Night settled over Shibuya.
Along a quiet stretch of riverbank, the wind brushed past the water and stirred the drooping willow branches, carrying with it the damp chill of late autumn. The streets nearby had gone thin and empty. Only the occasional light from an apartnt window broke the dark, flickering like a tired eye that had not yet learned to sleep.
A holess man staggered along the embanknt with a cheap bottle of liquor in one hand.
His cotton coat was torn in several places, with clumps of stuffing poking out from the seams. He walked crookedly, muttering to himself, the sour stink of alcohol clinging to him like a second layer of clothing.
"Supernatural Revival, my ass..."
He hiccupped, lifted the bottle, and found only a mouthful left.
"I don't believe a word of it. Just garbage the rotten bastards up top made up... yeah... all so they can scare people and keep things for themselves."
He drank the last of the liquor and laughed bitterly.
"Yokai? Spirits? Onmyoji? Tch. All lies. Whole damn country's been fooled."
Years had already passed since the Supernatural Revival began.
Spiritual incidents had broken out one after another. Reports of Yokai, curses, and unexplained disasters had long since beco common on both mainstream dia and the internet. Even people who had never seen a supernatural event with their own eyes had at least heard enough to know the world was no longer what it used to be.
Yet even now, there were people who refused to believe.
So clung to denial because reality was too terrifying. Others were simply too broken by life to accept one more absurd cruelty. In cities like Tokyo and Kyoto—places that still looked prosperous and orderly on the surface—people like that hid in the cracks.
The man was one of them.
"Idiots," he muttered. "All of them."
He flung the empty bottle into the river.
It struck the water with a dull splash and drifted away into the dark.
"Going to sleep. Damn night's too quiet now. Not like the old days... lights everywhere, bars open late..."
He crawled beneath the bridge, curled up in his usual spot, pulled a few old newspapers over himself, and shut his eyes.
Then footsteps approached.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound was slow and wet.
At first, he thought nothing of it. The bridge hole was shelter. Shelter ant competition. So other vagrant must have found the place and co looking for sowhere to sleep.
"Hey," he grumbled without opening his eyes. "Soone's already here. Find another spot, unless you want trouble."
The footsteps stopped.
Sothing warm dripped onto his face.
The man frowned.
"Rain?"
Another drop landed near his mouth.
It was too thick to be water.
He opened his cloudy eyes.
The last trace of drunkenness vanished from him.
Above him, sothing looked down.
His lips trembled. His body locked up so completely that even fear seed to take a second to reach his limbs.
"G-Ghost..."
A scream tore through the night.
"Help ! Soone—!"
The cry broke apart into a wet, choking sound.
Then ca tearing.
Chewing.
The kind of noise that made the stomach twist before the mind understood why.
In nearby apartnts, a few residents heard the scream and froze in their beds. So pulled blankets over their heads and trembled in silence, praying the thing outside would not co knocking. Others, after several long seconds of panic, grabbed their phones with shaking hands and called the authorities.
Down in the river, bubbles rose to the surface.
One after another.
Five minutes later, the first to arrive was not the police.
Nor was it the Shibuya branch of the Onmyo Agency.
It was Kasugano Sora.
In her ghostly state, she passed straight through the underside of the bridge and drifted down into the shadowed space below. Her hand remained wrapped around the soul-hosting wood that anchored her existence. From a distance, she looked almost solid now. Only up close could one see the faint blur around her outline, the slight instability that marked her as sothing no longer fully alive.
She stopped in front of the scene.
"Still too late."
The holess man's head was gone.
His chest and abdon had been torn open, his internal organs devoured almost completely. Only his limbs remained relatively intact. Even then, the blood marks along the ground told the rest of the story. His hands and feet had scraped against the concrete in desperation, leaving sars and broken nails behind.
He had not died quickly.
Sora's expression tightened.
"Thank you, Mr. Kappa."
The river answered with several small bubbles.
Sothing beneath the water shifted, then sank away again.
Sora turned back to the body and began examining the scene with the thods Kotoko had taught her.
The result was disappointing.
"Sa as before," she murmured. "Too clean."
Clean, in this case, ant cruelly professional.
The wounds resembled a wild animal attack. There were no obvious spell traces, no lingering hair, no claw fragnt, no abnormal residue beyond the heavy Yin energy clinging to the corpse. Even Mr. Kappa, who had discovered the attack first, had failed to see the culprit's true form.
Sora checked again.
Then a third ti.
