CHAPTER 44: CHAPTER 5

Shunji High.

Beneath the bustling school building, there is a secret underground chamber that only select few can enter and knew of.

The underground chamber beneath was vast, ancient, and suffocatingly dark, the kind of place that swallowed all traces of warmth and sanity.

Dim candlelight flickered across cracked stone walls covered in grotesque murals—depictions of rituals and sacrifices so old that even time seemed to avoid remembering them.

The smell of burnt incense mixed with something metallic and rotten hung in the air, clinging to the skin like a curse.

In the middle of the chamber, a group of figures clad in black robes knelt in perfect formation, their foreheads pressed to the cold ground, bodies trembling as they chanted in unison.

The sound was a discordant hymn, like distorted prayer incomprehensible for human mind and uttered in a tongue no known to man.

The cadence rose and fell in hypnotic waves, a sound that could scrape the edges of one’s mind if listened to for too long.

At the far end of the hall sat a man upon a crude stone throne adorned with candles and bones.

Behind him stood a small altar, carved from obsidian, where a single silver chalice rested.

Strange symbols were painted in red around it, symbols that almost seemed to breathe.

The man on the throne leaned forward slightly, his heavy face caught in the wavering candlelight.

Aguri Basuta.

The Vice Principal of Shunji High School.

To the world above, he was an ordinary man in his fifties—balding, overweight, with a voice that dripped false kindness.

But here, below the surface, he was something else entirely.

His greasy skin glistened with sweat, his beady eyes glowed with sickly devotion, and his lips twisted into the kind of smile only found on those who had long since forgotten morality.

In here, hidden in the dark, he was the leader of this hidden congregation, a cult that he founded and had taken root beneath the school grounds decades ago.

He listened to the chants with an expression of ecstasy, whispering along with them as if savoring each syllable.

Behind his throne, the faint sound of something wet and organic could be heard, and hidden in the darkness, there seems to be something breathing, and possibly even watching.

The air pulsed faintly in rhythm with the chanting, as though the underground space itself were alive and listening.

Just then, the sound of footsteps came.

It was slow and deliberate, each steps echoing through the hall.

The chanting faltered, the robed followers lowering their voices until only silence remained.

All eyes turned to the entrance as a tall figure cloaked in black entered the chamber.

His steps were unhurried, seemingly reeking of confidence, and his face completely hidden by the hood that cast deep shadows over his features.

When he reached the foot of the throne, he dropped to one knee, bowing deeply in reverence.

Basuta’s oily lips curled upward. His voice was smooth but carried a weight of command.

"Have you found the next candidate?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm. "The current miko has served her purpose. She is no longer fit to offer herself to the god."

Basuta thought of their current miko. She was now just a broken woman who couldn’t even respond to anything.

It was a pity too, since she was one of his favourites.

He slightly regrets overdosing her with drugs, causing her to slowly lose her mind and became a broken shell.

And like always, he had sold that broken miko to a friend of his who run a brothel in the red light district.

This has always been his business.

The cloaked man bowed his head lower, his voice steady but submissive. "Yes, Your Holiness Basuta. I have located a new vessel worthy of becoming the next miko."

He reached into his cloak and retrieved a smartphone, its faint glow cutting through the gloom.

With practiced ease, he opened a folder and presented the screen.

The flickering light illuminated Basuta’s round face, his eyes narrowing in predatory anticipation.

On the screen were photos, a clear, candid shots of a young woman. Her short pink hair and bright golden eyes were unmistakable for anyone who knew her.

It was Tachibana Rei.

Basuta’s breath grew heavy. He leaned forward, licking his cracked lips as if tasting something exquisite.

"Excellent..." he murmured, his tone trembling with hunger. "She is perfect. She is looks so pure, fragile, and beautifully unaware. Our god will be most pleased. I am sure that with her help, our sins will be forgiven."

The robed followers behind him began murmuring again, the same strange chant rolling like a low tide through the hall.

Basuta raised one hand and the chanting stopped instantly.

