Chapter 89. Eradicate All Evil Spirits, They Must Not Be Reborn (Bonus Chapter for the Patron Lord Hese Wings)

Ten minutes earlier.

Inside the old gymnasium storage.

A human skeleton model lay to one side. It was a strange entity known as the Starving Skeleton.

Legend held that such beings were formed from the resentful spirits of soldiers who had died on the battlefield, their lingering grudges fusing into one. They bore a distinctly monstrous nature. Over time, as the tale evolved, it came to be believed that any unclaimed spirit who died alone in the wild might transform into a Starving Skeleton.

The reason for its name, “Starving,” likely stemmed from the years of famine, when such apparitions appeared more frequently.

Because these spirits died violent and lonely deaths, they harbored malice toward the living and were thus classified as evil spirits.

There was a tale from the most tumultuous era of war: hundreds of resentful souls gathered to form a gigantic Starving Skeleton, towering over ten meters high, spreading terror until an exorcist intervened and finally destroyed it. This became its most iconic image.

But with the advance of society, the end of wars, diversification of medicine, and improved economic standards, it was now rare in this country to see corpses starved by the roadside or dead and undiscovered in the wild.

Thus, the Starving Skeleton had become a scarce anomaly.

This particular entity contained little resentment within—barely the weight of ten souls or so.

“Not enough.”

A deep voice echoed through the warehouse.

There was no one around, not even a wandering spirit in sight. The voice did not belong to the skeleton model. The answer, naturally, was clear.

The Starving Skeleton lifted its head and gazed up at the ceiling of the old gymnasium storage.

Eyes.

Eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes.

The ceiling was as black as the night sky, and densely packed from end to end with eyes.

These eyes were not motionless; they roved constantly, each one an independent entity, their shifting gaze enough to make anyone’s skin crawl and scalp prickle.

This was the old gymnasium storage, or rather, a Tsukumogami.

“For now, I can only wait, keep my head down,” the Tsukumogami thought to itself.

Built in the fourth year of the Taisho era, it had stood for a century. At first, amid the uncertainty of that age, it was just an ordinary storage room. Then, one day, some presence awakened it from its ignorance.

Thus, the old gymnasium storage became a Tsukumogami.

It had worked diligently ever since—hiding itself, keeping things tidy, absorbing the surrounding grudges, lowering its sense of presence so as not to be demolished during periodic campus renovations.

A Tsukumogami, after all, is born from being ignored and discarded—a forgotten object given strange life.

It had weathered much and survived to the present.

To dare to act in Nagoya, under the watchful eye of Atsuta Shrine, it had a certain confidence.

Regrettably, its earliest attempt at mischief failed.

Once a Tsukumogami has survived a hundred years, it becomes a true anomaly, no longer bound to its host object, able to roam and hunt at will.

The quickest way to accelerate this process? Create a legend.

That knowledge, too, came from the being that had awakened it.

So, once it had gathered enough power, the Tsukumogami began to influence humans: school ghost stories, urban legends, supernatural incidents—all were quite successful.

In a short time, it amassed a great deal of negative energy.

It used the grudges it had collected to create the Starving Skeleton.

The intention had been for the Starving Skeleton to feature in a tale of a ghost running through the school at midnight, escaping into the old gymnasium storage—a new legend in the making.

But just then, an extensive investigation into supernatural incidents throughout Nagoya was underway, led by Atsuta Shrine.

The Starving Skeleton had appeared only twice before an exorcist destroyed it.

Fortunately, because it inhabited a skeleton model and by dint of luck and the special nature imparted by the Tsukumogami, it wasn’t wholly eradicated.

The Tsukumogami reclaimed the Starving Skeleton, planning to lay low for a while.

Strange as it sounded, when it came to being unnoticeable, the Tsukumogami was unrivaled among all anomalies present—not targeting anyone in particular, just a simple fact.

As it pondered, the Tsukumogami sensed someone approaching.

A student? A teacher?

No, strangers... exorcists!?

No doubt about it—two among them radiated spiritual power, the unmistakable aura of exorcists.

How had they found this place?

...Was the Starving Skeleton’s location exposed?

The answer dawned on the Tsukumogami. It should not have hastily summoned the Starving Skeleton back. The exorcists must have followed its trail straight to this very spot!

A grave miscalculation.

Countless eyes spun in rapid thought, searching for a solution.

Soon, the Tsukumogami had a plan.

The exorcists were here for the Starving Skeleton—let it be the sacrifice.

I’m just an ordinary gymnasium storage room, what would I know about evil spirits?

Just play dead and ride it out.

Very prudent.

Having made up its mind, the Tsukumogami was about to direct the Starving Skeleton to its fate when something was thrown in through the window.

What was that?

Something odd had entered.

All the Tsukumogami’s eyes focused on the small black object.

Boom—

A grenade exploded.

Heat and flame instantly engulfed the entire warehouse.

The glass shattered in an instant, shards covering the floor.

Being a wooden structure, the fire spread rapidly.

What on earth was this approach?

I’m just an unremarkable gymnasium storage room—why treat me like this?

Don’t exorcists usually investigate first before taking action? What if there were hostages inside?

Flames consumed the old gymnasium storage, while grenade shrapnel imbued with spiritual power detonated inside the Tsukumogami.

Through the thick smoke, countless wisps of negative energy could be seen swirling.

Witnessing this, Qiao Qiao nodded.

“As I thought, my judgment was correct.”

At that moment, the Tsukumogami, struck directly, saw its not-yet-fully-formed consciousness collapse.

The grudges it had gathered scattered in all directions.

For a moment, it was a scene of frenzied demonic chaos.

But it was daytime.

Under the sunlight, the exposed vengeful spirits let out a shriek and instantly vanished like bubbles.

“What is that...”

Even someone as ordinary as Teacher Misawa could see the many spirits dispersing amid the powerful surge of resentment. Fear, sorrow, and despair welled up uncontrollably within her.

“Please stand back,” Ayano Fujiwara instructed, guiding Teacher Misawa away before producing her kagura suzu.

The clear ring of bells echoed, soothing Teacher Misawa’s agitated emotions.

At the same time, it hastened the dissolution of the vengeful spirits.

The warehouse blazed fiercely, the sweet chime of the kagura bells intertwining with the scene—a surreal blend of reality and fantasy.

In the sunlight, everything settled.

Qiao Qiao did not immediately cease his actions.

He sprayed spiritual water again, lit incense for pacifying spirits, and had Masato Yukidei and Ayano Fujiwara repeat the purification ritual three times before finally relaxing.

“It’s done,” he declared, stepping into the ruins of the old gymnasium storage.

Originally, Qiao Qiao had thought this was just an ordinary Tsukumogami, up to mischief with some trick it had picked up somewhere.

But judging by the number of vengeful spirits he’d just seen—if not a hundred, then at least fifty—it was far more than could have been gathered in recent times.

Which meant this Tsukumogami had awakened its consciousness long ago?

Yet the warehouse was only a little over a century old—was there some catalyst?

As he pondered, Qiao Qiao, picking through the ruins, suddenly stepped on something hard.

He crouched down and brushed away the ash.

There, he saw it.

It was a scale.