Mob Yandere

Chapter 220

Chapter 220The charity dispensed to the poor at the Hyakuyain Family's noble residence was grand, smooth-sailing, and utterly successful.

Throngs of common folk—surely over a thousand by now—came and went. Fortunately, the Minister's household had made ample preparations to meet the demands of those who were groaning under the weight of their suffering.

Great, rustic cooking pots (nabe) lined the eaves, utterly wrecking the delicate charm of the noble residence's elegant gardens.

Savory rice porridge (zosui²)—mixed with white rice, root vegetables, leaf vegetables, minced ginger, and garlic, then mellowed with egg—was generously ladled into bowls. Likewise, hearty bowls of soup laden with ingredients were provided, and sweets were given to the smallest children as a small comfort.

Regular court physicians, apothecaries, and spell-casters examined the sick and the cursed, offering prayers and prescribing medicines.

They gathered people to lecture them on how to treat wounds and how to face illness. Those requiring surgery were carried to a separate room, lodged there, and slated for procedures on a later day.

They had even arranged a place for the people to take a bath behind the main building.

New kimonos were provided to replace their rags, talismans were given out, and dried goods and travel rations were distributed for them to take home. As they departed, looking reborn in their newly clean attire, the men and women repeatedly wept tears and bowed in gratitude for the Minister's benevolence.

Yet, a separate line of direct appeals and petitions had formed before the main hall of the noble residence.

The pathetic and wretched folk lowered their heads in awe of the noble presence that appeared before them. They prostrated themselves deeply before the Princess reigning behind the bamboo curtain (misu¹) on the main hall's upper tier."O-oh, Your Highness, we humbly beg of you... Please, we implore you, listen to our plea..."

The elderly man's voice trembled with such pitiful fear, realizing the colossal gap in their stations simply from the faint silhouette visible through the bamboo curtain. He felt the sheer pressure, the enormous magnitude of her presence.

It was, by design, intended to be this way.

Every detail—the arrangement of people and objects on the upper tier of the noble residence—had been calculated to project authority and inspire dread. It was the subtle wisdom passed down through the ruling class to overwhelm the common folk.

"...Raise your heads."

The command sounded like a divine decree. It was a beautiful address, like the clear chime of a bell echoing in the air.

Everyone respectfully obeyed. Observing this, the Princess let out a faint, strained smile and addressed them again in a tone softer than before.

"There is no need to be timid. This event was set up specifically to hear your petitions. Unless you commit a gross offense, you will not be punished. Be at ease in your hearts."

And then, the bamboo curtain was raised.

The Princess's hidden figure was revealed. A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd, struck by this possibly once-in-a-lifetime sight and the Princess's unveiled form.

...Not a speck of grime clung to her. Her white skin had clearly never known the harsh sun or freezing winds.

It looked supple and soft. Her hair was meticulously styled, shining with a healthy luster; lice, fleas, or even dandruff were unthinkable.

The silk kimono, though plain by Hyakuyain standards, was not to be compared to their ragged hemp. A pleasant, flower-like fragrance emanated from her person. ⱤᴀƝỖꞖÊṥ

Every person there was forced to acknowledge they lived in a different world than her. She seemed like a Heavenly Maiden (Tennyo) of the Pure Land.

...Such was the effect of her constant, diligent attention to her appearance, cosmetics, and adornments. The effect was tremendous.

Her gaze, sharp and carefully cultivated, pierced the commoners. She seized the initiative once more.

"Now, speak to me freely. That is the duty of the Hyakuyain and the Imperial Court."

"Yes, yes, Your Highness...!!"

When she spoke this feigned declaration of benevolence, the people instinctively lowered their heads again, awestruck. Then, one by one, the men and women began to voice their innermost pleas, detailing how they had fallen into such a state—due to demons, natural disasters, epidemics, bandits, curses, and countless injustices.

"The officials are slow to act, Your Highness. No matter how much we appeal, the situation never changes."

"Why does the Imperial Court not deal with this? The Capital has so many warriors and so much rice!"

"Is it true, the rumor that the Minister of the Right opposes the demon exterminations? If so, that is too heartless!"

They started fearfully, but it was inevitable that their complaints turned into resentments and grievances.

The Princess harbored a measure of dissatisfaction internally, but she did not let it show. It was the Hyakuyain way to treat the people with benevolence, faith, and virtue.

Another reason was her own uneasiness, as she couldn't deny their words...