Only when the distant sound of sirens reached her ears did she finally straighten.
It was ti to leave.
If the authorities or the local Agency branch found her here, it would be troubleso. She was no longer human. Revealing herself would not necessarily bring disaster, but it would invite questions she had no desire to answer.
With one last look at the corpse, Sora turned and sank into the river's surface.
A mont later, in a park not far from the cri scene, Iwanaga Kotoko sat on a swing with a black briefcase resting across her lap.
The park was empty.
The streetlights gave off a tired yellow glow, too weak to push back the darkness gathering between the trees.
"Sister Kotoko."
Sora erged silently from the ground.
Kotoko turned at once. "You're back. Good."
She reached into her clothes, took out a talisman, and released Sora's sealed body from within it.
"Possess your body first."
"Okay."
For daily life, Sora still preferred to inhabit her original body. Moving as a ghost was convenient, but it never felt entirely comfortable. Too light. Too unmoored.
Once her soul settled into the body, color returned to her face.
Kotoko rose from the swing. "How was the investigation? Any new clues?"
Sora shook her head, her expression gloomy.
"Nothing. It was the sa as the previous scenes. No obvious abnormal traces. If not for the strong Yin energy left behind, it would be almost impossible to tell whether it was a monster or so wild beast that wandered into the city."
She paused.
"And Mr. Kappa didn't see its true appearance either."
Kotoko frowned.
"How cunning. I scattered so many yokai to watch the area, and we still failed to catch even its trail."
The frustration in her voice was quiet, but real.
"Sister Kotoko," Sora asked, "did things go smoothly on your side?"
They had split up after leaving the White Fox Office. Sora had gone with Kotoko's Yokai to investigate the man-eating cases. Kotoko, anwhile, had personally visited several supernatural investigation offices to gather files related to the grotesque tree spirit incident.
Kotoko lifted the black briefcase.
"Thanks to the Director, yes. Quite smoothly."
A faint smile appeared on her face.
"And I found sothing very secret."
Had this been before, even using Gin's na would not have made the process easy. Borrowing files from other offices would have required several days of negotiation, formal requests, polite refusals, and irritating favors.
Tonight, however, every office had been astonishingly cooperative.
Almost too cooperative.
Because what had happened at the Onmyo Agency during the day had already spread throughout Tokyo.
Every supernatural investigation office in the city had heard the news.
The Director of the White Fox Office, White Fox Gin Tsumugi, had successfully ford his Onmyodo Frawork.
He was only a single step away from becoming a National-level onmyoji.
And the Frawork he had created was called Myriad Laws.
To learn myriad laws.
To govern myriad paths.
If the story had not co from people who had witnessed it with their own eyes, few would have believed such an absurd Frawork could exist. No one knew how Gin had defined his personal Onmyodo to produce sothing that monstrous.
In the eyes of many onmyoji, even if Gin had not officially entered the National level, his weight was no lighter than a National-level onmyoji already.
In so ways, it might be heavier.
After all, how old was he?
Aside from Dairenji Suzuka, nearly all National-level onmyoji were well over thirty. And Suzuka's situation was special enough that anyone inford understood not to treat her as a normal comparison.
Naturally, no investigation office wanted to offend the White Fox Office over a pile of files they themselves could not fully use.
"Let's go," Kotoko said. "Back to the office."
The two of them left the park and walked along the quiet street, one after the other.
The streetlights flickered overhead.
Before the Supernatural Revival, two beautiful young girls walking alone through an empty street at this hour might have attracted drunkards, delinquents, or n with more confidence than brains.
But this was no longer that era.
These days, no ordinary thug dared wander aimlessly through Tokyo after midnight. And to most people, two girls walking calmly through a deserted street at night was not tempting.
It was suspicious.
As the White Fox Office drew closer, Sora's steps gradually slowed.
A question had been sitting in her chest since afternoon. She had hesitated over it for hours, unsure whether she should bring it up.
Kotoko noticed before long.
"What is it?"
Sora looked at her, then lowered her voice.
"Sister Kotoko... about Miss Kaguya from before. Did you forget?"
"Forget?"
Kotoko stopped walking.
Ahead of them, the signboard of the White Fox Office could already be seen in the distance.
"How could I forget?"
Her gaze rested on the sign, and the worry in her eyes was difficult to hide.
"The supernatural incident Shinomiya Kaguya wants to commission us for is connected to the legendary Great Yokai Shuten-dōji. How could I forget sothing like that?"
