthy. As the Chairman of a major Japanese car company and a big shot in the financial world, it was easy for him to set up a disposable front organization for Gin to use.
For example, directly creating a new "Cult" from scratch.
Anyway, many high-ranking elites in Japan who wanted to launder money or evade taxes created shell religions. Pisco wasn't the only one doing it.
"Let's go."
Gin tucked the transcribed manuscript of Forbidden Knowledge into his trench coat pocket.
It didn't have much content, but it contained many terrifying taboos that ordinary people couldn't even comprehend.
"Yes, Aniki!"
Vodka was very excited.
He also vaguely knew something about the supernatural now, so he felt he had finally entered the true core of the Organization. Especially since his "Eldest Brother's" attitude towards him was much better recently.
Staring at the neon lights of the Tokyo port, Gin felt an unexpected sensation.
He was nervous.
We are entering unknown territory...
Tokyo: The Outskirts
Tsk… this damn weather.
Kakeru Ryuen hid under the eaves of the Visual God Cult headquarters.
It had been a while since he became a chess piece of the Fujiwara family. And since he was a chess piece, he had to have the consciousness of one.
He received tasks from above. Minister Fujiwara wanted him to infiltrate and observe local religious forces.
So, Ryuen adopted a new identity: A devout believer of the Visual God Cult.
Staring at the sky, he noted it was overcast and drizzling.
Many elderly believers, wearing modified, comfortable kimonos, walked into the Cult's headquarters, talking and laughing warmly with each other.
Ryuen couldn't quite understand Minister Fujiwara's purpose in exploring these religious forces. There are countless minor religions in Japan. Most of them are unrecognized cults or tax shelters.
The Visual God Cult was one of these minor cults.
Having said that, as long as a cult does not cause public trouble, the government higher-ups usually don't send people to raid them.
Do they want to collect blackmail material on political opponents who launder money here?
Or use the cult bust as a political achievement before the election?
Ryuen pondered the deep meaning, but couldn't find an answer.
Currently, he was the youngest believer in the Visual God Cult. He was also the devout believer who had "donated" the most money (funds provided by the Fujiwara family).
Based on this, even though Ryuen had not been here for a long time, he still held a highly respected position in the Cult. He was considered a core member.
He waited, bored, for the Cult Leader to step onto the high platform.
The Leader was a little old man with white hair. It was said that he had no children and regarded the Visual God Cult—and its elderly congregation—as his spiritual family.
The arrival of a young man like Ryuen had made the Leader smile more often. The old man would talk to Ryuen almost every day, offering grandfatherly advice.
But… Ryuen couldn't help but frown today.
He noticed that the old Leader had been acting "perfunctory" toward the believers for several days in a row.
It seemed that he was busy with something secret. There was always a deep worry etched on his wrinkled face.
Does this old man not want to run the Cult anymore?
It made sense. The dozens of believers basically regarded this place as a neighborhood retirement center and entertainment hall. The money they donated combined was not as much as what Ryuen, a "high school dropout," had given them.
Since the Visual God Cult seems to be winding down, I should start thinking about my next move.
Should I infiltrate another cult, or report this dead-end to the Fujiwaras?
Hmm?
The boring, repetitive dogma propaganda finished. But the Leader did not leave the hall in a hurry this time.
Instead, he walked down the aisle and passed by Ryuen with a tired, sad look on his face.
When the old man walked away, Ryuen realized something had been slipped into his jacket.
He had an extra notebook in his pocket.
The old man's whisper echoed in Ryuen's ear:
"Go away, kid. This place is not suitable for young people like you anymore..."
"...…"
Ryuen did not look back at the old man hurriedly walking away.
Instead, he narrowed his eyes and looked around at the happy, oblivious elderly church members chatting in the hall.
Not suitable for young people like me?
Didn't you often tell me that the people here are my new family?
Old man… you are in trouble.
Ryuen was a ruthless delinquent. But his mind was still quite clear on one thing: he knew exactly who was good to him and who was bad to him.
As usual, he wandered around the station for a bit, pretending to be bored, and then yawned and walked out into the rain.
The rainy day made Ryuen decide to take a taxi back to the apartment the Fujiwara family had arranged for him.
It was an expensive luxury apartment. Ironically, the building was legally classified as "government subsidized housing for the poor," which resulted in a parking lot full of luxury sports cars owned by corrupt politicians.
Tsk…
He carried a bag of convenience store food upstairs and walked into his room slowly.
He didn't sit down at the desk by the window until he finished eating.
Then, he pulled out the Notebook.
It was a ledger the old man often used to record the daily affairs and thoughts regarding the "Big Family" of the Visual God Cult.
While there was still light in the rainy afternoon, Ryuen opened the first page.
> [Entry 1]
> The Visual God Cult has finally been established. Visualizing all kinds of life, and staying in our teachings.
> Life is not only about the results, but also about the scenery along the way. It is a good name. I think I can make some friends here who can help me grow old happily.
>
> [Entry 14]
> Grandma Inoue's grandson is missing. Poor old woman. I have no good solution for her. I can only comfort Grandma Inoue and pray that she can find peace tomorrow.
>
Trivial matters.
Ryuen just glanced through the pages, skimming the mundane lives of the elderly members, until he found his own name. He slowed down to read.
> [Entry 42]
> That kid is called Kakeru Ryuen, right? What a good kid. He pities us old guys and donated a lot of money. Hey, those old folks even want to adopt that kid as their grandson! I haven't given my blessing yet, though!
>
> [Entry 45]
> I used all the money donated by the child to buy some things that young people can use. I will give them to him after a while. How can we old guys steal the savings of a child?
>
Silence. A long pause.
Ryuen ground his thumb against the paper of the notebook, his mood completely unreadable.
He knew he was a scumbag.
He wasn't so arrogant to think he deserved someone to genuinely care about him.
But now, he realized that a group of old people had cared about him—a violent delinquent—in their own unique, gentle way.
They must have misunderstood something.
They thought the donation money was my life savings, not Fujiwara's dirty political funds.
I am still a scumbag.
> [Entry 50]
> I heard that the kid dropped out of school. How can this be? Ryuen is a good kid and should have a bright future! We old guys are all pooling our money, planning how to give Ryuen a big surprise. Hehe, the appearance of that kid makes us feel a lot younger.
>
> [Entry 53]
> A re-enrollment notice! It's not a prestigious school, but Ryuen will definitely be happy we paid his tuition...
>
Ryuen stared at the page. The old man had used his own money to buy Ryuen a second chance at an education.
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