"...I fully understand your anxieties. We shall address the relevant issues."

She proceeded to give instructions to her retainers, one by one, in front of the petitioners. The sight of her commanding immediate action, rather than offering mere verbal pity, was genuinely reassuring.

However, anyone with an ounce of learning would surmise the truth: these instructions were superficial, stopgap measures, and only extended as far as the Hyakuyain's own authority reached. They were not solutions backed by the full power and responsibility of the nation of Fusou.

Matsumi-hime was only a Princess.

She held no real office or rank in the Imperial Court. She was merely an accessory to the prestigious Hyakuyain family and her grandfather, the Minister of the Left.

Hence, her limitations.

Yet, to do nothing would truly damage the prestige of both the Hyakuyain and the Imperial Court. Thus, this response—it was a preordained, obvious script.

Nevertheless, this was the Hyakuyain's role, the duty of the Minister of the Left's position. The common folk were fickle, impatient, short-sighted, and irresponsible.

In this world overrun by wicked spirits and demons (Mōryō), politics constantly demanded cold, ruthless choices. Yet, that didn't mean those being abandoned would accept it.

People only shed tears of joy when they weren't the ones being cast aside... Critics always spoke this way about the Imperial Court's policies.

That is why the Hyakuyain, who held the position of the Minister of the Left, had to appease the populace. They had to demonstrate righteousness, faith, and virtue. It was the Hyakuyain's role since the founding of the nation to sustain the people's faith in the Imperial Court—and their power served this purpose.

"...This has been a productive conversation. I thank you. Do not worry. The Emperor and the Imperial Court always watch over the common folk. Trust that even where our eyes cannot reach, we believe in you."

It was time to conclude.

Overwhelmed by her solemn words of farewell, the petitioners prostrated themselves in grateful reverence. Watching the men and women withdraw, satisfied and reassured, the Princess let out a faint sigh of relief, unnoticed by the crowd.

Being among these dirty, miserable, pathetic folk was tiring—it took a toll on her nerves, her fear, and her energy.

The look of utter reliance they directed at her felt heavy, a crushing burden. She wasn't without guilt for forgetting the details of their pleas and offering only temporary, stopgap measures.

"Your Highness..."

"My beautiful Princess. This is my first time meeting you. My name is Jokai, a humble priest."

A voice called out from the side. As she began to turn, the declaration was issued directly from the front, cutting her off.

Unconsciously, the Hyakuyain Princess turned to face him. And then, she met his gaze: murky and dark, like a frog sinking into a swamp.

It was a clear sneak attack.

It was plainly aimed at the Princess's mental lapse, as she was exhausted from the petitions. Furthermore, it was timed precisely for when her surrounding counsel had stepped away.

The Princess noticed the presence and turned to face him. Unconcealed turmoil was visible in her expression.

The thin, pale, but dirty speaker, understanding all of this, curved his mouth into a triumphant smile in the shadows. He saw the Princess's limit.

"I constantly perform religious services for the common folk in the Outer Area. ...Princess of Hyakuyain, I thank you most deeply for the benevolence-filled charity you have bestowed upon the people this day. The Buddhas will surely never forget your virtue."

The monk bowed deeply and reverently praised the Princess on the upper tier.

He was a pale-skinned priest. The tattered monk's robes were ill-suited to his delicate, beautiful features.

His sharp gaze, however, felt sticky, like mud.

His speech seemed arrogant and shallow, yet since he was a priest preaching peace of mind to the people of the Outer Area, Matsumi-hime had no choice but to respond with courtesy. She couldn't afford to have bad rumors spread.

"If you assess it so, then setting up this venue was worthwhile. Hyakuyain is the house of benevolence. That benevolence is constantly poured upon all common folk. If we have been able to make this known to the world again, then our family's head will surely be satisfied."

Maintaining a calm demeanor and a dignified attitude, the still-youthful Princess suppressed her agitation and nervousness as she spoke. It was the result of her self-awareness as a representative of the prestigious Hyakuyain family of Fusou.

"The Head... you mean your grandfather, Princess? Then, where is Lord Tsugumichi, the Minister of the Left?"

"...What is your reason for asking?"

Sensing a slight impertinence in the monk's request, the Princess challenged him. Bowing deeply once more, the ragged priest explained.

"Though it is presumptuous, I hear the Minister of the Left is a devout man. Therefore..."