He stared down at the kneeling man. "You have done well. Your loyalty and diligence will not go unrewarded. I shall offer a prayer for your name during the next ritual. Perhaps... our god will bless you with his touch."

The cloaked man lowered his head even further, his voice cracking with gratitude.

"Y-yes, Your Holiness. I am honored beyond words." He kowtowed deeply, pressing his forehead to the floor.

Then, he raised his head, mouth opening and closing as if wanting to say something, but stopped himself.

Basuta noticed his hesitation immediately and his sharp, cruel eyes glimmered in the candlelight.

"You wish to speak," he said softly. It wasn’t a question. "Go on. Speak."

The cloaked man tensed, his hands trembling slightly. "There is... another, your holiness. Another girl who I believe, she, too, possesses the qualities required of a miko. Her body, her energy, she radiates an aura of vitality unlike any I have seen before."

The vice principal leaned back in his throne, curiosity piqued. His eyes gleaming in in interest like that of a beast scenting a new prey. "Show me."

The man obeyed. He swiped across the screen, opening another set of photos, then presented the device once again.

Basuta’s pupils dilated as the image came into view.

The girl in the picture was tall, slender, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Her long blonde hair caught the light even through the low resolution of the photo, and her crimson eyes seemed to burn through the screen.

If Seijirou or any of his friends saw the photo, they would’ve already unleashed hell upon them.

Because the one shown in the photo was none other than their friend, Kurokawa Suzune.

For a moment, there was silence, and the man began to tremble, fearing that he might’ve upset the vice principal with his words.

When he was about to apologise, Basuta suddenly stood up.

The throne creaked under his weight, and the followers dared not look up as the sound of his laughter echoed throughout the hall.

It was a low, rasping, vile laugh, the kind that made the flames tremble.

"Hahaha! Marvelous! Haha!" he hissed between fits of laughter. "Truly marvelous. You’ve outdone yourself this time."

He snatched the phone from the man’s hands and stared at the image like a starving dog faced with a feast.

His expression twisted into one of wild elation and lust.

"Two such fine vessels, both in the same generation...!" His laughter rose in pitch, manic and distorted. "The gods must truly favor us!"

He turned toward the altar, spreading his arms as though embracing the darkness itself. "Our offering shall be doubled! Two maidens of flesh and purity! The god will descend with greater strength than ever before! Rejoice! Your sins will be greatly forgiven!"

The congregation erupted into chanting once more, louder, faster, their voices trembling with madness.

The walls themselves seemed to pulse to the rhythm, the murals appearing to writhe as if alive.

The air grew heavy and oppressive, as if something unexplainable just moved.

Basuta raised the phone one last time, his greasy thumb caressing the image of Suzune’s face.

"We shall begin the preparations at once," he whispered, almost lovingly. "The next Blooming shall be glorious."

He licked his lips, eyes wide with deranged devotion. "Yes... Kurokawa Suzune and Tachibana Rei... our twin mikos of sin and purity."

"But...your holiness...." The man suddenly spoke up, as Basuta turned towards him, "That woman...is related to Kageyama Seijirou."

Basuta paused. Kageyama Seijirou, the undisputed king of Shunji High. Not only was he skilled in fighting, but his parents were influential as well.

If it was in the past, before meeting his god, Basuta would surely dare not confront him, but now?

"So what?" Basuta faced his subordinates and believers, and under their watchful eyes, his body began to convulsed and grow.

Then, a dark aura radiated from his body which has now doubled in size, and his head became something aking to a black mass of jellyfish with countless eyes and mouths, and his skin also turned gray.

"Do you think a mere mortal can defeat me!?"

The man and the rest of the believers slammed their forehead down to the floor, kneeling until their forehead bled as they praise:

"His Holiness is mighty!"

Basuta snorted and changed back to his human form, turning around.

And as he turned to the altar behind him, the shadows cast by the candlelight twisted unnaturally.

For an instant, something vast and formless stirred within them—a silhouette that wasn’t quite human, with eyes that opened where no eyes should be.

The chanting reached its peak, and the walls began to sweat blood.

The god, it seemed, was listening.