Sora fell silent.
Kotoko continued, "You should understand too, Sora. A Great Yokai on that level is beyond what the White Fox Office can handle right now. I know the Director is strong. Very strong. But Shuten-dōji is not an ordinary Great Yokai. There should still be a considerable gap."
Sora's eyes moved slightly.
"So Sister Kotoko kept these two commissions... to make the Director too busy to deal with Miss Kaguya?"
The deduction was not difficult.
Neither the grotesque tree spirit incident nor the man-eating Yokai incident was a simple case that could be solved by waiting for the culprit to show up. Even Sora, still new to this line of work, understood that investigating either one thoroughly would consu a great deal of ti and energy.
Tonight was proof enough.
They had both gone out late at night to investigate, and while Kotoko had gained sothing, Sora had returned almost empty-handed.
Kotoko did not deny it.
"I did think that," she admitted. "But the final decision is still the Director's."
She sighed.
"From our conversation during the day, I can tell that if he truly wants to accept Shinomiya Kaguya's commission, I won't be able to stop him."
The Director always had his own plans.
That was the troubleso part.
Sotis his decisions looked reckless to Kotoko. The Taizan Fukun Ritual, for example—aside from angering the Tsuchimikado family and drawing the Onmyo Agency's dissatisfaction, she could not see what benefit had been worth the risk.
And yet, Gin never seed to act without purpose.
That made it even harder to argue with him.
"We'll talk about it later," Kotoko said at last.
Then she looked at Sora.
"More importantly, let's talk about you."
"?"
Sora blinked and pointed at herself.
"Yes, you." Kotoko's tone softened slightly. "Your spiritual body is stabilizing soon. Your cousin, Kurazaki Fuko, called earlier. She wants you to return to Kyoto."
Sora stopped walking.
For a mont, she said nothing.
The night wind passed between them.
Kotoko did not rush her.
This decision, in a sense, would determine Sora's future path. Whether she returned to her remaining family, stayed with the White Fox Office, or tried to find so middle ground—none of those choices were light.
After a long silence, Sora raised her head.
There was hesitation in her eyes.
But beneath it, there was also resolve.
"I'll go back to Kyoto," she said. "But only for a visit."
Her gaze shifted toward the White Fox Office sign ahead.
"I'm an outlier now. I'm no longer human."
Her voice was quiet, but not fragile.
"Maybe this place is the only harbor where I can still belong."
Kotoko looked at her for a mont.
"Then I'll tell the Director when the ti cos."
"Thank you, Sister Kotoko."
Sora's gratitude was sincere.
Kotoko waved it off. "It's nothing. Keeping you here is much better than letting so flashy, seductive type settle in instead... especially since the two of us are about the sa..."
Her voice faded toward the end.
Her gaze slipped briefly toward Sora's chest.
Even if Sora shared the sa "attributes" as her, that was still much better than facing a high-threat rival like Ogiso Setsuna. At the very least, Sora was part of her camp.
Besides, as Gin's strength continued to rise, recruiting new mbers for the White Fox Office was inevitable.
This was called preparing for the future.
Strategic deploynt.
A very noble cause.
"Sister Kotoko?" Sora tilted her head. "What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Kotoko imdiately looked away.
"Let's hurry back. We shouldn't keep the Director waiting."
By the ti they returned to the White Fox Office, it was already two in the morning.
As a ghost, Sora did not feel tired even while possessing her body. Kotoko, on the other hand, was visibly losing her battle against sleep. She yawned several tis on the way up and had already decided not to go ho tonight. She would make do in the office.
But the mont she pushed open the office door, her exhaustion vanished.
Her brows tightened.
Alertness flashed through her eyes.
"Who are you?"
Sora, standing behind her, looked inside.
A young man stood beside the desk.
At first glance, he was unfamiliar.
At second glance, strangely familiar.
He was beautiful.
Using that word for a man might have been rude, but Sora could not find a more accurate one.
His mist-blue eyes were clear and luminous. His lips had the soft elegance of cherry blossoms. His features leaned toward a delicate, almost foreign refinent, but there was still sothing unmistakably masculine beneath that beauty, preventing it from becoming fragile.
His silver hair fell to his shoulders like silk, tied back neatly with a red cord. His skin was pale and fine as porcelain, the sort that could make won feel personally wronged by nature. Standing there in the quiet office, he carried an air of tranquility and grace, like a beautiful youth from so old myth who had stepped out from moonlight and water.