"Meaning... you seek a donation or a contribution?" the Princess interrupted, simultaneously fixing a suspicious stare on the shabbily dressed monk before her.

Well, it was within her expectations.

Monks and priests seeking patronage from the Hyakuyain, one of the five most powerful families in Fusou, were everywhere. This one likely didn't belong to a major temple.

He might be a wandering priest... no, perhaps one of the unauthorized, private clerics.

Something about him felt utterly fake. Was he perhaps one of those unsavory, worldly priests?

"It is not our family's nature to refuse to assist a virtuous priest who works for the common folk. However, things must follow a proper order."

She had no advisors nearby.

It wouldn't do to consult with the maids or the ordinary guards; such a lack of fortitude was unthinkable. Therefore, she decided to judge the situation herself and dismiss the man.

"State your master and the temple where you trained. Through them, I shall address Lord Jokai about the donation..."

"No, Princess. That is not the case."

The priest, anticipating her move to use the temple affiliation as a shield (knowing he likely had none), cut off her explanation. As the Princess tilted her head in suspicion at his rude interruption, the monk, unconcerned, pressed on.

"It is not like that, Princess. It is not for such small matters... I speak to you now for the sake of this benevolent house, for the sake of the Princess, and ultimately, for the Imperial Court."

His words were deferential and, precisely for that reason, insulting.

His self-aggrandizing, pompous manner irritated Matsumi-hime. She finally bristled at the monk's attitude.

"Are you... suggesting you wish to join our service?"

"From your appearance, Princess, you seem quite fatigued. I perceive that you are tormented by deep worries."

"...!!!"

She gasped, momentarily speechless and shaken by his comment, which half-ignored her question and seemed to see right through her.

Anxiety flared: had she failed to maintain her composure? The monk pressed further, exploiting the opening.

"Oh, I see. ...The name of the benevolent house, the Hyakuyain, must indeed be a heavy burden? It must be an extremely difficult task to bear that great responsibility and behave in a manner that brings no shame to the family name! I understand!"

That was certainly one corner of the Princess's heart. The shallow priest's words seemed to sympathize with it.

Yet...

couldn't anyone guess this much with a little imagination? What was there to fear?

"Fumu fumu, you also have troubles regarding your fiancé? How to act, how to respond, struggling with the pressure of being a daughter of the house of benevolence... Is that not so?"

"That... is...!!!?"

This time, the Princess was truly astonished. It was a direct hit.

For the Hyakuyain Princess, who was always expected to embody benevolence, virtue, and faith, her relationship with the noble gentleman had indeed been a source of genuine distress.

But... how could he know?!

...If she thought about it, this, too, wasn't a difficult thing to surmise.

A sharp-witted person could sniff it out by observing the Princess's demeanor and collecting the gossip and worries of women on a daily basis. The fact that this possibility never occurred to her was proof of how deeply she was troubled, shattering her composure and removing her ability to be cautious.

It was the weakness of the well-sheltered noblewoman.

Matsumi-hime was not a woman of strong character. Because everyone treated her with such deference, her resistance to this kind of aggressive confrontation was low.

"Since my youth, I have been blessed with rare spiritual power and have trained it to guide the common folk."

The monk slowly approached, his speech becoming more and more impertinent.

"S-Stop..."

"I have listened to the worries of many common folk, liberated them, and freed them not only from physical ailments but from the sickness of the heart!" the monk continued, speaking over her attempts to stop him. His walk turned into a quick trot. He stomped on the gravel, closing the distance rapidly...

"E-Excuse me...!?"

Her composure had vanished, exposing her pretense of self-assurance. Matsumi-hime recoiled, leaning backward.

The monk saw his opportunity, rushing up to the upper tier. Push her, and she will break. He had seen through her fragile spirit.

"You are before the Princess. Kindly step back."

Just as the monk was about to step onto the first riser of the main hall's steps, a shadow blocked his path.

"Begone, woman! The humble priest has business with the Princess. I will not allow one of such low birth to obstruct me!" The monk reflexively hurled the insult, only to widen his eyes a moment later as he finally looked at the figure.

She was a very tall woman.

Even standing on the lower level, one had to tilt their head back to look at her. A giant, one might say.

She was well-muscled and perfectly proportioned, truly a long-limbed figure.

The massive conical kasa hat she wore made her appear even larger. From the shadow beneath the kasa hat, a pair of downward-sloping, half-closed eyes looked down at the monk through a gap in her roughly grown hair.

