Chapter 179: The Curse of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva (6)

The Ksitigarbha split in half.

The body of the Ksitigarbha statue, dirty with bird droppings and all sorts of filth.

The clean cross-section contrasting with the dirty body.

The Ksitigarbha, cut in two with excellent skill, was exactly as the instructor had imagined.

But the problem was its surroundings.

"This is."

In the instructor's eyes, countless faces of Ksitigarbha were visible.

Innumerable.

No, faces of Ksitigarbha matching exactly the number of trees.

"What on earth is this."

Without exception, every tree growing densely around the Ksitigarbha had a Ksitigarbha face carved into it. The pitch-black Ksitigarbha faces, as if stamped with black ashes mixed with water, were incredibly bizarre.

Dying trees, trees withering from lack of proper sunlight, trees forming incredibly bizarre shapes due to lack of nutrients and harsh living conditions, trees that had died and fallen to the ground or were barely holding their place.

All those trees had faces carved into them.

Faces with tightly closed mouths, closed eyes, seemingly benevolent.

But faces with incredibly bizarre appearances as if printed with intaglio engraving.

Black faces with white eyelids, white lips, white noses.

The instructor's expression couldn't help but freeze upon seeing the densely carved faces centered around the broken Ksitigarbha statue. Not only that, but his body even trembled, though this trembling was far from fear.

Contempt.

Anger.

Not fear going in a cold direction, but hot emotions surging upwards.

The instructor's hands trembled as he spoke:

"Which bastard... dares to play such a prank-----!!!"

The roar that finally burst out after trying to suppress it shook the entire mountain.

Flutter.

Birds sitting in the trees flew away to the sky, spreading their wings in surprise, and even mountain animals that had been dozing off scattered in all directions, startled as they pushed through the bushes. Moreover, whether due to the voice or by coincidence, the wind blew, making even the leaves on the trees sway.

"How dare they play such a childish prank on our Shigen-ryu-!"

The instructor was enraged.

Bang!

He didn't hold back his anger and struck a tree with his hand wrapped in qi, and the tree that had been living vibrantly became a tree that 'had lived'.

The trunk, unable to withstand the impact, broke, scattering fragments in all directions, and the trunk, more than half deeply gouged, began to tilt and then lay on the ground with a cracking sound.

And with it, the Ksitigarbha face stamped on the tree was also buried in the ground.

"This is a challenge! A challenge to our Shigen-ryu!"

He shouted with a voice that even contained killing intent.

Because he thought what he was seeing now had gone beyond the realm of a simple prank.

It might seem natural in a way.

Making one martial artist scared and turning him into a 'coward', which Shigen-ryu despised most.

Trespassing on private property used as a training ground by 'Shigen-ryu'.

Not stopping there, but even going out at night to scare them personally.

And on top of that, stamping Ksitigarbha faces everywhere as if boasting about the prank to the whole neighborhood, even provoking them.

This had gone beyond the realm of a simple prank, no different from scribbling on the dojo's signboard or spraying paint and running away.

Smearing!

Smearing the reputation of Shigen-ryu!

How dare they smear the face of a school that prides itself on being more militant and practical than any other!

The instructor gritted his teeth and muttered:

"Alright. You thought we couldn't make a big deal out of this because of our image, even if we were pranked?"

Image was very important in the world of martial artists.

It was completely different from the world of magicians where meritocracy prevailed with only achievements and papers mattering, or the world of summoners which was no different from a social gathering where they showed off their summons and helped each other, or the world of sorcerers where individualism prevailed and no one touched each other as long as there weren't people trying to scam with sorcery.

Image.

More precisely, the image of 'looking strong' could be said to be the beginning and end of a martial artist.

In vulgar terms, the world of martial artists lived and died by their image.

If they dealt with fist techniques, they boasted of being able to face tanks barehanded.

If they dealt with swords, they raised their voices saying they could cut even mountains with a single stroke.

If they dealt with qi techniques, they showed off their strength saying they could destroy even cliffs with one qi attack.

If they dealt with spears, they shouted that they could pierce anything.

The pride of martial artists as ability users was different from other ability users.

It was different from magicians who gathered together, exchanged techniques, and developed as an army.

It was different from sorcerers who offered sacrifices, performed bizarre rituals, and used strange dark arts while chipping away at their own bodies.

It wasn't about entrusting their lives to strange animals or whatever from who knows where.

Solely by themselves.

Not by chipping away at their bodies, but by training and moving forward.

Taking responsibility for their own lives with only their own strength.

This could be said to be the pride of martial artists, the foundation of martial artists.

That's why martial artists hated having their faces smeared to a terrible degree.

Of course, they naturally acknowledged differences in martial arts levels or combat techniques.

If they won, they used that experience as an opportunity for development.

If they lost, they regretted their shortcomings and devoted themselves to training to aim higher.

They did their best in matches but didn't obsess over them, and while they felt regret about the results, they didn't get caught up in them.

But they reacted very sensitively to other things.

Things like attacks using means outside of martial arts.

And now, in the instructor's eyes, those numerous Ksitigarbha faces looked like acts that 'dirtied the face of martial artists'.

"How dare they mock our Shigen-ryu as cowards."

Creak.

To the instructor, the Ksitigarbha faces seemed to be mocking him.

The kind and compassionate smile full of tolerance looked like a terribly distorted sneer, and the sound of the wind flowing between them sounded like the mocking laughter of an unknown culprit.

