Login with GoogleChapter 62: Madness
Curse?
Her heart will cease its rhythmic throbbing?
"Will I perish in the next three hours?" Kichyō exclaimed, her voice trembling.
"The cessation of cardiac pulsation in humans, in a general sense, signifies death," the counterpart calmly replied.
"Absurd nonsense!" she retorted, "How could I possibly…"
"I merely stated the facts. If you're unwilling to listen, let it be as if I never spoke," the woman retracted her amber gaze, resuming her serene contemplation of the radiant moonlight descending in the darkness, seemingly indifferent to everything around her.
The girl's teeth gnashed momentarily in response to this indifferent attitude.
Soon, she released the clenched fist.
She cannot possibly be Nishino Junko, getting angry with her would be of no avail.
Kichyō bit her lip, returning home in search of answers, only to find herself seemingly falling into an even more immense labyrinth.
She thought it was a simple soul exchange, but it wasn't. So, where did Nishino Junko go?
What on earth happened to make oneself awaken in an unfamiliar body?
Unable to prevent the explosion of the tram…
There is also not a single clue found regarding the current identity.
She even knew that in another three hours, she would die due to cardiac arrest.
Even if she could rewind time, it would imply that she might be forever trapped within this day.
The girl's mood became particularly desolate, leaning against the edge of the window, wanting to sigh but unable to find a starting point. Her heart felt like something was missing, causing great sadness, yet tears couldn't escape. Only a bitter aftertaste remained, slowly contemplated between her lips and teeth.
She walked slowly to the dressing table, as if weary, wanting to sit down and rest for a while.
The sudden high-pitched scream interrupted her.
"Help me!"
"Fire!"
That was the maid's scream.
Kichyō abruptly stood up, rushed towards the door, but in the next moment, she paused, turned towards the window, and commanded the impassive woman on the bed, saying, "You stay inside the room, don't go anywhere!"
She jumped down from the window, swiftly circumvented the side, and approached the entrance to the courtyard, when suddenly another person appeared before her.
A maid in a state of panic accidentally collided with her, desperately evading something.
The woman named Ato and Kichyō had known each other for a full twelve years. She was on the verge of calling out the other's name, but before she could speak, she witnessed the splattering of blood.
A hatchet struck Ato's occiput from behind, the distinct sound of bones shattering, and the splattering of blood that landed on Kichyō's cheek.
The maid immediately lost her life, her lifeless eyes plunging to the ground, pressing against the young girl's half body.
Kichyō held Ato's blood-stained face in her hands, her pupils contracting as she gazed at the hatchet, her breath nearly ceasing.
She had never killed anyone.
She had also never witnessed anyone being brutally murdered before her eyes.
The most brutal scenes, at most, involved injuries and bleeding, all of which she could endure, but death was something she had never witnessed.
To die so easily.
She knew that people would die, she knew that there was continuous warfare between the alliance and theocratic state, she knew that the followers of the demonic deity in Goryeo had brought devastation upon the world, and she also knew that the Ten Thousand Demon Kingdom was still embroiled in internal strife, with death occurring daily.
But she had never witnessed it with her own eyes.
Having seen the most gruesome scenes, at most those of slaughtering chickens, ducks, and livestock, one might perceive them as cruel, but that is the extent of it… However, these are human beings – people who have been with her since childhood, living under the same roof.
"Ah, ah…" Unconsciously, she opened her mouth, and the splattered blood left crimson stains on her face, hair, and clothes.
Shadows engulfed this courtyard.
The corner was illuminated by a distant flare, and a hand reached over the bend, gripping the fire axe, pulling it out with a motion that evoked a reflexive twitch in the lifeless body, tinged with hues of red and white.
Kichyō lifted her gaze and saw a peculiarly painted abstract-style mask, along with a half-smiling visage.
"Hello, Nishino, I have finally found you."
A middle-aged devotee of an evil deity spoke, his unkempt beard and beer belly making him appear like an ordinary, slightly overweight middle-aged man. However, his entire being exuded a strong aura of menace and a scent of blood.
Behind him stood three identical figures, also hooligans, yet distinctly different from the typical breed of hooligan.