"You need not allow it. ...Our duty is to guarantee the safety of the Hyakuyain and the Princess. Respectable monk, please be so kind as to withdraw now?"

Though her words were polite, Jokai instantly recognized that they were merely formal courtesies and contained no genuine respect for him.

She was looking down on him. Burning with indignation at the dishonor, he looked past the woman.

He noticed a beautiful swordswoman (Tamaki) was now crouching behind the Princess, supporting and caring for her.

She was speaking gentle words to the agitated Princess. His perfect opportunity was slipping away.

"Guh...!"

"Please, withdraw now."

The tone was more commanding than before.

The tall woman's request was delivered with the same unchanging expression. ...No, it was a warning, a check on his movement.

"...!!!?"

The rogue monk froze. He couldn't move.

He felt it—a pressure. Multiple presences lurked behind the woman. The scent of beasts.

The panting of beasts. The growl of beasts.

The lethal range of their strange powers. The surrounding noise of the crowd seemed to recede into the distance. Such was the intensity of the tension...!!

"..."

The monk exchanged a look with the tall woman. Their eyes spoke volumes.

Trembling, he backed away a step, then a second.

In concert with his retreat, the bloodlust behind him also receded. By the third step, the oppressive presence had vanished—at least, ostensibly.

"...I apologize for my rudeness. When I see lost souls, it is an occupational sickness of a priest that compels me to desperately seek to save them. I am still immature, a source of great embarrassment."

It was a clumsy attempt to save face.

The surrounding clamor returned. Most people seemed oblivious to the confrontation, entirely focused on the food, the clothes, and the medicine being provided.

"..."

"Your Highness."

"Cough! Retreat at once!" commanded the Princess, prompted by her swordswoman escort. Reluctantly, the monk bowed and retreated. Matsumi-hime watched him go, fearing internally that he might suddenly turn back from the shadows.

"...Princess. You must be tired. Would you care for some tea?"

"Eh? Ah, ...yes. I will."

Fortunately, the tension that had gripped her broke as the monk vanished entirely from sight, and her guard called out from beside her. The suggestion made her realize the drought within.

Even in the Inner Capital, which was maintained at a pleasant temperature by a Barrier Curse, the summer (Natsu) still felt warm, and that was part of its charm.

Now that she thought about it, her mouth and throat were terribly dry. She needed moisture to soothe her nerves.

"Then, here you are."

It must have been prepared by a maid beforehand. The lukewarm tea.

The guard poured a small amount into a saucer and drank it herself.

A poison test. The way she sampled the taste seemed subtly alluring, likely due to her handsome, almost boyish features.

"...There is no issue. Please."

"Thank you."

The Princess took a fresh cup and gulped it down. The tea's bitterness and flavor were a comfort, settling her mind.

"Haa... Thank you for your help." The Princess offered her thanks, looking at the beautiful swordswoman.

Though she looked like a handsome boy, closer inspection revealed the guard was a young woman just like herself. The swordswoman, whom her respected grandfather had summoned...

(At first, I was a little disappointed...) the Princess mused, sipping her tea.

When she first heard her grandfather had pulled this female swordswoman from the Onitsuki family, she had hoped for the First Princess of that house.

She had seen her dance at a court ritual, a dignified and lovely black-haired beauty whose performance had captivated the hearts of all who attended—not just men, but women, too. No, the Second Princess was rumored to be overly feminine, closer to a Tachibana-style noblewoman, so she wasn't as popular among the Princesses, which perhaps intensified the First Princess's allure.

Although she was rumored to have common blood, the sight of the Onitsuki First Princess, Hina-hime, was truly wonderful to the other Princesses.

It was even rumored that some of them wished to take her into their service if she would only give up her position as family head. Matsumi-hime, too, had hoped for her, and thus was disappointed in her absence.

But now...

"You served well as a guard. ...And you as well. You are from the Inugoku Clan, are you not? Of course, your reward will be prepared."

She praised the older swordswoman from her superior position, then addressed the tall colleague who was staring intently. The woman in the kasa hat merely replied with a terse "Mm." The Princess did not rebuke her somber expression.

Her grandfather never prioritized etiquette over competence—he saw it as a sign of great character.

She chose to follow his example. But more importantly, there was this other swordswoman.

"Hotoya's... Lady Tamaki, is it? Is there anything you want? As a token of friendship, what can I offer you?"

"From... the Princess?" The swordswoman looked confused.