Kotoko's expression grew sharper.
"Answer . Who are you?"
The young man looked at her.
Then his lips curved into a helpless smile.
The change this ti really had been too large.
He had been so focused on increasing his strength that he had not paid enough attention to the changes in his appearance. Only after the advancent was complete had he realized how much his body had shifted.
Behind Kotoko, Sora studied him for a mont.
A strange look appeared on her face.
Then she hesitated and said, "Director?"
Kotoko froze.
Sora continued, uncertain but increasingly convinced.
"Director Gin Tsumugi?"
Kotoko's eyes widened.
She looked at the beautiful young man.
Then back at Sora.
Then at the young man again.
"Sora," she said slowly, "are you telling this person is the Director?"
Her voice rose.
"How is that possible?"
Sora nodded.
"Sister Kotoko, you know the Director signed a shikigami contract with to nourish my soul. A shikigami can't mistake their master."
Kotoko still looked deeply suspicious.
"Is that true?"
"Don't just stand in the doorway," the young man said, his tone helplessly familiar. "My strength increased, and it caused a few changes in my appearance. There's no need to be that alard."
The voice settled it.
Kotoko stared at him.
This man—this absurdly beautiful, street-stopping, disaster-grade face—was indeed the Director of the White Fox Office.
White Fox Gin Tsumugi.
"Director," Kotoko said after several seconds, "this is not 'a few changes.' Even plastic surgery doesn't work this hard."
She and Sora stepped into the office.
The closer they got, the more obvious the transformation beca.
His previous handsoness had sharpened and deepened into sothing far more dangerous. The softness of his features was balanced by a calm masculine air, and the result was not feminine, but refined to an almost unfair degree.
Even without considering his face, his aura alone was enough to draw the eye.
With everything combined, it was practically a specialized poison aid at won.
Kotoko stared for a mont too long.
"Director, if you walk outside in broad daylight like this, I guarantee you'll cause a crowd."
"I don't know about a crowd," Gin said, glancing down at her, "but could you move away first?"
At so point, Kotoko had drifted close enough that she was nearly pressed against him, staring like a fox that had found the world's finest fried tofu.
She blinked.
Then she reluctantly took a step back.
"My mistake. My mistake." Her tone was not repentant at all. "It's mainly because the Director is far too charming now."
Gin rolled his eyes.
As if he had chosen this.
When the role-playing system advanced to the young adulthood stage, the fox bloodline in his body had quietly awakened further as well. His appearance had changed along with it. The result was... this.
"Wait," Kotoko said abruptly.
Her sleepiness had now been replaced entirely by shock.
"Director, you just said your strength increased?"
Gin nodded calmly.
"That's right. I have officially entered the National-level onmyoji sequence."
The room went silent.
Then Kotoko and Sora spoke almost at the sa ti.
"National level?"
"So fast?"
Both of them understood what those words ant.
A National-level onmyoji stood at the peak of the modern Onmyodo world. Every one of them was a pillar, a strategic force, an existence whose na alone could change the attitude of supernatural organizations.
They had both known this day would co sooner or later.
But not tonight.
The news of Gin forming his Onmyodo Frawork had only spread during the day.
And before the day was even over, he had broken through again.
The speed was so unreasonable that even Kotoko, who had seen plenty of strange things, felt as though reality had skipped a few pages.
"Don't spread this for now," Gin said.
Kotoko and Sora both beca serious.
"We understand."
This was no small matter.
The sudden change in strength, the transformation in appearance—both might involve the Director's deeper secrets. Since he had not explained, they would not ask.
As long as the Director was still the Director, that was enough.
Gin sat down in his office chair and lifted a hand to smooth back his now much longer hair. The motion looked natural, but his expression made it clear he was still not used to it.
"Tell what you gained tonight."
Sora stepped forward first and handed over the information she had gathered.
"Director, I'm sorry. My side didn't produce much."
Gin took the notes and quickly read through them.
As expected, the details were nearly identical to the earlier reports. Another victim. The sa clean scene. The sa lack of direct traces.
"No need to apologize," he said. "This thing is cautious. We already knew that."
Then Kotoko placed the black briefcase on the desk.
"My side had a much more significant discovery."
She did not imdiately take out docunts.
Instead, she opened the case and carefully removed an object that made Gin's eyes sharpen the mont he saw it.
It was a hairpin.
An old hairpin.
One that belonged to a thousand years ago.
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
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