A group of martial artists scared by mere ghost stories.

A school full of 'cowards who can't even act like men'.

Incompetents who couldn't notice anything despite such an obvious visit.

The instructor returned to the training ground, emitting an ominous aura.

Then he barged into the quarters of the martial artist he had beaten up earlier.

Bang!

The instructor opened the door violently as if it might break and shouted at the martial artist:

"You! Tell me the description of that college student you saw yesterday!"

He grabbed the collar of the martial artist who was making a dazed expression and dragged him away.

"No, don't tell me. You! I'm going to bring someone who's good at drawing, so have him draw it. Make a composite sketch. Got it?!"

"Yes!"

The martial artist couldn't understand what was going on right now.

But as he had consistently learned from before, he just shouted 'Yes!' loudly, and had no choice but to do as he was told with an empty head.

"Once we catch whoever it is, I'll make sure they have a terrible day."

*                     *                     *

"Hmm. This is unclear."

"What?"

Contrary to the instructor's determination, things didn't progress smoothly.

All sorts of experts were brought in to find traces of the culprit, but they all answered that they didn't know.

"What do you mean! Do you think I brought you here to hear such words?!"

The instructor burst out in anger at the self-proclaimed experts looking at him as if troubled.

A security expert from the Japanese Police's Special Assault Team (SAT).

A magician working as a profiler and magic trace analysis expert.

A famous detective known for his skill in finding and pursuing human traces.

A monk brought from a nearby Jodo Shinshu sect temple.

It was a combination that shouldn't have difficulty finding human traces, no matter who looked at it.

But...

"We don't want to say this either. But since you called us based on our reputation and track record, we thought we should tell the truth."

"We are people who have made big names for ourselves throughout Japan. Of course, we know the weight of that name, and we think we should tell the truth to our clients as much as that name weighs. That's professionalism."

"That's right. And speaking with our professional spirit and honor on the line, it's difficult to find traces of the 'culprit' you mentioned, instructor."

The people who came as experts were all saying they couldn't find traces of the 'culprit'.

"First of all, I can't find any magic traces. I can assert that at least no abilities using magic or artifacts operating with magic were used."

"I've heard there are ways to erase magic traces. Isn't it that?"

"Of course, I considered that too. But it's impossible to erase magic traces in a short time. No matter how well you erase them, minute traces will remain. To erase even those traces, a considerable amount of time is necessary. According to what you said, this happened between night and dawn, but with that time... it's impossible. Erasing magic traces is not possible."

"Is it really impossible?"

"Of course, it's not 0%. A country or large corporation might have hidden such technology, or special forces or spies might have such technology. But at least within the knowledge I have... there's no such method. It's difficult to erase magic traces in this short time."

The magician said he couldn't find any magic traces.

"I did find some traces. But I couldn't find any traces of the 'college student' you mentioned."

"That's impossible. Are you saying he saw an illusion?"

"That possibility... can't be denied."

"What!"

"It's just talk about possibilities. For now, I can only see traces made by people belonging to Shigen-ryu..."

The security expert said he couldn't find traces of anyone other than the martial artists.

Moreover, the other two were similar.

"I've looked around here and there, but this doesn't seem to be the work of a person. First, as you heard earlier, I couldn't find traces of anyone else, and I also looked at the Ksitigarbha faces carved on the trees, but no matter how I look at it, it doesn't seem like human hands touched them?"

"So are you saying a ghost did it?"

"To be honest, I'd like to lean towards that. It's too bizarre to have used a trick... Honestly, it doesn't look like the work of a person."

"What's bizarre about it?"

"This black stuff, it's not paint."

"Not paint?"

"Yes. This isn't paint, it's mold. Mold."

"M-mold?"

"Moreover. I looked carefully to see if any chemicals, sorcery, or magic might have been involved, but there's nothing like that either. This mold even spread from the roots of the trees into the shape of faces. Tsk. No matter how I think about it, this isn't the work of a person."

The detective said this with a puzzled expression.

"Hmm. I've examined it, but it doesn't seem to be sorcery either. This humble monk may not be very old, but I pride myself on having considerable knowledge, and I've never heard of or seen such sorcery."

"Not sorcery?"

"All the sorcery and onmyodo throughout Japan have their own characteristics and roots. Even if something appears completely new, it has branched out and blossomed from one root, so if you know the root, you can easily recognize it. But this is so alien to what I know, I can't help but think it's not sorcery."

The monk even asserted that this wasn't sorcery.

But if so, it really meant the culprit was a ghost.

But if a ghost was the culprit, it couldn't have avoided being caught by security devices.

The instructor couldn't understand the current situation at all.

"It wasn't caught by security devices, so it's not an evil spirit or demon. Then isn't it only possible to think it's sorcery?"

"Ho ho ho. I'll say it again, it's not sorcery. How could there be sorcery in all of Japan that has deviated from its roots?"

"Then isn't it foreign sorcery?"

"Ho ho ho. How could the subjects of our great Japan do something that only un-Japanese people would do? You haven't forgotten that Japanese sorcery is strongly controlled by onmyoji, temples, and the government, have you?"

"What about the possibility of a foreign sorcerer?"

"Ho ho ho ho. Are you serious?"

The monk burst into laughter at the instructor who was persistently questioning.

"All of Japan's territory, the whole country is catching foreign sorcerers. As fine as heaven's net, as thorough as heaven's eyes. So how could a foreign sorcerer be roaming freely throughout the country?"