"Are you displeased that it's from me and not the Hyakuyain family?" The Princess anticipated the meaning of her puzzled expression and pointed it out. The guard's silent reaction confirmed it.

"Are you unhappy if I say this much was merely part of your duty as a guard, and not deserving of a reward?"

"Yet you offer a gift?"

"It is a matter of saving face. ...I don't want it made public that I was intimidated by such a petty rogue. However, failing to express my gratitude would violate the Hyakuyain family precepts."

"So, it is strictly the Princess's private gift..."

That she needed such an explanation was proof of the swordswoman's lack of awareness regarding courtly honor. Tamaki's continued confusion, even after the explanation, struck the Princess as peculiar.

"Such a peaceful simpleton... Is Hotoya Village truly that tranquil? Family strife is common in the world, yet is your clan also harmonious?"

"I... I think so. The sense of things outside the village is so different... I'm always confused by the differences." The Hotoya swordswoman, Hotoya Tamaki, murmured this as if truly distressed. Her unpolished, awkward manner made it clear she wasn't lying.

When she was first brought into the People's Exorcism Guard, using a monster's corpse as a weapon, she had seemed like a terrifying combat fanatic. But this short time as her guard had revealed such genuine innocence that the Princess's impression of her had completely changed.

The Hyakuyain Princess found it rather endearing. She felt she could be much more relaxed around someone like this.

"Is that so. It is a good thing that your family is close and your relationship with the common folk is harmonious. The Hotoya Clan could be called a model for Fusou's gentry."

"I am honored..." Tamaki genuinely felt humbled. At the same time, the Princess's praise filled her with pride. It was an honor to have her family lauded. ...Yes, even her family, which was not of her own blood.

"Speaking of family... Princess, you seem to respect the Minister of the Left deeply. He is your grandfather, is he not?"

"Yes. My parents passed away when I was young... and my grandmother also died early. The closest blood relative I have is my grandfather. He was a good, kind grandfather. He is the person I most revere." The Princess spoke reflectively, her smile entirely genuine, not a political facade. He had protected and loved the child exposed to countless malicious eyes because of her status, raising her to be a fine Princess. She owed him a debt of gratitude. Matsumi-hime held genuine affection and deep faith for her grandfather.

"Indeed... I think he is fair, trustworthy, and very wise. I am also greatly indebted to him. He is both strict and flexible, truly the necessary figure for the Fusou of today." Tamaki glanced at the noble residence's garden. She saw the commoners who had received food, medical care, baths, and new clothes, their spirits renewed as if reborn. This was the ideal scene Tamaki had hoped for and had seen vanish many times into mere illusion. It was a heartwarming, gentle sight...

"...Let us return to the gift. Think about it some more? I genuinely like you, not just for the political necessity of this occasion. It is rare for someone to praise my grandfather so purely."

"Y-Yes... Certainly."

At the Princess's renewed request, Tamaki hastily pulled herself together and agreed. The truth was, she couldn't think of a single thing she wanted to ask for.

...No. She did have a wish.

There was something she desired. However, it would be inappropriate to ask this Princess for it.

It would be especially ill-suited for a gift from a friend. That left Tamaki with very few requests she could make. She lamented her lack of imagination.

(Still, saying I don't want anything would be rude, wouldn't it?) Tamaki worried, trying to be discreet while maintaining her guard duty. She didn't notice that her other guard colleague was giving her a stern, half-lidded glare—a look that said, Do your job properly.

(That's right. If I'm going to ask for something...) After much thought, Tamaki suddenly remembered something. A smile bloomed on her face. She thought it was a wonderful wish. It was a wish not entirely for herself, yet it was also for herself. It was a wish truly, truly characteristic of Hotoya Tamaki.

(...But now is the time for my duty as a guard.)

Nevertheless, she reminded herself of her present task, belatedly stiffening her posture. She understood the time and the place.

It wasn't something she needed to rush.

She couldn't shame the Hyakuyain family who had taken her in. Above all, shouldn't the charity for the common folk be the priority now?

...This was a judgment befitting Hotoya Tamaki, a girl who could not discard her fundamental goodness.

It was a high virtue that deserved praise. Yet, this high virtue did not guarantee a good outcome.

This was true no matter what path she took. Trying to make the request now wouldn't have changed the ultimate result.

Everything was orchestrated, a preordained harmony. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would change.

Still, she would come to deeply regret this choice. She would be tormented by her own irreparable mistake.