Not everyone among the gangster hooligans necessarily has blood on their hands, but these fanatical followers of the evil gods are unequivocally real terrorists who have initiated violent attacks.
The young girl stood in a daze, completely stunned by the scene unfolding before her eyes.
Immediately after, a sensation of pain surged, causing her to almost instantaneously lose consciousness, as if she had been struck by something, the pain merging with dizziness.
The sensation of pain emanated from her scalp, as someone was tugging at her hair and dragging her along.
She didn't lack the power to resist, rather, she had forgotten to employ it.
Before anger, what she primarily felt was fear.
In a state of lost fighting spirit, no matter how strong the power may be, it cannot be exerted.
Engaging in a close-range and gruesome struggle involves far greater difficulty compared to simply pulling a trigger.
It feels like a dreadful nightmare.
The sense of pain has been numbed by intense shock and fear.
How could she have anticipated that the cult of the evil deity would truly descend to such madness? They dared to pursue her, unabashedly, and ruthlessly ravage her home under the cover of night.
Her hair was torn off, stained with strands of blood.
The fanatical devotees encircled her, cursing and mocking something.
She couldn't bear to listen any further, her ears buzzing, tears streaming down her face, her eyes filled with burning flames and motionless bodies strewn on the ground.
In that instant, she recalled the words spoken to her by the young man not long ago.
Goodness is not a cheap virtue. The greater the goodness, the need for matching capabilities. Otherwise, it is mere chaos, and more likely to invite disaster. In my judgment, you lack such capability. Stay put and contemplate the existing predicament before you consider saving the world. You are not a heroic spirit, therefore you are not qualified.
Perhaps that is truly the case.
She wasn't ready yet, unable to even save herself in the face of this cruel reality, so how could she possibly save others?
In the air, a crow was circling, perched on the eaves, casting a cold gaze.
As if mocking her innocence.
…You should have known long ago what kind of outcome awaited you upon your return.
…The fanatical cultists of the deranged deity will not spare you.
The young girl lowered her head, tears streaming down her face filled with remorse.
Indeed, she should have known!
Buzz-!
Suddenly, a fanatic standing in close proximity felt a sharp pain in his right hand. As he lowered his head and glanced down, he discovered that his wrist had vanished without a trace, and his flowing blood dyed the grass crimson.
A gleaming ancient sword, dripping with blood, pierced into the courtyard soil, staining the white pebbles with a crimson hue.
The young girl forcefully removed the man's severed right hand from her hair, hurling it toward the front with a resounding crash, promptly stepping forward to pursue the blade.
The ancient sword, sharp as it was, sliced through flesh and bone, instantly fracturing the person's ribs and revealing the vivid organs and flesh within.
"You lunatics." Kichyō's voice was deep and resonant. "I swear, I will kill all of you, exterminate every last one, leaving none alive!"
The belated anger made her realize that she still held a sword in her hand.
The young girl brandished the sword towards the fanatical followers, not out of ignorance of fear, but rather immersed in madness.
…
After an unknown period of time, perhaps ten minutes or maybe half an hour, she leaned against the corridor, staggering and walking slowly.
She felled seven or eight individuals, causing severe injuries to herself as well. Her left eye became blind, three fingers on her right hand were missing, and her left leg had lost all sensation.
She pressed forward with great difficulty, not with the intention of furthering the battle, but rather with the desire to see clearly, to comprehend.
Nishino Junko was evading pursuit from someone. Who is she trying to hide from?
Who orchestrated the tram explosion?
Who on earth is the mastermind behind turning her home into a sea of blood?
Surely, He has come.
Right here!
Dragged along with blood stains, she pushed open the heavy door and looked up, only to see a familiar silhouette obscured by a blurred, blood-tinted gaze.
It is a crow.
The crow hovered and perched upon the shoulder of a man dressed in a grey robe, adorned with a round felt hat.
He took off his hat, gracefully stating, "Thank you for guiding the way, Miss Nishino."
Kichyō's pupils suddenly contracted, grasping a multitude of revelations in an instant. Her voice hoarse, she murmured, "…Onmyoji."
