Chapter 4: The Dawn of the Divine Era, the Surge of Demonic Forces

Before anyone else could speak, Master Dilu took the lead.

“The Age of Gods is upon us, and malevolent spirits surge forth. You all must prepare yourselves without delay.”

No one expected to be preempted in speaking; they were momentarily stunned. Director Hakuba remained composed and asked, “Master, what do you mean by that?”

Dilu intoned a Buddhist chant, then made a distant bow toward the sacred Kannon statue enshrined at Sensō-ji Temple, before explaining to the group.

“I was fortunate to receive guidance from the Bodhisattva Kannon, who revealed to me the great upheaval that lies ahead. The world will witness a return of gods and spirits, reverting to an ancient era where humans, deities, demons, and ghosts coexist—the so-called Age of Gods.”

The Bodhisattva Kannon, also known as the True Kannon, or Kannon of Compassion, is revered in various Buddhist traditions. The statue enshrined at Sensō-ji represents this very Bodhisattva.

Everyone in the conference room was a seasoned professional; even if they found Dilu’s claims hard to believe, they kept their skepticism to themselves. Director Hakuba inquired gravely, “Master Dilu, are you suggesting that these monstrous entities will appear with increasing frequency?”

Putting aside the talk of gods and spirits, modern society is grounded in science. Despite Dilu’s earlier demonstrations of seemingly supernatural abilities, most saw them as advanced human experiments. After all, aside from that eerie cat, Dilu only displayed extraordinary strength and speed—akin to a super soldier.

Buddha’s light? Without firsthand experience, it was impossible to imagine what that might feel like.

Dilu nodded slightly and continued, “I know you all bear the heavy responsibility of national security and would not easily trust such words. To impress upon you the gravity of my warning, I am willing to share the Bodhisattva’s revelation for your verification.”

That certainly caught their attention.

All present were pragmatic; to have reached their positions, none rose without motive. Dilu’s earlier words had left a faint impression, but not full conviction. Now, his offer of proof was welcomed.

“In the mountains of Mount Katsuragi in Nara Prefecture, a demon sealed within a shrine is on the verge of breaking free. When that happens, countless lives will be lost. I urge you to prepare accordingly.”

Frowns appeared. This was not the news they wanted. More pressing was the question of who exactly the Bodhisattva behind Dilu was—surely not the statue enshrined at Sensō-ji?

—

Chief of Criminal Affairs, Toshiro Odagiri, pressed further, “No offense, Master, but if you already know this, why don’t you go yourself? Why wait for us here at Sensō-ji?”

“I am unable to stray far from Sensō-ji for now. I must entrust you, government officials, to evacuate the nearby residents swiftly to prevent a tragedy.”

“Can we learn your Buddhist practices?”

“If you choose to take refuge in my Buddha and practice diligently, perseverance will surely bring success.”

They asked more critical questions, and Dilu answered each, but none were satisfied with his explanations regarding his powers.

The video ended, and the room replayed the conversation, still unsatisfied.

“Can we just capture it directly?” someone asked. Naturally, the Metropolitan Police had deployed more than a few officers; a tight net had been laid around Sensō-ji, ready to act on command.

“No. The entity is still quietly at Sensō-ji. What if a failed operation alerts it?”

“In modern times, concerns about it fleeing are minimal. Last time it bypassed surveillance, but this time we’re prepared; it mustn’t escape.”

Director Hakuba raised his eyes, surveying the noisy room, then cleared his throat, restoring silence.

“Regardless of who stands behind him, the mention of Nara Prefecture confirms something exists there. Otherwise, he would have no reason to tell us. I propose we assemble a team to gather intelligence in Nara, and decide further actions based on what we find. As you said, he is at Sensō-ji and cannot run.”

No one objected—not their task to go in person.

“Should we notify Osaka Prefecture to cooperate?” Odagiri asked.

“This is a small operation; no need to bother them,” Deputy Director Toshio Moroboshi replied.

The room tacitly agreed.

The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department and the Osaka Police Headquarters had long been at odds. Officially, the Metropolitan Police was Japan’s supreme police authority, but Osaka’s force had always stood as a rival.

Even when facing Director Hakuba, Osaka’s officers sometimes obeyed orders only half-heartedly.

They regarded each other as competitors. If they found anything valuable in Nara, they would quietly bring it back. If trouble arose, they could openly request aid from Osaka, since it was their turf and they wouldn’t refuse.

—

Yet, Director Hakuba’s main concern lay elsewhere.

The cult of the Bodhisattva Kannon had spread deep into Japan long ago, its origins tracing back to the neighboring great power. Yet legends offered little about this particular Bodhisattva. Though said to wield boundless power and countless demon-subduing feats, no detailed records remained.

What did it mean for this monk named Dilu to invoke the name of Kannon in directing the Metropolitan Police’s attention to Nara?

—

Bunkyo Ward, Sobu High School.

A tall, slender female teacher in a white coat gently massaged her temples, gazing at the boy across from her with exasperation.

“Minazuki, I know you’ve been through some rough experiences, but your school days should be a time of joy. Being alone won’t serve you well in society.”

Shizuka Hiratsuka truly felt troubled. She was at a loss with Minazuki Shirabe.

His formidable combat prowess was undeniable. She once witnessed this seemingly frail boy single-handedly knocking down five delinquent students who tried to bully him. When she approached, instead of confiding or complaining, he cruelly snapped each of their fingers before her eyes—leaving only the thumbs intact.

If it had ended there, she might have understood—it was self-defense. But then she heard about threats made to the bullies’ parents, and even a beating delivered to an unrelated man. That baffled her.

She racked her brains trying to reach him. Physical intimidation failed—he was stronger than her.

Minazuki’s expression was calm as he sipped the free drink from her hand. When the can was empty, he rose without hesitation and recited like reading a script:

“Thank you for your hospitality, Teacher Hiratsuka. I’ll get back to my homework now.”

“Hey!”

Watching Minazuki disappear toward the door in a blur, Hiratsuka’s face twisted into a mask of frustration. Especially when she spotted the empty can in the trash—damn it, he’d freeloaded again.

“Ah—! Minazuki!”

Having successfully escaped the office, Minazuki was indifferent to the distant shout behind him. He had better things to do than play cops and robbers with these students. He needed to think hard about how to persuade the Metropolitan Police to accept reality.