* * *

The guards at the great North Gate of the Capital, where people were constantly coming and going, were baffled and flinched at the sight of the unhinged man.

They were already greatly annoyed that so many undesirables—thanks to the Minister of the Left's scheme—were flooding in and out of the Capital, but this man's strangeness was exceptional.

"Damn... How dare they play with me... I... those fools... obstacles... The Buddha's enemies..."

The meager monk muttered and muttered, despised from afar by the guards and officials as he exited the great gate. He was clearly deranged.

His perpetual muttering to the empty air, combined with his wide, fixed gaze, was utterly abnormal. His strangely perfect, pale features only highlighted this oddity, creating a visual discord that unsettled onlookers.

This man, who called himself Jokai, was a priest in name only. He was the person furthest removed from the Buddha's teachings.

...In a way, it was a common story. A boy with spiritual power born in the remote countryside was shunned and handed over to a temple as a burden.

It was not unheard of for a beautiful boy with nowhere to go to become a chigo (temple page³) providing indecent services. However, this boy's spirit was remarkably tenacious.

When he witnessed the monks drinking sacred wine (Shinzake) while calling it fine sake, eating rare delicacies while calling it the three purities of almsgiving, having sex with women in closed rooms under the pretense of exorcising evil spirits, and granting the 'sacrament of high virtue' to beautiful boys—the feeling that sprouted in the young boy's heart was not disgust, but aspiration.

Aspiration for power and wealth. The way they justified their hedonism with sophistry.

The legitimization of their tyranny. That was true power. He longed to rise up and become like them.

This desire remained even when the corpulent head priest pinned him down after he had just finished his rice gruel. On the contrary, he resolved to refine himself and gain even more favor. At times, he even serviced the old women who came for prayers.

He even serviced two or three people simultaneously. Regardless of age or gender, he fawned over them in the bedroom, securing promises for his status from several patrons. His position was supposed to be unshakable.

...Time, however, is a cruel master.

As he grew, his delicate, elf-like face hardened and became more angular. His body transformed into a man's.

His voice deepened.

Inevitable changes. More importantly, the arrival of a new chigo (temple page) completely ruined his life's plan.

The newcomer was a beautiful boy.

The most beautiful boy. A truly exquisite child.

Even his vacant eyes, which suggested he had given up on everything, were mesmerizing. His slender body was adorned with thin robes and gold ornaments, and every drop of sweat scattering from his seductive dances was considered the finest nectar.

With a single performance, the new chigo instantly charmed the high-ranking monks. Their affection turned to the newcomer all at once, like a swarm of ants to sugar.

The swift reversal from the high-ranking monks, who had once been his intimate partners, was staggering.

Those who had promised him participation in the ordination ceremony broke their word. His master's backing, the succession to the temple, the right to inherit the manor—all promises were broken.

They were all given to the chigo who was two decades his junior. Everyone was obsessed with the boy.

They swarmed him, whispering promises of reward and certain glory into his ear. They competed with each other to make the boy look their way, to see his smile.

He couldn't accept it. What was all his effort for?

When he complained, he was severely disciplined.

The head priest who had once been his lover struck him, then hugged the chigo to his back and licked his cheek, promising him—in a chillingly gentle voice—the exact promises he had once made to Jokai, and more. What made it worse was that the chigo didn't look happy at all.

Because he was resented, because he was a nuisance, and most of all, because they feared for the safety of the boy they adored, the former chigo, now a young priest, was cast out. Under the guise of an exchange with another sect, he was banished to a remote, ancient temple.

That sect, however, was nothing like the one he knew—it was poor, stuffy, violent, and utterly backward, practicing rigorous, old-fashioned asceticism that involved confronting Youkai. His escape from the posting took merely ten days.

Rumors reached him that a stabbing incident had occurred at his former temple.

He heard the chigo who caused it was expelled, and the high-ranking monks were also banished. It no longer mattered.

A legitimate ascent as a monk was now impossible.

Yet, he couldn't accept becoming a wandering priest or returning to secular life. I am not a man who ends his life in a place like this...!

He still had his means.

The beauty, rhetoric, mannerisms, and cunning he had honed during his time as a chigo were still effective against the uneducated rabble. With words, teachings, knowledge, and pleasure, he would incite and lead the foolish commoners.

It wasn't just knowledge. He also indulged in violence.

As one who possessed spiritual power from birth, he was confident in his strength against the average person.

He had also made sure to pilfer a curse-tool as a parting gift from the ancient temple he fled. It had granted him power.

And most importantly...

"Got dumped, did ya? Did the upstart attempt fail? That's too bad, eh?"

"TOO BAD! TOO BAD!"

When he reached a narrow alleyway in the dirty Outer Area of the Capital, he heard two voices.

The fake monk turned around irritably. Emerging from the shadows of the tenement building was a flippant young man and, perched on his shoulder, a strange bird with inorganic, gimlet eyes glaring at him—the accomplice of his patron.

Jokai sensed no other presences nearby.

He knew a People-Dispelling Barrier Curse (Barrier Curse) had been cast. That's why he had come to this alley.

First, he had to tell these two what needed to be said.

"...There is no need to report anything to the Master. That mere little girl—there are many ways to topple her. It is still too early to give up!"

It was a fellow operator he had encountered during his time preying on and moving on from various settlements as a wandering priest—his mentor. Admiring the mentor's superior cunning, he had become his apprentice, stealing his techniques and receiving many scraps of profit.

The Master's scheme, ambition, and desires were the reason this former chigo had come all the way to the Capital, gathered the poor of the Outer Area, led them, and approached the Princess. He had unfortunately failed to ensnare her body and mind for his own gain.

"Don't worry about it. The Master already knows. And there ain't no scolding, either."

"As expected of the Master, he is well-informed. Then, the reason you are here is... that?" For Jokai, the man before him was a mere errand boy. If the Master, who knew of his failure, had sent him, the meaning was singular.

"The plan moves to the next stage. You gotta prepare for the Ritual. I'm here to help with that... as your bodyguard, I guess. I hate rough work."

"I HATE IT! I HATE IT! DON'T WANNA WORK!" The errand boy shrugged, deeply annoyed, and the strange bird on his shoulder mimicked human speech, though whether it understood the meaning was questionable. The fallen monk scorned it as a noisy, stupid bird.

"It suits you well, as you are a man without learning or skill outside of brute force. Be content with our scraps. When the Master and I succeed, we shall toss you a little flavor."

"Like a piece of old leaf vegetable?"

"The flavor of the nation, I mean. Even scraps will be enough for a common man. Without a suitable vessel, one destroys oneself; know your place."

The fallen monk, the former chigo, sneered with high arrogance and conceit. He seemed to have not the slightest doubt in his talent or his worth.

He is ambitious, vain, narcissistic, and has a bit of talent—but that is all... Kamui, the former Ezo region youkai, internally marvelled at how conveniently his Master had found and cultivated such a specimen. How did he always manage to find and cultivate people with the necessary components for his plans and establish a connection beforehand?

(Well, I guess to the Master, I'm probably no better than this guy?) Kamui thought, figuring he was probably next in line to be called an idiot, but he kept it off his face and moved the conversation forward.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll keep my expectations modest. ...Here. Take this." He tossed the small object he had been instructed by the Master to deliver. The fallen monk cursed under his breath, quickly catching the small object mid-air and inspecting it closely.

"This is from the Master... Oh, is this...!" The pale man's expression shifted instantly to utter astonishment. At first glance, it was merely a small, palm-sized register of names, a tenkibô. But it was no mere ritual tool.

The object in his hand was a dreaded curse-tool that had been sealed in a certain temple. He had heard the rumors, but he never imagined it truly existed—or rather, that it had been lost.

"The contents are already filled in, so you can use it right away, he said. Though there aren't many pages left." Kamui was right; the remaining entries were barely enough to count on both hands. Combined with the curse-tool Jokai had stolen, they would run out quickly. It didn't matter; it was enough for the scheme. Still...

"Hehehehe. To be given such a valuable curse-tool... This means the Master values me that highly. ...Very well, then I shall perform a deed worthy of it!"

At least the Master was infinitely better than the priests who had used him and then discarded him. That Master at least provided a return for his help and equipped him with the necessary tools.

Jokai didn't trust him, but his past actions earned him credit.

He figured the Master wouldn't prepare so thoroughly only to abandon the plan and flee... Jokai made his judgment.

...He could never have imagined that the hand he was shown by the ghost posing as his Master was merely a handful of throwaway cards.

Even with his observational skills, he couldn't see through the elaborate acting and staging. The difference in their experience was simply too vast.

"Kukuku... My heart is already dancing! I can already imagine their desperate faces!!" He laughed scornfully, picturing the Princess, or the guards who had viewed him with hostility and contempt, or even the noblemen who had sneered at him as he passed through the North Gate with the poor folk. He would enjoy it. He truly would. The day when they would all bow their heads to him, praise him, and fawn over him was not far off... The man believed this completely.

"I... I will win!" Yes. He would climb to the highest peak, using everyone as his stepping stones. He would conquer the people who had tried to destroy him, the ones who had mocked him, the other chigo who had scorned him, the hypocritical priests, and even that little brat who had been so joylessly adored! He would look down on them all!

"Ha! Hahaha!! Hahahahaha!!"

"...The People-Dispelling Barrier Curse will break soon, you know?"

"BREAK! BREAK! IT'LL BREAK SOON!!"

The former Ezo region youkai vanished into the shadows, tossing those words to the man who was laughing maniacally. The squawking parrot on the errand boy's shoulder repeated his words, but the man, lost in his private, insane laughter, failed to notice the clear mockery contained within the bird's voice.

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Summary:

The Hyakuyain family's charity event concludes, revealing itself to be a calculated political maneuver designed to maintain the court's image of 'Ren' (benevolence).

Princess Matsumi, sheltered and burdened by her noble duty, manages to maintain her composure during the petitions but is visibly exhausted. This vulnerability is immediately exploited by Jokai, a former chigo monk and agent of a shadowy Master, who attempts to manipulate her by exposing her deepest personal and political anxieties.

The confrontation is sharply halted by her guards, the earnest Hotoya Tamaki and the intimidating Inugoku samurai.

Thwarted but undeterred, Jokai retreats to the capital's fringes and meets his accomplice, Kamui, to receive a powerful, stolen curse-tool. The chapter ends as Jokai gleefully prepares for a massive ritual, fueled by his vengeance against the system that betrayed him.

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Character Insight:

Princess Matsumi's greatest weakness is her sincerity; her emotional honesty and sheltered life make her an easy target for cynical manipulators like Jokai, who weaponizes her political anxieties. Hotoya Tamaki's pure heart and moral compass are what hold her back, as her high-minded sense of duty prevents her from asking for what she truly wants, leading to a crucial, regretted delay. Jokai is driven by a profound, narcissistic rage, seeing his new Master and the ancient curse-tool as the perfect means to avenge his past humiliation and rise to the power he believes he deserves.

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Behind the Scene:

This chapter is the necessary calm before a major storm. The Hyakuyain's reliance on superficial benevolence (the charity) and the Princess's lack of real power establish the perfect weakness for the antagonist to strike at the political core of the Capital. The antagonist's backstory as a chigo in a corrupt temple explains his profound cynicism and absolute dedication to power through manipulation, setting up a deeply personal conflict between him and the naive, sincere protagonists.

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T/L:

¹ Misu: A bamboo or reed screen used in traditional Japanese architecture, especially in the Imperial Court, to separate and conceal people of high status. ↩

² Zosui: A Japanese dish, a savory rice porridge typically made with cooked rice, water or dashi, and various ingredients like vegetables, meat, or egg. It's often served to the sick or to warm people in the cold. ↩

³ Chigo: A temple page or acolyte, often a young, beautiful boy who sometimes served noblemen or high-ranking priests in a non-religious capacity in pre-modern Japan. ↩

Notes:

• Matsumi - The sheltered granddaughter of the Minister of the Left, raised in courtly elegance after being orphaned young. Dutiful and kind yet easily flustered, she struggles to uphold her family’s ideal of benevolence while quietly burdened by politics and an arranged betrothal. Pale-skinned and meticulously groomed, dressed in understated silk and carrying a soft floral scent, she embodies delicate grace shaped by a life kept far from hardship.

• Jokai - A thin, pale former chigo (temple page) cast out for lacking beauty, he now roams as a ragged, self-styled monk who manipulates the desperate with sharp intellect and murky-eyed charm. Bitter and power-hungry, he serves a shadowy Master, using his spiritual talent. Wears ragged monk's robe.

• Rei - Female. A character who is part of the group with Hana and Shino. Her appearance and personality are not extensively described, but she is involved in the 'medical treatment' scene, showing irritation and engaging in tense conversations.

• Tamaki - Formerly the male protagonist and now transformed into a woman.

• Natsu - Southern maid who wears minimal clothing like underwear or swimsuits. Her attire reflects the norms of her homeland.